The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1895-05-23
WORTH1NGTON ADVAC..

41ed MIN to the circus, could nave
shown him the clown dancing under
the lighted chandelier, and have said
to him: "Look!'' He did better, jacques,
hewent to the circus, demanded the
address of the, clown, and, timidly,
his legs shaking with fear, he climbed
one by one, the steps which led to the
apartment of the artist, at Montmartre.
twas very bold, this that Jacques was
going to do. But, after all, the com.
edians go to sing and recite their mono.
logues in drawing-rooms at the houses
OF the great lords Perhaps the clown
oh, if he only would!-would con-
sent to come and say good-by to Fran
co.'s. How would they receive him,
Jacques Legrand, here at Boum-B oum's
house? .~-t'
He was no longer Boum-Boum! He
was Monsieur Moreno, and, in the artis.
tic dwelling, the books, the engravings,
the elegance. were like choice decora.
tions around the charming man who
received Jacques in an Office like that
of a DOCTOR -
- Jacques looked but did not recognize
the clown, and turned and twisted his
felt hat between his fingers. The other
waited. Then the father excused him
self 1T was astonishing what he came
there to ask, it could not be-pardon,
excuse. But, in short, it was concern
{ ing little one-a nice little one, mon
sieur. And so intelligent! Always
the first at school, except in arithmetic,
which he did not understand. A
dreamer, this little one. do you see?
Yes, dreamer. And the proof-wait
the proof"
Jacques now hesitated, stammered;
but he gathered up his courage and
said, brusquely:
'"The proof is that he wisheSto see
you, that he thinks only of you, and
that you are there before him like q
star, which he would like to have, and
that he looks"
When he had finished the futher was
deadly pale and he had great drops on
his forehead. He dared not look at
the clown, who remained with his eyes
fixed on the workman. And what was
he going to say, this Boum- Boum?
Was he going to dismiss him, take him
for fool and put him out the door?
''You live?"
.. ''Oh, very near! Street of the Alb
besses."
''Come!" said the other. Your boy
wants to see Boum- Boum? All, we'll,
he is going to see Boum- Roum."
When the door opened and showed
the clown, Jacques Legrand cried out
joyfu-ly to his son:
Francois, be happy. child! See,
here he is, Boum- Boum!''
A look of great joy come over the
child's face. He raised himself on his
mothers arm, and turned his head to-
ward the two men who approached,
questioning, for moment, who it was
by the side of his father; this gentle
man in an overcoat, whose good. pleas
ant face he did not know. When they
said to him: 1T is Boum- Boum!" he
slowly fell back on the pillow and re-
manned there, his eyes fixed, his
beautiful large, blue eyes, which
looked beyond the walls Of the little
room and were; always seeking the
spangles and the butterfly of Boum-
Boum, like lover who 'pursues his
dream.
NO." replied the child with a voice
which was no longer dry. but full of
despair, mo, it is not Boum-Bou,n."
The clown, standing near the little
bed. threw upon the child an earnest
looA, very grave, but of inexPressible
sweetness.
He shook his head, looked at the
anxious father, the grief-stricken
mothe, and said smiling: He is right,
this is not Boum-Boum!' and then he
went out.
Il cannot see him, shall never see
Boum-Boum any more!' repeated the
child, whose little voice spoke to the
angels. "Boum-Bo is perhaps there,
there where little Francois will soon
CO."
But suddenly-it was only half an
hour since the clown had disappeared
the door opened quickly, and in his
black, spangled clothes, his yellow cap
on his head, the gilded butterfly on
his breast and on his back, with a
smile as big as the mouth of q money
box. and powdered face, Boum-Boum,
the true Boum-Boum. the Boum- Boum
ot the circus, the Boum-Boum of the
popular neighborhood, the Boum-Boum
of little Francois-Boum-Bo um ap-
peared.
Lying on his little white bed, the
child clapped his thin little hands,
laughing, crying, happy, saved, with
JOY of life in his eyes, and cried
bravo with his seven-year gayety,
which all at once kindled up like a
match,
m-Boum! 1t is he, it is he, this
time! Here is Boum-Boum! Long live
Boum-loum! Good-day, Boum-Boum."
And when the doctor came back, he
found, seated by little Francois bed
side, a clown with pale face. who
made the little one laugh again and
again, and who said to the child, while
he was stirring piece of sugar into q
cup of medicines:
Thou knowest, if thou dost not
drink, little Francois, Boum-Boum will
not come back any more"
So the child drank.
lis it not good?'