Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1912-03-02

prayer.
Father Bernardo was much loved by
the peasants. When any were in
trouble, they went to the good father
for comfort. When any needed advice,
they sought counsel of Father Bern
ardo.
Good father" they often said to the
old man, ARE you not lonely? Leave
your hills and come down to live with
us in the plain
Lonely" laughed the old man,
Il am never lonely. God Is always
with me, and then I have my two
daughters"
"Who are your two daughters,
father?'
Here is one," and the old man
pointed upward to a noble oak that
sheltered his tiny hut with it's spread
ing branches.
This is my dumb daughter; my
other daughter can chatter we'll. She
is Mary, the vinedresser's child.
Every day she does something for my
comfort. Never was man so blest in
his children
The peasants smiled They knew
the sweet Mary well. They knew her
kind heart and her quick step. But
the oak tree daughter puzzled them
To the hermit, however, his tree
was dear companion. She stretched
her branches lovingly over his hut;
her leaves whispered grateful mes.
sages in his ear; she was a comfort
yh01
too, lived the birds whom the good
father fed daily at his door.
Once some men with axes passed
that way. They stopped before the
oak and said, Here is fine large
tree. This would suit the duke we'll
Father Bernardo fell on his knees.
spare my tree, pray you, good peo.
pie. She is as dear as my hearts
blood. She is as dear as daughter"
The men laughed at the old man,
but they passed on. Not once, but
twice and even thrice Father Bernardo
saved the life of his dumb daughter.
At last there came a terrible win.
ter. Tempest uprotted trees and de-.
stroyed houses. Freshets rushed down
the hillsides, sweeping all before them.
One night there came fearful
storm. Mary trembled in her bed and
offered prayers for the safety of the
old hermit.
Father Bernardo's hut is so frail
that 1 fear he must have perished,"
she said to her father the next morn
ing. Let us hasten to him without
delay" But three days passed before
the storm abated.
AS they drew near the abode of the
hermit, father and daughter uttered
a cry. The hut had disappeared.
Mary burst into tears, but her
father suddenly seized her arm.
Look" he cried. A hand was
waved from the oak tree, and voice
said family, do not fear for me,
friends; my dumb daughter has saved
my life.'
Seated by the bright fire in the
vinedresser's home, the old man told
his story.
"When the freshet came, climbed
to the roof of my hut. But I soon
and higher rose the water. More and
more did the weak hut tremble be-
meath the rush of the waters. Soon it
would be carried away. I fell upon
my knees. % God,' cried, save mel
GAS I opened my eyes I saw bend
ing toward me, nay, stretched out to-
ward me, the arms of my tree daugh-
ter. This is the answer to your
prayer she seemed to say. Immedi-
ately I was safe in her branches.
"There I stayed for three days. ate
some crusts of bread had in my
pocket, and waited. knew my daugh-
ter, Mary, would seek me and take me
to her home as she has done.'
Then the good father bowed his
head and blessed his two daughters
aloud. II pray Cod" he said, that
they may be immortalized together"
Years passed. The old hermit died.
The oak tree was cut down and made
into wine casks. Mary married and
became the mother of two beautiful
boys.
Often she recalled the Father Bern
ardo's prayer. perhaps these boys
of mine may bring me renown,' she
thought. Her belief grew stronger
every time she looked into their
lovely, rosy faces.
One warm day Mary sat at her cot
tage door. The younger boy, tired Of
play, had Struggled into his mothers
arms. The elder had been trying to
fasten two sticks into the shape Of
cross. He had just succeeded. and
came proudly to show his work to his
mother. What a sweet group the
mother and children made!
So thought a dark-eyed. pensive
young man who drew near. He looked
weary and sad, for beautiful dream
picture haunted his thoughts. In vain
had he roamed the country seeking
to find in flesh and blood his dream
picture.
Suddenly he saw it in the cottage
doorway. Quick, he must sketch it!
He had his pencil, but no paper.
To- here was wine cask! It's
smooth cover would answer. Rapidly
the soft outlines of Mary and her
babes appeared on the round top of
the cask