The Press., 1898-09-01

sleep on. But I have not come here to string beads and to have the crowd gape at me. Tell me whom to raise.
 "Ghita-bring back Ghita, my Ghita," cried poor old woman, weep ing like Mary Magdalen.
 "No, no, doctor, do not wake her, |" interrupted a girl. "Oh, no, pretty creature, it's all we'll she died. Before she left us she told me all. We dressed her in-whita and put a wreath on her hair till she looked like bride Leave her in holy ground. The man she loved deserted her for some one else."
 ''Poor Ghita. But you must admit you are making it hard for me. To put an end to it all will bring back Grin- galetto, who choked to death eating codfish not month ago."
 "You must not, you must not, cried Lima Paparero, wringing her hands. "He sold me that vineyard of his on the installment plan. For ten long years I've been paying in hard coin far more than its value, and now would you have me begin all over again? It's not fair, signor dottore."
 "What a state of things. But we will let that go. I will nov propose one who left to mourn him neither brother nor sister, wife nor parent; one who left only blessed memory, an example of all the virtues, and his little savings to the hospital-I mean your good priest, who loved you so we'll, whom you regretted so deeply, who made, you remember, such dreadful journey to the other world, seeking, poor pilgrim, his Cucuguanese in every corner, even in yawning hell itself, not missing a single one. Shall I restore him to you?''
 "No, no, cried various devout mem- bers of the flock. "No, no, added Lena Russolina, the mother of the congrega- tion. "He was old, poor man, and deaf as a post, so much so that at confession he always absolved us of sins we had never committed. Leave him in glory, especially since we now have a young and hearty curate. He is as good as a saint, he sings like an organ, he breaches like seraph, and he swims with the current"
 What's to be done2 I'll try some one else see over there little white wooden cross The harebells seem try ing to hide it; the tall grass is almost on level with it. You can read that that narrow grave holds 8 10-months- old baby. True, it seems half pity to bring the tender soul back to this world to bear-what you have all been bear ing. Still, if you wish him raised, say but the word and will display my power.
 "Signor dottore," 7" whispered wrin- kled crone, "that little one is ours, alasl I am the grandmother. My daugh- ter had not yet weaned him. He was just getting his teeth, when suddenly he died. But God took him from us. Gods will be done! Now there is an. other babe at the breast. God knows what he is doing. What he takes with one hand he gives back with the other. My daughter couldn't suckle both, and we are too poor to put him out te nurse n a,z. .-,s--.. At this the doctor burst out: Enough for today, if not too much, indeed Since you won't have the miracle now will perform it on another occasion Only beg of you to agree beforehand on the person to be brought to life. , And he strode away.
 From that memorable Sunday ou1 doctor has done wonders in Cucuguano It is true he'does not raise the dead, but he saves the lives of the sick The Cucuguanese, now fully trusting him. say, eff he did not fulfill his promise to tell the truth, it was not his fault it was ours, for we wished to leave ou1 dead underground. .''-Translated Fol Argonaut From the Italian.