The daily morning journal and courier., 1901-05-06

about to refer--I tried to act as if no
 a suspicion of the true state of affairs
 had entered my mind, and Doris wa'
 nearly her natural self by the time we
 reached Canal.
 A short but spirited dispute as to the
 best method of reaching our destina-
 ton. and Doris led the way triumphant
 ly into Claiborne car whose conductor
 she speedily captivated by one of hel
 brilliant smiles as she said, Please
 put us off at St. Rochs." He was all l interest immediately, and smiled on
 us several times in the most friendly
 manner, while the two men across the l way, who were our only fellow passen-
 gers strained their ears to discover the
 particular object of our mission. That
 they were not successful I need hardly
 say; for, as everybody knows, wish, l to come true, must never pass one's 1 lips till it is uttered at the little shrine. | And so we passed from our uptown
 world into that other quarter, whose
 every queer old house seems to me to | hold some mysterious secret within it's
 walls, and whose delightful atmosphere
 of romance clothes even the dirty little
 street children with new sort of inter- est which dust and rags fail utterly to inspire elsewhere.
 As we proceeded and Doris fell into a
 retrospect vein, she began to amuse
 me, to say nothing of those attentive men, with anecdotes of other visits to St. Roch's, made by other people, as well as by herself.
 There was a Wisconsin girl here three years ago. she said solemnly, "and she was awfully in love with a man, but he didn't seem to care so much about her. Well, she went to St. Roch's and prayed for him, and it wasn't three months before they were married"
 land when somebody asked her about that the other day she said: Yes, I prayed hard enough for him then, and I wish I could get rid of him the same, way now
 Doris was entirely unabashed, though at this sequel to her story. "Oh, well, she just didn't have sense enough to ask for the right man. That wasn't St. Roch's fault"
 And I had to agree with her, for girl who could speak so of her husband was not likely to have shown much taste, fn the first place, in her choice; and then, as the sun got around to our side of the car we moved across the way in a vain endeavor to find cool spot Doris told about the girl who had gotten St. Joseph from the little shrine, and, after having it duly blessed, thought she would make assu- rance doubly sure by putting drop of holy water on it's head. The next morning. on opening the case, she found the head of the little image gone seemingly melted off-and of course headess St. Joseph couldn't do any body any good.
 I've lost mine got down there Good Friday said Doris, little nournfully, and I knew she was thinking about Frank, who had given her the one in question when they made the pilgrim age together that day. Really, things did look pretty bad, if omens were to be taken into account but had implicit confidence in Franks love for Doris, and as for fer-wasnt this trip proof enough for any reasonable person that she was already dying to make up?
 Did you hear that tale about the couple that met down there for the first time?" asked Doris, as our car gave a lurcb and we turned down into Urqu- hrat street.
 No" I answered, but she did not seem to care, really, whether I had or not, so we logged along in silence for some time. However, it is not the fashion in these days of gymnastics, 1 bloomers and self-control for girl to nope and tell the secrets of her woe even 10 her best friend, so when I said, apropos of our thoughts:
 I'm not going to ask for man, though" adding inwardly, this time"
 Doris laughed and answered: "Oh, I 1 want two or three"-and then got cut | first, as the conductor reminded us that we had reached our corner.
 Even the children on the avenue, which takes it's name from the good | saint, seemed to know perfectly the ob ect of our presenfe in their part of the | own, and paused in their play to whis- per something about "St. Roch's" while tired mothers, with babies in
  IS we passed their doors
 We reached the entrance to the old cemetery with no interruption save the across the sidewalk into their table of some gentle dairy cows, at whose appearance Doris retreated pre- ipitately half a block and held her maroon parasol close behind her back. Aswe finally entered the little gate an aggressive sign of No Admlttance Ex- ept on Business" greeted up from the ffice door.
 T suppose we are on business" de- Jared Doris, setting her lips, and, in came out with St. Jo- eph and a candle. I followed suit as 0 the latter, and we proceeded deco ously up the shell walk, flanked on ach side by tall, heavy tombs, till we anne to the little circular inclosure, within which lies the sleeping babe hseled in white marble. : This is the wishing cross" Doris aid pointing to the large iron cross ,hlch seems to keep watch over the : tile white figure, and closing her < lue eyes reverently, she knelt and of ( cred a prayer We have always been ready for bit f fun on previous occasions of this ind, but Doris looked soAmuch in ear- est this time I couldn't even think of joke, but followed her meekly about rom \place to place, till my knees ached , readfuily and my head felt as though hot blanket was laid on top of it. As