The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1912-10-12
Come and say goodbye, niece Joyce

Come and say goodbye, niece Joyce,
he said, and led her to the priest.
God give His angels charge over
thee, little Joyce said Father Hall,
huskily. He stood looking after the
carriage until it turned the corner
where the road runs in behind the
hill-then he walked slowly into the
church and knelt for space at the
altar-rail, while he commended the
dead mother and the living child to
the guardianship of the Holy Angels.
1t was his pet devotion. Frequently
he referred to the Angels Guardian
as the forgotten friends of men, and
in season and out of season he sought
to impress the memory of the blessed
spirits of his flock committed to his
care.
John Olliver's house was. hand
some, though somewhat gloomy, resi-
dence in North London, and faced
chapel noted for it's Calvinistic tend
encies and ultra-Protestant tone.
Joyce was taken there solemnly every
Sunday by her uncle, and in due
course she was entered at the Sunday
school, She grew up to be very
beautiful girl, with her mothers deep
dark curly hair of the Ollivers. John
oliver was proud of her as she knelt
beside him in the red-cushioned pew
of his favorite chapel, or shared his
hymn book with her when it was
time for them to sing. There were
some wonderful days when he arose
and went to the platform to address
the congregation, and Joyce sat with
puckered brows trying to follow the
hard, dry doctrine that he endeavored
to instiH into his hearers. When she
was seventeen she began to think for
herself, and then John oliver was
often hard put to it to answer her
questions.
But you said that we must think
for ourselves, uncle" she said little
helplessly once, when he had been
more than usually dogmatic. "You
are as bad as the Pope. You won't
let me believe what I think is right -
He started.
What do you know about the
Pope?' he questioned.
| Joyce hesitated.
mot much, uncle-only what you
have told me. You said that he en-
shaved men, and would not permit
them to think for themselves
that-he wanted to lay down the law
for all his followers. I don't see it,
uncle-you do the same thing your
SELF"
"Yes, but, Joyce, the thing is diff
ferent-the Pope is a Catholic, and
Catholics are superstitious idolators---
that alters the case; if he taught the
| \ lr,%
Joyce thought for long while.
Its all very hard to understand,
uncle" she said absently, "and you
may be wrong and the Pope right,
after ALL
"Joyce!"
Il didn't say that you were wrong,
she said, and threw one arm around
his neck in the fashion that he could
not resist A new realization of her
beauty came to him, and with dream
that he had had for her future.
You are getting quite grown up
he said, after a silence What shall
do when you go away and leave
me?"
She flushed little
81 wanted to talk to you about that,
she said, and there was catch in her
voice. Il should like to be nurse
uncle. / think nurses can do so much
good. Next year l shall be eighteen
and then l shall be old enough to
start training
"a nurse! There will be no neces
sity for you to work, Joyce. Listen
child-it is time that told you some.
thing of your history. Your father and
/ eli
in all to each other until we met
Joyce-your mother. We both wished
to marry her. She preferred him, and
so | stood aside. Even when poor
Charles died would not intrude upon
her, for / loved her too well. Then
for some inscrutable reason, because
she was lonely perhaps, she embraced
the Catholic faith"
my mother! How awful" He
drew her to him tenderly.
mot awful, dear child, because
! felt sure that she thought she did
right. I suppose that she was happy
in her belief don't know-but she
died Catholic and even had you
baptized so.''
i "Me? Am a Catholic, then uncle?'
God forbid" he exclaimed, so en-
ergetically that she started from his
embrace.
'I don't understand she said, with
a puzzled frown settling between hel
eyes. He smiled.
No, Joyce. rescued you from
bondage, child. You are a free Pro
testant-a child of God. He hat1
given His angels charge-'" he be
. gan and stopped. Memory had com,
suddenly to him. It was the parting
blessing of Father Hall to the mother
less child that he was quoting. How
strange that it should have occurred
to him just then. She had notices