The evening times., 1898-04-18
THE ABBE SAUTEU'S DOG.

1 hbNAC al the CAAlruAc Gnu VI
Provence-the Provence of the olden
time, when doubts had rot yet crept
in 1t to corrupt the simple faith of the
! peasants. The old priest lived hap
PLY among his parishioners, kindly
souls. all of them, and so Obedient to
| the commandments of God and our
| holy mother church that their lives
were a real benedictiOn for their spir-
| itual father. The good man had no
need to touch them up every now and
then with rOusing sermon, nor did
| he ask the aid of others more eloquent
than himself TO convert his flock; they
| were born. lived and died in the fold
and their pastor discharged his simple
! priestly duties, and led in anticipation
| the lite of the blessed
The able adored nature and every
day you could have seen him stroIling
among the fields; reading his breviary
! while from time to time he glanced at
the gambols of Oremus, his little dog
| They were as inseparable as St ROCh
and his famous bOw-wow. Oremus en-
Joyed these strOlls as much as his mas
ter, but In a different fashion. The
priests pleasure was purely cOntempla-
tive, that of the doggie active.
Oremus firmly believed that God gave
four legs to little dogs so that they
could be twice as alert as their mas
ters, who. poor creatures, had but two.
So he raced over the fields, sometimes
ahead of the cure; jumping. making a
corkscrew of his tail. swapping at the
birds. and giving himself up to all the
pranks befitting the well-bred dog of a
priest.
Superfiuous to add that Oremus I'M
derstood absolutely all that his master
said to him, and that he could do ev-
erything but speak. AS for tricks, our
Oremus could have given points TO the
whole canine world. He danced on his
hind legs and shook hands like a Chris
tian, and his great feat was TO refuse
the most delicious chop, the juiciest
morsel, If offered with the left hand.
You may well believe that this vic
tory over the canine flesh was not gain
ed without effort. The able and his
dog had given much time and patience
TO the perfecting Of this triumph, and
evenings after the cure had dined
alone the little dog was put through
his PAGES. always ending the perform
ance with the famous Chop act" Then
the abbe, with tears in his eyes. would
ask himself If the good God could have
the heart to refuse a scrap of paradise
add that the worthy priest would have
died before giving voice to such a senti-
ment-he. son of the church
But nothing is perfect in this world
and one day the sacred calm of AbihO
was turned into confusion. Listen.
and you will learn how. A young
conscript. who had been absent seven
years, and who was supposed by the
villagers to have been killed I'm the war.
reappeared one fine morning and i'm
mediateIy took up his old life Of farm
ing. So far. so good. But what a
scandal arose, my friends. when it was
known that lie Faiard absented himself
from mass on Sunday. swore like
pirate at every word. and. more than
all. ate meat on Friday.
Abbe Sauteu almost died of mOrtifica-
tiOn. Night and day he racked his
brain TO find some means OF bringing
the apOstate back to the faith Of his
childhood. As If by accident NJ. Ie
cure often strolled past the field where
lie Faiard was working; almost al
ways he stopped to gossip with his
black sheep. and very often the cOnver-
sation turned onthe all-absOrbing ques-
ton. lie Faiard. for his part, was only
too ready to argue the point; he was a
pig-headed fellow. who liked TO hear
himself talk. and frequently il hap
pened that our good abbe-whO was BY
no means a we'll of learning-found
himself fiOOred by the arguments which
his opponent had picked up in his mil
itary life. and which he reeled of with
a parrOt-like volubility.
One day lie Faiard had reduced his
adversary to silence. he asked as a fin
ishing stroke:
Anyway, father. do you like me for 4
a saint"
Alas, far from il. my SON"
The devil fly away with me. then.
If you don't demand more of me than a
saint or even an apostle. Is capable Of
Heavens forbid" calculated the .
priest. falling innocently into the snare. .
Well, then, father" said lie Faiard. /
with a sly grin, did st. Thomas be- .
lieve on the faith of others? Didn't he +
require a miracle, and. trone-de-D Dieu,
what miracle, Who can blame me .
for following St. Thomas example
Only | ask less than his saintship;
show me the least miracle. don't care .
how small and I'll go 10 confession with .
all my heart"
Then seeing that the priest was dunn F.
founded. he added: 'MorbIeu. father. /
won't you show me one? That ought /
not to feaze a friend of Gods"
And he walked away in high glee at
.ne effect produced by his words.
Work a miracle said the priest I.
to himself Impossible, And Yet if 1
God would help me"
In truth God did help him. and one
day in mid-Lent Father Sauteu left the
house, escorted by his dog. All the way
to lie Faiard's field he chuckled TO him |
self
"A miracle. indeed, You must have
a miracle. must you, you rogue, Ore
Lot,
alone. You have other things to do.
A miracle? Yes. my fine fellow. you
are going to have your miracle. and
I'm going to have your sOuI,''
1t was Friday. lie Faiard has Just
killed his pig, and would probably have
a sausage for dinner.
The priest soon reached his destina-
ton.
Good day. lie Faiard." said he. in a
tone.
Good day. father" replied the dis
ciple of NOltaire.
With that they fell into a chat,
from time to time by the [
yelps of Oremus. and punctured. SO to |
speak, by the handfuls of seed that the |
young farmer scattered right and left /
as he walked along.
Dinner hour. The two men seated l
on little hiIIock. and lie 4
Faiard pulled a sausage from his pock-
ct: a superb sausage, red as a tomato.
and with an Odor to have made a l
saints mouth water.
Holy Virgin. lie Faiard. what a sin! /
On Friday. in Lent. too. Don't eat .
it, my SON."
Not eat it! That's good. The idea! /
| would eat 1t on Good Friday if / had 1
it. Besides, haven't | seen with my I
L. Il III II