St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1894-04-15
"How old are you, Palotte?o

"How old are you, Palotte?"
Thirty years old in the month of May
next, replied the latter, a little surprised.
'Thirty years? would have said hardly
twenty-five or three. You are still and you
must have been very pretty"
ooh, no, madame. I was only young, that
is all. But I was always pale. always sickly
looking. have had very little good health"
'sTruly, my poor Palotte?"
And the two women commenced to chat;
Madame Cadat curious and kindly, Palette
confused at a display of such unexpected In
terest.
"Come, Palette, confess. Madame desires to
know why you did not marry"
"Ah, Madame, my story is not a gay one.
AS far back as can remember can hear
mamma cough, cough, cough, and see her
sink exhausted into her arm chair, and re-
member her drawing me to her and gazing at
me SO sorrowfully with her great sad eyes.
Immediately after my birth consumption de-
-veloped itself. Mamma lived seven years,
battling against this disease. Papa was a
good workman, but he was not well either.
He only lived few months after mamma. 1t
seems that he contracted her disease taking
Soi VI hChst LhOu \ was pietCSQ III CdI0 VI
the sisters, who were very good to me, and
who taught me my trade. was often i'll at
the orphanage. The doctor sounded my
lungs, made a wry face and ordered me cod
liver oil. Then it was that gained nv name
of Palette. told myself, as soon as was
old enough to reflect upon my condition, that
had Inherited my parents malady, and that
would not live very long. Indeed, could
die without regret-I was SO alone in the
world. But six months after had entered
Madame Hamel's employ, the fashionable
lingerie of the Rue Royale, I met a relation, a
nephew of my father, who had just finished
serving his time in the army. Victor was
steady man, earned good wages as cabinet
maker, found me to his taste and proposed
that we should marry. Oh, how loved him
But how could I? 1 was feeble and weak; I
would cause him endless sorrow on account
OF my health, perhaps communicate the dis
ease to him bring children into the world
who would be sickly like myself, and in the
would early be left orphans. He begged me
earnestly to become his wife, but 1 always
made the same answer: No, Victor that would
not be sensible Then, from spite perhaps,
he turned his attentions to RoSalie, a COM
panion, who always accompanied me for ap-
pearance sake, when Victor would see me
home from the shop. And hardly had seen
that he was commencing to love her when I
understood that loved Victor more than I
had believed. All the same I kept up my
courage and said to myself, st is best thus
I must confess helped on the marriage.
was wrong to do that Rosalie was a bad
woman. At the end of four years she ran
away from Victor, leaving him with two little
boys. 1t was terrible blow to him. At first
the unhappy man took to drinking but
shamed him out of it and he finally became
reconciled. Then went to lodge in the
same house with him and I helped him to
bring up the little ones. They are now nine
and ten years of age, and all ask is, that I
may be spared until they are old enough to
be apprenticed to some good trade. You see,
Madame, that was right when I said my
story was not a gay one. However, one must
never complain. I have this poor mans
friendship; he respects me as he would the
Holy Virgin; the boys are grand little fell
lows; they do not resemble their mother at
all. and if you could only see them throwing
their arms around Aunt Palotte's neck as
soon as get homel Everything is going
smoothly just now. I have more work than
l can do, and passed last winter without an
attack OF bronchitis and when l see so many
poor people around me feel that in truth,
I have no right to say that am unhappy"
Not unhappy Not unhappy! Did you
hear Alright? Did you understand, my pretty
little lady? Palette is not unhappy! And
her whole life. has been one of self-abnega-
ton, duty, work, illness, suffering and devo-
ton! If Palette does not complain, who,
then, are the unfortunate ones?
Did Madam Cladat ask herself that ques-
ton? At any rate, when Palette had finished
her simple story the pretty woman had
drawn near to the seamstress, gazed at her
with tear bedimmed eyes, and said to her in
voice trembling with pity and kindness:
81 wish to do something for your adopted
children. We will go to-day and meet them
as they come out of school, shall we not Pa
lotte? And we will take them to the confec-
toner's
- But look at the clock! Almost half-past
two, and there in the Louvre, for the last
twenty-five minutes, the poet has been chang
ing from one foot to the other, standing i'm
patiently before his antique and impatiently
consulting his watch every moment. Go
back to your home. young Isidore. Without
knowing it, Palette has called up before
Madame Cladat and has opened her eyes to a
little unhappiness, a little real misery, which
is for her good.
And Monsieur Cladat had happy escape
on that memorable day. His honor was
saved for that once at least.
FRANCOIS CoPPEE.