The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1914-12-12
Continued from Page 81
IN TROUBLED WATERS.

out or me-doctor, perhaps. But I
was too wise-all boys are-and l
chose to grow up with the fresh chips,
oakum and tarry ropes. !. I wasn't a
right out bad lad as / look back at
those days now, but was headstrong
and guess that's bad enough. And
] was a mighty good mechanic.
f Just before l was, of age / met
the girl was to marry-at a dance.
a poor place to pick, up life partner,
but you can't put an old head on
young shoulders. 1t would be mighty
queer world If people married just
as they ought-put that in your log,
lad. She was a nice girl and beauti-
full girl" he fingered over the words
as an artist over his canvas. "bu3
she wasn't Catholic. am afraid /
was only half a Catholic myself, iii
spite of my good rearing. And that's
bound to make perilous. navigating.
Why? Because how can one pick a
channel for another who doesn't know
the chart rightly himself? Father
recognized that from the start and
he tried to set me right, but tackled
and took another course. Somehow,
it seemed father and 1 were. always
running afoul of each other those days.
/ made up my mind I'd marry her
even If he didn't consent.
Our pastor was fine little French
Canadian priest-dead these many
years. Lord have mercy on his soul!
And when sought his advice l
thought at first he'd shanghai me. He
warped me lin all right. First he
argued with me in English, then in
French; which / didn't understand
enough to- be hurt, and then he mixed
the two. trying to- show me where 1
was wrong. He insisted on her tax.
ing instructions before we were mar.
ried. but she wouldn't listen to that.
Il tried the old yarn about waiting.
until we we're. settled down, but the
priest knew better. And by that time
Patience had me under her control
and knew I'd wind up by doing Just
as she dictated.
"Ah, God, but have repented bitter.
ly since of my. conduct towards my
parents during that foolish time! I've
leaned over the rail in the quiet watch
of the night and cried cried like a
child, wishing for one more chance TO
ask their forgiveness; I've laid on q.
raft on the ocean when the torment
of my conscience hurt worse than the.
fortunes of thirst and hunger. : It
seems that there hasn't been an hour
since that their sorrowful faces
haven't haunted me. Your conscience.
lad, never goes below-it is always
on watch. 81 80
7 He paused, and / pretended to listen
to the roar Of the elements. The DIM
features back In the bunk lit up occas
sionaily by the fitfnl glow OF his pipe
as. he drew on 1t, and the lines seemed
to have deepened in them. They had
grown gray, with the pai1or OF great
suffering. + feared he would not go
on.
We were married one night by al
justice of the peace, and no questions
were asked after presenting the IL
ceuseN would have been harder to
get a permit to keep a dog. You can
imagine how my good Catholic par.
ents felt. was too happy for a time
to know or care happy with that
foolish happiness that has the terrible
ending. / worked along in the yard
with father: somehow he seemed to
grow even more gentle and forbear.
ing with me, just. as if he had been
at fault in something and wanted to
make amends. His kindness began
to win on me finally; the crust of my
ignorance was wearing thin I named
our baby after him, and that seemed
to give him some hope for me.
And all the time 7 kept telling my.