The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1896-11-16
PART I.

pie seemed 70 live Ii The inward world
to keep company with evil spirits ane
70 become one of them. or TO feel tn,
touches of angel wings, and to be lifted
into higher spheres. One noble sou
rose above her times, and her we ar,
pleased to associate with one Of the
most remarkable romances of her owr
or Of any age.
It was near the close of the seven
teenth century. Pierre Calef sat
smoking on the steps of widow
house near Cops Hill in Boston town.
"Widow Restore, you surely do not
intend to take that young man into
your homer"
"Yes. Pierre. Why not? Something
tells me that ought to do it-some-
thing within--it is what you do for
others that brings to you at last tho
cup of thanksgiving"
'But he is penniless, and will not be
likely to add to your small income"
pierre Calef. it is less the purpose of
life TO make money than to help men.
There is high, strong purpose in the
young sailors heart, and i am going to
try to help him."
It was Boston town. The North
church stood hard by on the hill, and
near it was the early burying ground.
Along the curve of Salem street were
solid houses and fine gardens, and be-
yond was the Common, where cattle
grazed free, and rested by the pond
under the patriarohal elms.
Pierre Calef was friend OF the
"Widow Restore" He called upon her
often and volunteered his advice after
the manner of the times. He liked her,
but thought that she had more heart
than head. and that the former needed
not unfrequent correction. and, in such
cases. he never failed to offer his zap
pies of gold in pictures Of silver
"Restore?" Was that the widows
true name? No. 1t was name
given her by the good people because it
expressed her character. 1t was a
time Of stocks. pillories and whipping
posts. and when she found some mis-
led person exposed in public she would
remind the clergy or the magistrate
that true duty was to restore such a
one in the spirit of meekness. Hence
her provincial name.
1t was high noon when Pierre Calef
left the widows door. Soon her adopt
ed sailor boy came home from the
'wharvcs. She bad prepared good
dinner for him. aud after 1t they sat
down in the shade Of the steps by the
open door. and talked together.
f"You said" questioned the widow,
"that your name is Phipps."
Eyes. madam; that is my true name,
William Phippa"
"Your father and mother arc living
I'm Maine?"
"Ycs: they are poor, and have a large
family"
IL wish might do something for
them." said the widow, her heart EN-.
Ilargipg. "How many children have
thsy?"
There have been twenty-six born to
them. madam"
The widows eyes widened.
do you know how to read and
writer
'No: there was no school where we
lived. It Is forest. i want TO know
how to read; that has been one of those
Little will get come one to teach me.
Ono only needs to learn the alphabet TO
And out everything, I am told. II
could read and write might become
tho master of a ship"
~ will teach you"
william Phipps, or Phips, as his namc
was 1t that time spe1ied-the young
sailor from the pine woods of Maine
obtained work on the cargoes Of the
vessels lying at the wharves. He re-
turned from his work daily with nimble
feet, for IL at once became his delight
TO be under the influence OF the widow.
He wanted no other society.
They used to sit together by the open
windows where the morning glories
swung. In the long summer twilights.
he repeating to her his "a-b-abs." as
primary education was termed in the
dame school.
While they were thus occupied,
Pierre Calef sometimes passed by, AMI
on more than one occasion he stopped,
and looked in at the door. and sat down
on the step. and whitfield his pipe, and
said absently:
"The cup Of Thanksgiving7"
The young sailor heard IL. What did
II near? p? II formed in his quick imagin-
alton q mystic picture. like that OF the
legend Of the Holy Grail. II was sug-
gested 10 him IA 10 one Of the old
knights Of the Round Table. that he
might gain a cup that would be bless
ing TO some one. perhaps TO the good
widow herself.
One night he came home troubled.
The widow noticed his mood and asked:
why are your thoughts wool-gath-
s-lng. my lnd?'
~ did mean net to-day. I strucis
Jack Cone. ! have an awful temper.
and cannot contain myself sometimes"
WY boy. The fniTure OF life usually
romes through some small fault like
that. and ones best friend Is he who