The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1911-04-01

low her quietly. acting the part Of q
nature that, whether for better or
worse, was as unlike Nellie as snow
is unlike fire.
The son was buried. But from that
day Mrs. Jocelyn, ST.. had some half
yelled doubts about her convert, and
set to work with more zeal than ever
to make Nellie what she ought to be.
She took her to live in her own house,
so that she could better superintend
the bringing up of the grandson. This
was not very wise arrangement, as
| the old lady was growing quite irri-
table from her recent loss and the
little boy more mischievous as became
his years, and poor Nellie less able to
conform.
The cold, lonely deathbed of her
husband haunted her, and, as she often
said to herself, it wasn't so bad for
him, because he did not know any bet
ter
Her boy was growing up unbaptized
and uninstructed, except what his
grandmother taught him, and she had
a habit of trailing off into the habits
and customs of the heathens, which, as
Nellie knew, twas not catechism'
Every day she heard the bell of old
St. Johns ring out the Angelus,, and
often she heard it toll for funerals.
Once she caught glimpse through the
open door of rows and rows of little
white-dressed, yelled and flower
crowned girls waiting for Holy Com
munion
She got thinner and more nervous
could stand it no longer. Take me
away" she cried. 'Take me away
until I forget" She was not sure
what she wanted to forget-her hus-
bands death, or his lonely deathbed,
or the voice of the bell from ST..
Johns.
Mrs. Jocelyn, ST., always kind, but
| later with a sort of bone in her kind
ness, consented to make a trip with
her to California. She had never really
forgiven her for marrying her son. and
now that he was gone it was harder to
be kind, and somehow Nellie did not
seem so plant or grateful for her
teachings as before.
1t was damp weather and cold in the
fall, and Nellie contracted a cough
during the process of getting ready.
The trip was delayed a few days, then
a few weeks, and then the news was
spread that Nellie was not going to
California, but to the dark grave.
The few of her confirmation class
that remembered her said: God grant
her grace before she dies and Father
Moriarty said nothing, but he thought
daily as he offered the Holy Sacrifice
of the bright little girl he had baptized
and instructed and that had gone
astray."
| Her acquaintance thought what a
fine match she had made, and how sad
everything was turning out; and if she
had made will and if she had any
thing to will.
Meantime Nellie was gliding rapidly
downward to what she remembered in
her girlhood praying against, an url,
provided DEATH
On her splendid bed in her beautiful
room she felt poorer than the poorest
of her girl friends. Not a prayer
could she say. How could she get a
priest? Would Father Moriarty come
after the way she had talked to him ?
Yes, of that she was certain. He would
come. Her little, petty quarrel seemed
very small compared with what
Father Moriarty could bring her. Oh
if she could only get word. But, no
She opened her eyes, only to see the
calm, strong face of her mother-in.
law watching beside her. Somehow
she felt that this woman was quite
resigned to her death. She thought OF
all the kindnesses she had shown her
and they all seemed so small in the
light of future life that was beginning
to beam on her compared with what
she had given up.
Could she ask her now to bring hel
the priest? Her courage failed. The
nurse? No, she would only ask Mrs
Jocelyn's permission. The doctor, per
haps. But then she sang for years in
the Methodist choir with him, and was
ashamed.
4 Back and forth beat the words or
her brain that she had learned LONG
fago:
"Question.-Why is the conversion
of an apostate so extremely difficult
"Answer.-Because by their apos
tacy they cruelty again the Son of God
and make mockery of Him"
i Back and forth the question and
answer swayed, until at last she cried
in agony: "Oh, Jesus, did not cruelty
Thee in my heart!"
q Mrs. Jocelyn, who sat by her, was
very much moved, almost frightened
She shifted the ice bag on her head
and sponged off her face. Still the lips
mumbled, and, STOPPING down, she
caught the words of muttered
prayer: Jesus, Mary, Joseph! Jesus
Mary, Joseph The words seemed
te