Arizona republican., 1901-01-20

l could not. was SDligtd to econ0mze, for had stih my old mother in the
 courGry, at that time. and I sent her
 my savings, Then I took my meals
 where l was lodging, at the house of
 fruiterer, who made soup for the ma
 sons. Philip did not dine there, having
 arranged otherwise. and to tell the truth, the cO.king was not famous | but the apple woman was widow and
 unhappy, and l saw my custom helped her. Then. to be frank, l hal fallen in love with her daughter. Poor Cath
 erine' You will soon know all that happened, Monsieur le Curr. It was three years before I could Fell her of
 my love. have told you I was but an ordinary workman, and the little I
 earned was barely sufiiciere for my s,,lf and my mother not the least hope of marrying. Finally my good cd
 mother took herself to the skies. I was a little more at ease. laid some mon-
 ey aside, and when 1t seemed to me
 thcre was though 10 srart housa-keep-
 ing tt1ld Catherine of my sentiments.
 She would at first say neither yes nor
 no. Parbleu! I knew we'll that no one
 would jump at my offer; had nothing
 i.atterlng to give. Nevertheless, Cath
 erine consulted her mother, who con-
 sidered me a steady workman, and the
 marriage was settled upon. An. I had many happy hours, I saw that Gather inc merely accepted me-she was not in love with me: but she had god heam and I hoped to succeed in winning her
 affections someday. Of course I had told all to Philip, whom I saw each day
 in the workyard. and when Catherine and I were engaged I wished them 10
 know each other. You have perhaps already guessed the rest Monsieur le Cure. Philip was a handsome fellow, very jolly and go-i naItur,d. all that
 was not, and without doing 1t inten-
 tionally, very innocently, he made Catherine desperately in love with him. An, It was an open, honest hear,, that OF Catharincs, and as soon as she un- derspcod how she felt she told me at once. But then. just the same. will
 never forget that time. I. was her birthday and for her gift I had bought a gold watch. which had carefully ar ranged in box with cotton. We were iii tiit LNiNN lbulii, anu SIS just served my soup. l drew the watch from my pockst and opened it and showed her the jtwel. Then she burst into tears.
 !" Forgive me John she said, and keep that for the one you will marry
 can never be your wifa--I love some one elsr-I love Philip
 Surely I was in trouble then, mon sieur le cure-all I could bear. But what could I do since I loved them both? That which I believed best for their happiness. of course. Let them marry each other. And as Philip had money, l ler'. them my savings to buy rheir furniture.
 "So they married and all went happl- ly for a timr. They had a little son and l was his godfather. l named him Camills, in memory of my mother. It was after his birth that Philip com menced to do badly. He was not fit fer matrimony; he loved pleasure too dearly. You I've in s,ction among the poor, Monsieur ls Cure, you ought to know by heart this sad history. The workman who sinks little by little in to idlcness and then into debauchery, who does not bring home his wages at the end of the werk, and who only en- ters the house to quarrel and bea: h,s wife. An, we'll. in less than two vars Philip had becoma one of these mser- able mrn. I tried 90 scod him, and many times, blushing at his own con- duct, he would swear to do better But 1t did n,t last long. and then my remonstrances ended by annoying nim, and when I would go Co his house and he would catch my grieved look at he room, dlsmantled for the pawn shop. and at poor Catherine, tin and ale with sorrGw, he would become furious. One day he had the audac'tly 'c quar- rel with me about his wife, whD is as honest as the good Virgin, recalling ] had been in love with her before, and accusing me of b,ing so still, foolish and injurious things-what-I am ashamed to repeat. An, that day we came near springing at each others thr,ats. I decided what 1 must do. I seLing Catherine and my godson, and as for Philip, I met him only by chance when We were working at the same place. Only, you know, I had a great affection for Catherine and little Camille: could not lose sigh. Cf them entirely. Saturday evening, when l knew that Philip was out with his companions to drink down his wages. I fingered cl the corner and met the child. and made him talk. and is there was too much misery at home, he did not go back empty handed, you I believe that miserable Philip knew | came to aid his wife and that he shut his eyes as he founi t convenient. But I will hasten. It is too pitiful. Years passed. Philip sunk deeper and deeper into vice. but Cath@- rine. whom I had assisted as much as was able. had raised her son. He was now fine lad. good anl courageous like herself, He is not laborer; he had educated hinsef He had learned designing in night school, and he is connected with an architect where he earns good wages. So. although their home may be always saddened by the drunkard, it is far better, for Camille is very good to his mother, and for the last year or so, when I meet Catherine she is much changed, poor woman on the arm cf her son. who dresses like q grntleman, ah, that warns my heart.
 But yesterday evening on leaving my