The San Francisco call., 1896-06-21
Cbe Hn$el Chils.

A great many years ago there lived in
quaint old Monterey young Spanish
fisherman and his beautiful bride.
Every morning long ere the sun had
risen he and Juanita, his wife, went down
to the waters edge where the boats lay.
Now Juanita dreaded always to have him
leave her, even if only for day. for
she felt that the great blue sea might
carry him down, SO she was wont to
throw her arms around his neck
when the time for parting came
and beg him not to leave her; but Juan,
to quiet her fears, would jump gayly into
his boat and laughingly yet tenderly cry,
"Adios, my beautiful Juanita." Sitting
on the soft sand she watched. the tiny
boat until it was only speck. Then,
when the great sun climbed higher and
higher over the bay and the moon was
sinking out of sight, she sweetly sang:
Soft DER the fountain,
Lingering falls the southern moon;
Far oer the mountain
Breaks the day too soon.
Jumping mp she hastened to her little
adobe house, which stood on a hill over
looking the water, busying herself all day
with simple duties. Evening found her
again on the beach, waiting and watching
for her beloved Juan.
One happy morning lying beside them
was beautiful baby boy. AS they were
look ing with love upon him pure white
dove appeared and perched itself above
the boy.
Juan and Juanita were breathless and
soon all the town came to see the babe and
the white dove.
The parents were happier than ever
after their home had been SO blessed.
Their boy grew and was beautiful
child-so gentle and kind and loving that
the senores and senorltas called him "The
Angel Child"
No other name knew he, and the beauti-
full white dove was his constant compan-
ion, either perched on his shoulder or
hopping at his feet.
The angel child loved the calm blue
bay and was never SO happy as when the
great billows kissed his feet.
His soul was full of music and song and
almost every day he might be seen with
his mammals guitar, wandering through
the streets, over the hills and into the
woods, bringing forth sweet strains as he
went.
Years passed by-then a baby brother
came to the angel child. Happy he
was, indeed, and cried. "Oh, beautiful
mother, 1 shall show him my dearly
loved fairies of the woods. To the waters
edge I'll take him and summon forth the
water queen and her gay nymphs.
To his ear I'll hold my guitar and all
the music of the birds and the soft notes
of the trees and flowers and grasses he
will hear"
Juanita could say no word to her angel
child, for her heart filled with sadness,
while her eyes shone with love blinded by
her tears as she looked upon his sweet
face.
When another year had passed the baby
brother had gone; left the poor angel
child grieving. His guitar brought forth
no more notes OF joy and gladness.
1t was Christmas night. The rain fell in
torrents, while the great pillows from the
angry sea dashed against the rocks of the
shore.
Inside the tiny house "the angel child"
was going to God. In the next room, COO
ing and moaning, beating its wings against
the window-pane, was the dove, grieving
for its companion.
Ere the sun was in the east the sweet
spirit of the isherman's child had passed
away.
When Juanita left the bedside of her boy
she found the bird lying cold and stiff in
death.
The sorrowing ones placed the two side
by side, and over their grave hovers ever
snow-white dove. MAUDE WEsTPHAL.