The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1911-12-30

QGHLly @dtLSH6Q nlm, lot his manner
changed as he continued gently:
Michael, your cure il God Himself.
Come every morning and receive Him
In Holy Communion at the altar rail;
then, strengthened by His presence,
and bearing Him In your heart, go to-
your daily work II through frailty or
long force of habit you should fail,
come to me at once and. after con-
fession, start anew But''-and some
thing Of divine fire seemed to blaze"
in his eyes-''if you dare, with the
spirit of a scoffer, to pour down liquor
on that heart where He has rested,
Gods punishment will fall upon YOU"
The priests voice was vibrant with
feeling, and he lifted one hand in
warning as he spoke.
Railway raised his head, a strange
mixture of fear and admiration in his
face.
Father he said huskily, 4 am not
worthy of that cure do not dare
to try it,
The fire died out of Father Barry's
eyes. Michael, God trusts you;
trust you, and your brave wife, whose
prayers have brought you here, trusts
you. In Gods name, try il"
AS he spoke new light sprang
into the victims eyes. 4 will,
Father he said, firmly.
May God give you strength, them"
Father Barry answered, as he put out
his hand. Pathway wrung it earnestly
Il will keep my word" he said.
And he did. Every morning saw
him at the altar rail. 1t was a bitter
fight; only. God knows how bitter. For
the old comrades and the lights of the
tavern were never so alluring as now
Many day as he worked in the
ditch, his throat parched, his head
!. Whirling, he longed for the old,
familiar bar, and only the memory
of God in his heart kept him at his
post. The victory was not won in a
day, nor in many days, but, like a
| soldier bearing the standard of the
king and clarifying in his wounds, he
pressed on bravely, despite the suffer
| ing, and his endurance won in the end
! The first year of the trial had
passed, and looking in at the coy
little home, one would scarcely be-
| lieve it to be the same as that which
faced the heartbroken wife on the
first day of her novena. Poor it was
still, but spotless. A CHEEKY fire was
burning on the hearth, the table was
spread for the evening meal, and a
bright little kettle was boiling merrily
on the hob, as If singing a song to
/ itself.
Over the mantel hung the same pic
ture of the Sacred Heart, and husband
and wife were standing before it.
Railways arm was passed around her
shoulders and, undemonstratiV as she
knew him to be, the little gesture
meant much. Baby Michael left his
play and toddled to his fathers side.
! Awed by their silence, he raised his
big brown eyes to the picture.
4 rs it time to say good night, sweet
Jesus?" he whispered
The mother smiled through her
tears and folded the little hands in
her own.
/ Yes, my baby she answered
gently. "Kneel down by my side.
The child obeyed, and the sweet
words of his good night prayers fell
softly from his lips. And bless
mother and father. Amen" he ended.
Then he added in his serious baby
voice: And thank you, dear Jesus,
for making us SO happy"
Husband and wife looked at each
other, and the same thought sprang
into their minds, as with full hearts
they re-echoed the words Of their
little child.
l--MdrD Adilade Garnett. in the Canadian Mes
seagey or the Sacred Hear.