The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1897-04-04


and put the soup over the fire, and sew
and spin a little. She grew more unwell
| every day; and Paolina, so slow of COM
prehension in some things, was quick to
see these signs Of debility and decay. He
did his utmost for her and for his thank
less little sister; but that all was very
small for the gains of a man at odd Jobs,
which was all he could get now, and never
either considerable or certain. As canton
nier the weekly pay was sure and good,
! and the sense of being a public servant
was a cause of pride and of respect from
Others. Everyone Is civil to a cantonnier,
with his municipal badge-even though he
| be clearing up mud or roofing up nettles.
Now he was nothing; poor fellow asking
to be hired by those nearly as poor as
| himself. And he had lost all his pleasant
| acquaintance. He no longer saw the la
dies and their dogs, the gentry and their
horses, the drivers and shepherd, and men
| in their little carts going to and fro TO the
| town. They might have been all dead for
what he saw of them, working as he did
| in remote fields or barns, or workshops or
| millhouses, and seeing nothing of who
went by between the familiar hedgerows.
He got home late in the evening and ate
his frugal meal silently, and went TO his
| bed of sacking under the roof seeing very
well that his sister had never forgiven
him or altered her opinion as TO the cause
| of their woes.
She was only IL, but she was shrewd,
sharp and selfish. He had tended to make
| her so by his indulgence, and the poisoned
| thorn which ranked in her soul was the
knowledge that while a cantonnier's sister
might have married fairly well, the sister
| of a day laborer seeking odd Jobs might
| pine in vain for a sutton.
Don't you see, Nesta, how Ill mother
looks?'' he said to her one day.
who made her so?" said the girl, rude
ly
ut is not my fault" said the poor lad,
humbly.
| "Whose?" said Nesta, Struggling her
| shoulders. you make the vicar believe
so, but I'm not snch a fool as he. They
| don't put people In prison for nothing"
Il will turn you out of the house II you
| dare say such things to mev cried Pao-
lima, white with rage and pain.
They will put you in prison again II
| you do" said Nesta ''If I never marry
1t will be your fault"
Marry! You are a chit of child
Nannle's Lena mafrfes come Pentecost
and she is only year older than l am. &"
replied Nesta, with her face on fire with
her wrongs And where shall l get a
dower2 VIII you give me anything to
buy my necklace with, or even to buy my
| clothes?"A
She returned so perpetually to this
theme and rung the changes on il so per-
|
| brother feel really guilty towards her; and
she was so tall of her age, so precocious,
and conceited that she did really appear
like manageable maiden to him.
Il have spoilt her chances" he said
sadly, to his mother. But, indeed, IL was
no fault of mine. Do-do-beleve that
mother"
II never doubted it for a moment, my
DEAR said Rosina, and she thought sin
| cerely that she never had.
why should Falio be kept on and /
sent off?' said Paolna, brooding on the
| greatest wrong of all.
His mother shook her head and groaned
"Why, my dear lad, Falio's brothers
brother-in-law by first marriage Is gard
ener to the syndic's daughters husbands
cousin. He could get a word spoken for
him in high quarters; everything goes by
| favor and by having the right word said
at the right minute to the right person.
We haven't anybody to speak for us, ex-
| cept the vicar up yonder, and the clergys
word does more harm than good nova
days"
| For Rosina, though illterate and SIM
pie was intelligent, and knew a little of
| how the world Wagged beyond those haW-
| thorn and hazel hedges which bounded
the only sphere she had ever known.
| "Nothng would matter" she said with
| a heavy sigh, IF were only as strong as
/ Il
"No, mother; no, no." said Paolina, with
| sob in his throat. His heart was full;
/ he wanted to say much. but did not know
/ how to put his feelings into words His
mother could speak well, but he had never
been able to do so. He had only been
able to keep his roads in good order, and
| that they would not let him do any longer.
Rosna grew so weak that they called
| in the parish doctor, who said little, but
ordered medicines and good food, strong
| broth and wines.
He might as well have ordered the stars
down from the skies.
Paolina sold his watch to get the medl-
cine, but that was not Of much use with
| out nourshment and they could not buy
it, And If they could have bought Il they
would not have known how to cook it.
"You will be well again, mother when
| the warm weather comes" said Paolina.
Let us hope so, dear" said Roslna.
But in her own mind she thought, When
| the heat does come II will finish me-
And she lay awake, tormented by anxi-
ETY. for her children. Paolina had lost
his sheet anchor and would drift nobody
could say how or where and Nesta was
a young creature who, without control,
would in all likelihood go very far wrong.
"Oh, let me live Let me live" prayed
| the poor mother.
But those prayers were not heard. There
are so many similar.
And one night In the hot MINDLESS sum-
mer she died. so quietly that the girl
Nesta, sleeping on the same mattress,
was not awakened from her sound child
like slumber and waking at sunrise found
herself beside a corpse. Her shrieks
brought Paolina indoors, reaching his
ears as he mounted the hill path behind
the house to go 20 a days work in the
pine woods. He had done no work for
four days.
His grief was less violent than Nesta's,
but It was intense. IL froze him into sui
lenness and silence as his dismissal from
the Commune had done. She was dead,
and 1t was his fault.
The priest came, and the doctor 10 GER
tify the death; he sat stolidly by the bed
and did not speak TO them.
AT last. frightened by his look and his
silence, the vicar touched his arm.
"Shall the parish bury her, dear boy?"
he asked gently. you know, tomorrow
at latest"
Paolina sprang TO his feet.
mo" he said, with furious oath. mo.
She always said, when / die. bury me
decently Don't let the parish touch me,
have been a decent woman No. the
oarish shall not touch her."