Blackfoot news. (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1891-1902, 1894-07-21

dress to trim and rcvamp in the fash
ion of the day. 1t was dress which
had cost something in the first place,
and, of course one wanted TO make il
do for little dances, etc, the follow
ing winter
One evening while little Gabe was
playing with the inkstand, il Slipped
from his thin hands and the contents
poured themselves over the satin of
the dress.
They did not scold him. The con,
sternation on his face was hard
enough to see, as it was, The sister
smothered a scream, and began nerv-
ously, silently, to sponge the stuff,
and calculate the extent of the dam
age done. The ink had ruined eight
hreadths of the satin. Eight breadths
at fifteen francs a metre--that made II
total of 100 francs. This was much to
take from the little savings bank,
much to take from the money set
aside for little Gabes journey. 1t must
be given up for this year. That jour
ney to the seaside so long talked Of.
The seamstress kissed little Gabe. and
set to work again.
The following winter was a hard
one in the entre-sol The autumn had
been rainy and little Gabes health
had suffered. He had pains in his
bones, fever ana headaches, The doe
tor auseulating him, had shaken his
head and insisted again that the child
should be sent TO Berck as soon as the
warm weather came This time there
was to be no question about it. No
matter what it might cost, they would
20 to the seashore at the end Of MAY.
The sewing machine whirred more
swiftly than eyer. and the light down
there burned later into the night
They had bought little Crabc a picture
book with nothing but sea views in il:
sketches Of ports with forest OF
masts in line along the quais; rocky
cliffs with white waves breaking at
their feet; fishermen's barges scatter
ed over the sea like flight OF white
winged birds.
The child seemed now to talk
Of nothing but the sea.
He dreamed Of it at night, ana
sometimes during the day, he had
strange, sick Authorizations. in which
he saw, in the gray fog that filed the
court yard, the vision OF coast beaten
BY the tides, of ezpanses Of water on
which sailed ships with swelling sails.
The winter turned ont to be unusu-
ally cold and damp, and | now never
met little Gabe in the porte-cochere
The doctor had absolutely forbidden
his going out. From time to time | saw
him at his window, back of the raised
curtain. His sorrowful ewes, which
were sunllen in their sockets. looked
out wonderinglg, and his thin little
fingers seemed to be tracing vaguely
the outlines of ships against the pane.
Then suddenly his glance would fall
upon the easement at which / stood,
and feeling that I was watching him.
he would draw the muslin curtain
down with nervous shyness Toward
the middle of March | ceased seeing
him at the window His bones ached
more and more, his enfeebled limbs
seemed no longer able to carry him.
and the pains in his head were grow
ing worse. lie spent whole days
stretched out in his little bed, turning
over the leaves of that picture book.
where for the hundrcdth time. he
could see the sea and the great ships
with their white sails. He had not
given up the idea Of his journey.
When shall We Be going?~ he
would ask his sister And when the
young girl explained to him that thew
must wait for spring, he would Insist
in his shriIl little voice.
But | am in hurry; I want 10 get
well quickly, very quickly, 50 you may
not cry any more. "
And, in the meantime. he wanted
always to have near him the large
pink she'll whose pearly edges, when
he layed his ear against them. made /
him hear the far-away sound OF that
sea which was to cure him Of all Of his |
ills.
Toward Easter | no longer heard
the dull hum Of the sewing machine
in the entire sol. There was no more
work done down there, but the lamp
light that streamed from one window /
till late into the night showed that
watchers were sitting BY the sick
child's bedside.
'IIe is very low" murmured the
porter's wife, iustinctiycly drawing
fat little urchin Of her own closer to /
her skirts. 1t won't be very long /
now. Poor little fellow, it would be o
happy release"
One morning at the door / passed a
narrow box carried by two under
takers and followed BY the mourners.
1t was little Gabc, who had left at
last, for his journey toward the meas.
ureless sea Of the unknown.
The Bat.
There Is q very strong disiika ~