The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1914-04-11
Continued from Page3)
A METROPOLITAN EASTER.

A METROPOLITAN EASTER.
own country and her youth. She re-
called Palm Sunday in the time of the
Second Empire, when every one car
ried branches or wore sprigs of the
lockwood that served as rameaux or
buis benit. She remembered not only
the splendid bouquets of Eastertide,
but the Easter eggs, that had pleased
her even more. All, now again she
was looking into the shop windows of
the Maison Boissier, on the Boule-
ward des Italien; the Maison Groux,
of the Boulevard des Capucines; the
Maison Siraud, in the Rue de Ia Paix;
the great toy shop of Les Enfanta
Sages, in the Passage Jouffroy. Here
were eggs that were but the caskets
for jewels of fabulous worth, eggs in
faience, in terra Gotta, artists eggs
modelled by no less a genius than Sal
Wait of Venice, toy and downright
comical eggs. How many well-known
pictures, too, were prettily parodied.
Mignon regrets the land of the citron
no more; she holds a basket of eggs
and is as happy as the birds in May.
Greuze's disconsolate damsel has
thrown away her broken pitcher and,
drying her eyes, dimples into smiles
over a large egg. Gretchen sings the
spinning song or pulls her flowers to
pieces snugly ensconced in the center
nf
Easter fishes, the poissin d. Avril, in
chocolate, in lace, in porcelain, in
brooches and geegaws. All, those
were days when Easter was not only
happy, but merry. But now? The
dreamer came to herself with a start.
What folly to waste time in idle remi-
niscence! Was she not thoroughly
contented with her little menage, her
tranquil life?
Once more she reverted to her
Homecoming this afternoon. She saw
the fower-decked windows of the St.
Cloud and the one small plant OF
hyacinths on the sill of the Stauntons
apartment.
"The child bought it to cheer he1
father, but it looks vertically forlorn in
contrast with all those Haunting
blooms" soliloquized mademoiselle
And he, poor man, what is that he
says? Easter is not for him; he has
no part in it's joy; lie bon Dieu has
forgotten him! Truly, 1 fear, &C
monsieur la has forgotten lie Dor
Dieu."
Mademoiselle was wise. Not even
to the gallant old chevalier would she
venture to recall, save by the little
message of the lace-bordered picture
the obligations of the Paschal time
But might there not be some other
way to reach the heart of the invalid
to quicken the faith, the hope of a
spirit plunged in the death of the
melancholia that is so closely akin to
despair?
AS she reflected her eyes rested
upon the lily, fair and tall, her pre-
cious Easter gift, the one beautiful
object that linked her humdrum
present life with the happiness, the
poetry, the dreams of the past
mot this, not this" she exclaimed
81 will go out and buy larger plant,
one that shall be even handsomer, if
such can be found"
"Christ gave Himself for us; there
fore our joy must be in giving
She felt as if some one had spoken
the words aloud. How could anything
that would cost only money carry Sc
uplifting message as the lily, whose
golden heart would hide a sweet re.
nunciation? A trifing sacrifice, one
might say; but it was not trifing to
mademoiselle.
Resolutely she detached from the
green stalk the card of congratulation
and put it carefully away in her writ.
ing-desk. Then, without trusting her.
self to loiter, she took up the plant in
it's jardiniere of white crepe paper
and started down the stairs.
Mademoiselle was not destined, how.
ever, to quietly accomplish her kind
little plan.
On the landing she encountered her
neighbors, the widow and daughter
They we're strangers to the reserved
French woman, but NOW the beauty OF
the flowers evoked from the younger
lady an expression of admiration.
How lovely! Oh, mademoiselle,
what are you going to do with them?''
The unexpected salutation found her
without an evasive answer, and with
simplicity she told her errand.
The girls rather disconnected face
frightened with sympathetic under.
standing, and she looked lingeringly
after the lily borne on it's triumphal
way.
A knock at the Stanton fiat, a
Querulous, Come" called from within,