, 1898-09-30

the door. After taking their names he
ushered them into Il sumiituous drawing
room. Moussia vas lying III a couch
wrapped in Il loose white plush gown.
She was mech thinner, very pale. Her
large eyes shone with "A phosphorescent
brilliancy. Recognizing her friends, she
uttered a joyful exclamation, and rails
ing herself with difficulty she gave
them her emaciated hand.
81 am SO happy to see you, she said,
coughing almost at every word. "You
must not feel hurt because | did not
come to thank you. / am not allowed to
go ont. 1t seems that / worked too hard
on my last picture. | took cold standing
in the grass. l am now here for some
time"
The h~orticulturist and his wife look
ed at her in bewilderment. An expires.
sion of deep pity came over their faces
The gardener no longer knew VIVA. to
do with the package containing the
silk. He felt that he could not return it.
I'VE don't mind it as you were sick"
answered the wife, but still we were
sorry that you sent us this silk. What
we did for you we did willingly. We
did nor wan IA present for letting you
"ol'i on Jul place. My husband and l
deci'led t." bring the dress back"
"Oh, you were the II who wished
to bring it back" interrupted the hus-
band.
You are both foolish about the mat
ter exclaimed Moussia, laughing as
she used to. You would pain me deep
ly by refusing my present. ] wish you
to wear this dress" she added, speak
ing to the gardeners wife, "in remem-
brance of me when / am no longer in
this world
Then they both assured her that as
she was so young she would soon regain
her strength and overcome the disease.
mo" answered Moussia, 81 cannot
get well. The candle is burning at both
ends. l shall not live long. You know
that children who are too clever never
live long" She tried to laugh, but "A
mist covered her blue eyes.
"And the apple tree?" she asked, alb
ruptly changing the subject. SIS it al
ways beautiful"
"Oh, no, indeed" they answered,
''the blossoms are all gone but the fruit
is beginning to show. Apples will be
plentiful. You must come out and eat
some in September. The good air of
Sevres will restore you to health, made
moisclla."
She shook her head and let it fall
back on the cushions, tired and exhaust
ed by having spoken SO much.
When the horticulturist and his wife
departed, Moussia closed her eyes and
thought of the apple tree. 1t was in
good health. The sap was running from
its roots TO its branches. 1t spread its
foliage in the sun, laughing ut rain and
wind, at cold nights and hot Moons,
while she, imprisoned in a room, at
tended by the wisest Paris doctors, was
slowly dying. Oh, misery of human life!
She wa young, beautiful, rich, beloved,
unusually gifted. She had SO much to
tell the world, her head was so full of
pictures.
Toward the end of October the gar.
dener and his wife received IA letter
with a wide black border telling til II
of Moussia's death, and these good
Iit NNlN " bo lpN'iN Slll II uAl Ing
II month had been the life and bright.
ness of their modest country dwelling.
In the mad whirl of large cities a hu-
maj life ended makes little more i'm
preston than the falling of u dead leaf.
After a few days of painful astonish-
ment the gay Partisan world which had
so admired and feted Moussia returned
to its business and its pleasures. Alone
three women i'll mourning continued to
weep in the home of the Avenue de
Villiers.
One April afternoon they were quiet
ly sitting in the drawing room, filled
with souvenirs of the departed, when
the gardener and his wife came into the
room. They were dressed for the coca
sion. The husband wore his Sunday
coat, the wife had her shawl on, under
which she concealed n large package.
Excuse us, ladies, said the garden.
er, Il am afraid we are disturbing you,
but we could not let this time of the
year go by without letting you know
that we often speak of the dear young
lady. Ny wife and / thought we would
like to bring you something i'll remeln.
brance of her. The woman raising her
shawl brought forth an armful of flow
cry branches. These are" he contin.
ued, 1.-THE blossoms of the apple tree she
painted. They will tell you Letter than
we can how we felt toward Mile. Nous
STA, and if you will allow it we will
bring you every year some blossoms
from the tree as long as it bears"
What kindness there is in simple
hearts! 1t is truly worth more than all
the eloquence of the poets and all the
gold of the earth. The gardener and his
wife have kept their word. and thus it
is that Moussia' picture is almost al
ways adorned with pink blossoms or
ripe a~pples-Elithful and simple offer
ing from the old apple tree to the dead
young girl.-Froni the French OF Andre
Theuriet For Shor: Stories.
Chinese Highways.
In China there is no rpuular ctandar1