The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1895-02-21
Her Wedding Ring.


SAl5N widower He could not
have been widower very
long, for his little boy, Adrien, who
lived with him, and who was always
well cared for, was not more than &
years old Yet neither of them wore
mourning.
Every day Tony Robec, who was
employed as compositor in a printing
house in the QUARTER Latin, left his
room with the child, still half asleep,
ON his shoulder. He left the little one
ait school, and called for him again
at might, when returning from work.
The kind-hearted gossips were full
Of pity for the poor fellow. He
couldn't be more than 40, and was still
good-looking, although sad and pale,
and with silver streaks in his black
beard. Behind his back they said:
'"That man ought to marry again.
They wished to make his acquaint-
ance. Generally this is not difficult i'll
such house, where the tenants live
with open doors. But Tony had Il
very reserved manner, and they were
afraid to approach him.
mo, ladies' said the doorkeeper,
who was inclined to be sentimental,
'fthat widower will never marry again;
mark my words. The other Sunday
l passed him in the cemetery at Mont
Parnasse. His wife is doubtless buried
there. 1t cut me to the heart to see
the poor man with the motherlesS lit
tie chap at his side. He must have
dotted ON his wife,
But he was not a widOwer.
His life had been simple, but not
by any means happy. Although a
conscientious workman, he was not
particularly good at his trade, and
therefore until he was 80 he had not
succeeded in making a tolerably good
living, and could not think of marry
ing.
When he did resolve to marry, he
ought to have chosen a sensible, econ
smical wife, who had known want as
he had. But love does not occupy it
self with such trifles.
Tony lost his head over a pretty,
ight-minded, light-hearted flower girl
Of 10, honest, doubtless, but frivolous,
and thinking more of her toilet than
Of anything else under the sun.
They were married and ait first
lived very happily. They had two
modest rooms on the fifth floor of a
house in the boulevard de Port Royal,
with little balcony, from which they
had a bird's-eye view of Paris.
Every night on leaving work Tony
Robec disguised his workman'S clothes
under a smart overcoat and waited for
his wife, who presently appeared from
her little booth in the rue Saint
Honore and arm-in-arm they returned
TO their humble home.
At last a son was born, and put out
to- nurse. The parents went to see
him once a fortnight. But ait the end
Of year the child died of convul-
sions.
The parents were, however, soon af-
terward consoled by the birth of little
Adrien. Having had such a sad eX-
perience, Clementine resolved to bring
up the child herself, and gave up her
little shop in order to be able to at
send her baby.
She took in work, but did not make
more than half of what she had pre-
viously earned. Nevertheless, she
continued to dress well.
In vain did Tony work desperately;
the household became embarrassed
and STEPPED in debt.
One evening, when Tony entered the
house with the child whom he had
picked up ait the asylum as he had
passed, he found an envelope ON the
mantlepiece, from which, when he
opened it, fell Clementine's wedding
ring In the letter she bade goodbye
to her husband and child, and begged
their forgiveness.
Toward the end of September he re-
ceived letter from his Wife--four in
coherent and desperate pages-plenti-
fully washed with tears-in which she
announced that she had repented and
implored pardon. This was all very
painful for Tony, but he was very
proud, and the letter remained UNI
answered.
He heard no more from Clementine.
On Christmas eve he went as was
his custom, to the cemetery at Mont
parnasse, there to place on the grave
of his dead child a few frozen violets
and roses.
For the first time Tony went alone
with the child, and strange as it may
seem, on entering the cemetery he suf-
fered more poignantly than ever be-
fore from the absence of that wife
who had so cruelty deceived him.
On arriving at the grave, he started,
for ait the foot of it We're strewn sew
eral little playthings such as the poor
give W luelE d
jack-in-the-box, and a whistle. They
had evidently just been placed there,
for they were quite new.
'Oh, what pretty playthings!' cried
little Adrien eXcitedly. But his father,
having detected a scrap of paper
pinned to one of the toys, opened it
and read: ''For Adrien, from his
brother Felix, who is now with the
child Christi
Suddenly he found the boy pressing
against him, and murmuring, "Mam-
ma" There, only a few PAGES away,
under a clump of cypress trees, knelt
the mother.
She was clad in a wretched dress
and thin shawl. Her eyes We're
sunken, and her cheeks hollow and
pale. She was looking at her husband,
and her clasped hands were stretched
toward him in supplication.
Tony pushed the boy gently toward
her, saying, "Adrien, go kiss your
mother"
The poor creature strained the child
convulsively to her breast, and COW
cred him with kisses. Then rising and
turning toward her husband, but al
with the N, of c,1npliant che