Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1901-07-04
The CHRYsLH AdHs.

From Home LIE.
This being Al ssin Day. ev-
eryone in the Frissonne farm had
retired early. At eiel 'clock in
the evening the beds Ire made.
the bolts we're drawn a the lights
extinguished. Franei lhe little
shepherdess, had just &c to her
room, narrow garrat \ nhite-
washed walls, 5 oornsI the lofs
shut on b par titioa......,'.',......:::snle.
place, with It's bed Of Do1Fly Joined
planks, straw mattress, and thin
coverlet. In winter one literally
froze in this place. The cold and
damp penetrated through the gfass
skylight. This glass lad been
broken for years and vera /; there
seemed to be no good 4eason for
mending it. The roof w&a so low
that Francine's head touched the
old worm-eaten beams. which creak
ed incessantly when there was a
wind. A miserable retteat, xbut
good enough for farm hand.
Francine, however, was always
scared OF the place because of the
strange sounds which came from
the loft at night-the huge, gloomy
loft, with Its piles of vood aud
mounds of grain, and haunted by
enormous rats and monstrpus bats.
Every time she entered the loft she
shut her eyes and felt her way to
her corner. for old man Desgronges,
the farmer of Frissonnette, never
made any provision for lighting
people to bed.
This evening, Francine was sitting
on her bed aud instead of undressing q
at once. fell into q reverie with her
eyes half closed. The bells of Vey-
oux were awakening the echoes in
the plain and their music rang
through the silence of the night.
1t was the night of the dead. Q night
OF gloom, reviving the memQry Of
the dear departed, olthose who
slept in the little cemeteries of Au.
vergne, beneath the shade of the fiji
aQd eve trees. At this very mo.
ment prayers for humility were as.
cending from every fireside; they
were praying around the hearth OF
before the old cruciGxes; poor old
women were kneeling on the bare
floors Of their cottages; the souls oi
the dead seemed to be wandering
about the places familiar to them
in life; each was remem bered and
all were prayed for.
Francine thought Of her mother
who had died the previous winter
her only relative. She had now
slept in the cemetery of Donaize
for a year; she had not visited the
grave since the day she saw the
grave-digger lover the coffin and
cover it with large shovelfuls oi
black earth and fragments of bones.
The day after the funeral Count
des Voziers sent for the orphan and
gave her into the care of old man
Desgranges, who needed a girl tc
tend his fiocks. The count did moi
conceal from the farmer that Fran.
cine had been poorly brought mp,
that she had to this time been in
charge of q bad mother that she
would have to be sternly dealt with
to make good girl Of her and tc
eradicate all traces Of vice.
Crest easy" said tha-farmer.
'1'll manage her. At the farm VIC
have to work hard before eating,
and she'll have to do her SHARE"
Aud the count having thanked
the farmer for bis beneficence in
taking the girl, Francine followed
Desgranges to the farm. Since
that day she had never been back
to Donaize; she had never had an
hours freedom. She was mp al
dawn and went to bed late, worn
out by work which was too hard for
her.
Sitting on the bed, sad and lone.
ly, and with her eyes half closed,
Francine bethought that tomorrow
in the cemetery at Donaize all the
graves would be covered with flow.
ers or at least would be visited; ONLY
her mothers would be deserted and
devoid of tender souvenirs. To asL
old man Desgranges' permission t.
visit Donaize was out of the ques'
tion. Frissonnette was ten kilo