Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1905-06-16
THE LETTER.sox.
BY Rene Bazln.
Translated by H. Twltchell.

am to write His parish was small fairly
moral, comfortably Off, and accustomed
to the ways Of the old curate who had
presided over It for thirty years
The village ended with the rectory.
Beyond this, meadows sloped gently
away to the river and from them in sum-
mer rose the songs of birds mingled with
the perfume Of growing plants. Just be-
| hind the house was a garden, bordering
! the meadows. The first rays Of the sun
fell upon 1t, the last ones also.
One could find cherries there by the
month Of May, the gooseberries much
| earlier; while a week before the Assump-
ton, usually, one could not pass within
a hundred yards OF the spot without
breathing the heavy perfume of ripening
melons.
Now, the curate Of Saint Philemon was
by no means a gourmand; he had reached
the age when the appetite is only a re-
membrance. His back was bent his face
wrinl6led, one of his little gray eyes was
sghtless behind his great round glasses,
and one ear was so deaf that he had to
turn about and present the other when
any one addressed him on the wrong side.
1t was not he who ate the fruits Of his
| orchard; lawless urchins stole their share
and the birds took theirs Blackbirds
| Toasted there the year round, singing their
loudest in payment; orioles, birds of pas
sage assisted them during the weeks Of
/
for their rights, and tomtits-a prolific
greedy species-clung. back downwards
to the branches, turning, climbing, peck
ing grape here and pear there-gen-
uine marauders, Offering as a recompense
their cries, shrill as the rasping of a saw
Old age had made the priest indulgent
even to them. "Brutes never correct
their faults" he said; IF were to con-
denim them on that account, how many OF
my parishtoners should not have to con-
denim for the same reason!' He content
ed himself, therefore with clapping his
hands on entering his garden, so as not
to have to be the witness OF two out
rageous depredations
There would then be a general upris-
ing Of wings, as II all the blossoms
around. broken of by a strong wind, had
begun to fiy-gray, white, yellow, and red.
Peace followed for five minutes. But the
silence was so great in this little village,
where no sound Of industry or traffic was
heard, that IL the repentance OF these
feathered vandals had continued the
able would surely have fallen asleep over
his breviary.
Fortunately, the return was prompt; a
bold sparrow would lead the way, follow
ed by a blue jay, and soon the whole
band OF robbers were again at work. The
able could then pass and repass, open
and close his book, muttering, They will
not leave thing this year, 1t made no
difference; not a bird paid the slightest
attention to him.
Birds know very well that those who
are In sympathy with them will show
themselves indulgent. Every spring they
nested around the rectory in greater num-
bers than anywhere else. The best places
were all quickly taken-hollows In the
trees, holes in the walls, three branched
forks in the apple and pear trees; and
one could even see brown bills like sword
Tnf 49,,
filling every available spot on the roof.
One year, every desirable place being
occupied, l suppose, a tomtit spied the
slit under the slanting board covering the
letter-boX placed at the right of the en-
trance to the presbytery 1t slipped in
side, came out apparently satisfied with
the results OF the exploration, and at
once set about building a nest in the
newly discovered region, forgetting moth
ing that would make 1t warm-feathers
wool, hair and even bits Of lichens from
the old trees
One morning Philomene. the house
Keeper, rushed angrily out into the gar
den. with a paper in her hands. She
met the curate strolling along under an
archway of laurel-trees.
Look at this paper, monsieur! See
how dirty 1t Is! They are a pretty lot!'
who, Philomener'
Why. those miserable birds you allow
your soap-bowls next"
Il have only one"
They have even had the impudence to
hang nest inside your letter-box l
opened II because the postman rang and
that doesn't happen every day. 1t was
full Of hay, hair, threads, feathers of every
kind, and in the centre was a thing 1
never saw before kissing like a Viper!'
The priest began to laugh like grand
father when he Is told of the pranks Of
favorite grandchild.
1T must be the coal tomtit," he re-
piled. Nothing else would devise such
a scheme. Above all, don't NEEDLE with
1t, Philomene"
mo danger of that: it isn't such a
beautiful object! replied the old woman,
disdainfully.
The able FASTENED away across the
garden, through the house, down the
walk to the gateway which shut in the
presbytery, and, with careful hand.
half opened the box, which would have
held the annual correspondence of the
whole village.
He was right The cone-shaped nest.
its color, the composition of its wool, and
It's transparent lining, confirmed the con-
lecture of the delighted old man. He
listened to the kissing OF the invisible
mother, then said
Never fear, little one! / understand
your case; twenty-one days of incubation
anu three weeks Tor raising your family
are what you want. You shall have them:
l shall take the key away, so that you
will not be disturbed"
He did so, in fact. After he had made
his morning rounds in the parish. he
thought again of the tomtit, that it might
possibly be disturbed by the arrival of
some mail, that letter might be dropped
In upon 1t during the brooding period
The event was not very probable as
letters were rare in the parish. Still, as
the holiday of Saint Robert was nearing.
the priest thought IL would be prudent TO
write these words to the three remaining
friends death had left to him: do not
send me any holiday greetings this year.
1t would be disagreeable for me to re-
eeiye letter just at present Later 1
VIII explain, and you will understand my
reasons"
The friends thought his eyesight had
failed him, so they did not write.
During the whole three weeks of incu-
baton the curate did not pass through
the gateway once without thinking of the
little eggs dotted with red lying there SO
close to him. When the twenty-second
day arrived, he bent over and listened.
his ear against the opening of the box:
then stood up, eXclaiming gleefuly:
They are chirping, Philomene! thew
are chirping! Now, there are some things
that owe their lives to me; they shall NOT
regret 1t, nor eitherl"
Meanwhile, in the green parlor OF his
palace, in the capital of the department,