The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-03-29
Also,
500 pairs Cordu-
roy Knee Pants
At $1.OO and $1.25 pair

1t breaks my heart to think of it, only
200 francs MONTH As much as you
spend on your cafe and your, cigars. |
don't ask you to see them, but won't
you help them just little? We are
living in plenty, while they"-and re-
ceiving no answer from Bourguetl who
was pensively turning the glass he had
emptied between his fingers, the old wo-
man had risen from her seat and come
up to him, putting trembling hand on
his shoulder, silently pleading; Vain
effort! Bourgueil, suddenly remembering
that he was a Roman, had again poured
forth his maledictions and his formida-
And on this lovely Easter morning he
is more than usually sad and ill-temper-
ed-this strong-minded old mason. He
reels very. nervous; he has cut his chin
twice while shaving. oh, no; he will
not be weak enough to pay an income to
his undutiful son. A Roman, tell you.
Would old Brutus have relented? OF
course, not. And last night he was on
the point Of yielding! That is what
haven't energy for two sous, the women
haven't. Bourgueil is firmer than ever
in his resolutions as he puts on a white
shirt and his grey holiday suit. He goes
he was so proud of when things had
still some interest for him, and looks at
BourgueiI, who has a fine appetite this
morning, feels cross at the thought of
eating only at y. Soon Mother Bour-
bunch Of box plant. She places 1t on a
little side table, and suddenly the whole
room is filled with the strong, fresh odor
Bourguefl is no poet; he has not a very
refined nature. Yet he is impressionabie
for all that--like you or me-and the
sight of the green branches recalls far
off memories. While the old woman is
busy taking apart the twigs to decorate
the rooms with them, the penetrating per
fume affects his old heart He remembers
a certain Easter morning-ah. 80 lone
long ago-when he was still a workman
and his young wife dressmaker's APP
prentice. 1t was their honeymoon for
they had married a few days before Lem
Then, too, she had returned from church
with a fragrant burden and made their
only, room bright and festive. How pref
~ she looked, and how he loved herl Ana
by a rapid effort of imagination he re-
calls N az, an instant their long years OF
married life; she has ever been SO indus
trlous so thrifty, so devoted. And now
ne fortunes her-this good brave woman .
wicked son. "a ms
But is Edward really so wicked &C oil
that? OF course a fellow ought to honor
ms rather and mother and obey them .
put then' are not youth and love sufficient
excuses Tor many a fault? He watches
mother Bourgueil with moist eyes as she
goes 70 place spray of box above Ed
ward picture on the wall-a picture of
shelr boy IN MS college suit, when they
teIt SO proud of him and of his studies
what is the matter? The old mason
hardly knows what he is about His
head swims; 1t is that strong odor of
the plant, doubtless. But his heart fills
with something that seems very much
like mercy and pardon. He goes up to
his wife, takes her hands, and looking
down at the picture, mutters, his rough
voice grown strangely soft: Say, Glenn
ence, shall we-forgive him?' All; the
cry OF joy that bursts from the mother
lips! And he has called her "CIemence .
just as in their young days He has not
given her that name for more than fifteen
years. And she understands that he loves
her still-her husband, her old compan-
ion.
She throws herself in his arms and
kisses him frantically all over his face.
takes his head in both her hands. and
whispers in his ear. The other day-she
couldn't help it really-she went to see
their boy. He is so unhappy to have Of
Tended them. And if he has not come a
hundred times to beg their forgiveness.
1t is simply because he did not dare
You know" she adds-and her voice
becomes soft and caressing-"you know
I have seen his wife, and you really
cannot blame him for loving her, she is
so sweet. and as fresh as a rose. She
just worships our Edward-one can see
that at once; and she keeps their little
home in such apple pie order Yes, yes
1 know; her past But If Edward loves
her as she is? And after all, we are
not of the fashionable world, and in our
class one is not so particular"
Bourgueil feels oppressed-he is chok-
ing Putting a trembling finger on his
wifes lips, "That will do.' he says. Send
for a cab. Let US take some Of these