The Coeur d'Alene press. (Coeur d'Alene, Idaho) 1892-1907, 1895-12-28
MONA.

Some years ago passed several weeks
at a fishing village ON the coast Of Brit
tany. What hole it wasi But how
picturesque! A miserable anchorage,
for ten boats at the most, a single stony
street, which I can compare to nothing
better than a mountain torrent On top
of the hill a church. q veritable gothic
toy. which stood in the middle Of
cemetery from which a magnificent
view Of the ocean was obtained. Find
ing myself in the vein for work. lin
gered in this out Of the way corner until
the end Of the month of September,
which by rare chance in rainy Finis-
tere. was that year exceptionally mild
and clear.
But one cannot always compose verses
and write. and a walk was my hygiene
and my distraction. My most frequent
promenade was along the beach. having
on my right the bleak and rocky cliffs
and on my left the uncovered stretches
of sand-an immense desert Of sand left
bare by the outgoing tide. TWO or three
times l had exchanged civihties with
some custom house officer going his
rounds, his gun slung over his shoulder.
! was so regular and peaceful a prone
nader that the sea swallows were no
longer afraid Of me and hoped in front
Of me, leaving the print Of their star
shaped feet in the wet sand walked
six or eight kilometers a day and re-
turned home with my pockets filed with
those dainty shells which are found BY
burying the hand deep down in the
damp pebbles
This was my favorite excursion
However. On the days when a strong
breeze was blowing and the tide was
very high abandoned the seashore, and
climbing the village street l strollsd
along the sandy moor. or else / settled
myself with book on a bench in a cor
ner of the cemetery, which was shelter
ed by the church tower from the west
end.
twas lovely spot, conducive to sad
ness and revery. The church tower
stood out against the autumn sky, over
which dark clouds were scurrying.
Crows, whose nests were in the steeple.
few out with their hoarse cawing, and
the shadow Of their large wings glided
over the scattered tombstones, almost
hidden in the grass.
In the evening more than at any 9TH
er time, the last rays Of the setting sun
bathing the sea as though with blood.
the ragged branches Of the skeleton Of
an old apple tree silhouetted against the
crimson sky and the deep intense still
ness Of the wild home of the dead food
ed my soul with melancholy.
1t was on such an evening as have
just described that, wandering among
the tombs, many Of which bore under
the sailors name this mournful legend,
"Died at sea-" read on a new cross
the following words, which astonished
and puzzled me: Here reposes Mona
lie Magnet. Died at sea Oct. 80, 1878,
at the age Of 10"
Died at sea! A young girl! Women
hardly ever go ont in the fishing boats.
How did this happen?
well, monsieur, said grud voice
behind me suddenly, you are looking
at poor Nona's tomb?"
turned around and recognized an old
sailor, with a wooden leg, whose good
graces had acquired by the aid Of q
few glasses Of brandy, which had Civ
Yes" replied But l though,
that you fishermen never permitted
women to go out with you have ever
been told that they bring you misfor
tune"
and that is the truth" responded
the good man. Besides, Mona nevel
went into boat. Would you like t.
know how the poor little one died
Well, will tell you
First Of all, must tell you tina
Pierre, her father, was a topman, Xix,
myself, and an old comrade. At Bour
get, when Admiral La Ronciere RAISED
his golden helmet ON the point Of hi
saber, and we flung ourselves, hatche
in hand. on the embattled houses, vi
marched elbow to elbow, Pierre and I
and it was he who received me in hi
arms when those cursed Prussians put
ball in my thigh That same evening il
the ambulance at the fort Pierre he'll
my hand to give me courage while tn,
surgeon amputated my limb, and h,
was there at my bedside when the ad
miral brought me my medal But thos,
rascally Prussians got the best Of us
and we were sent home I, with m,
wooden leg, was practically helpless
But Pierre, who was uninjured, hire
on board a fishing smack. Very soor
afterward his wife died from an inter
mittent fever, leaving him the care O
little Mona. who was going on 10 year
Of age.
Naturally while the widower was a
sea it was I, his comrade, l, the ole
bachelor, who cared for the little one
She was a good and pretty child, mon
sieur; courageous and sweet tempered
We very often went to the rocks at low
tide to gather turtles, shrimps, prawn
and sometimes We were fortunate enough
to find u lobster. All, but we were goot
friends
''This went ON for about two years
Mona had made her first communion
grown and shot up like a thistle in thu
sand. But one day the Amelia, Ia
Magnets boat. was overtaken in q storm
and wrecked The skipper did not hau
in his sail soon enough. aud the boa,
stxuck on that reef you can zee oyeI