The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1917-06-16
The Procession Of Corpus
Christi.


daisies, doWny dandelion heads and
rosy balls of clover, the gray par
fridge, brooding over her eggs,
trembled to hear, from beyond the
hill, a heavy growl like the roll of
distant thunder
simultaneously, thrush in the alp
pie orchard of neighboring farm,
opened his beak, but from it failed to
come like joyous trill wherewith the
is won't to- announce ripe cherries and
fine weather The note he flung forth.
plaintive as a moan, foretold rain: J.
and almost at once a nightingale an
swered it with the call like a frogs
croaking, that he summons from his
fine throat at the approach of a storm.
Trembling, the partridge settled
down closer upon her eggs. Before,
behind and all around her, covering
he~ with their cool shade, bent deli
ca-c stems, nearly white close to the
ground, green farther up, then lighter
at their tips Some ants were run
ming about at the edges of her nest
followed out in the ground and lined
with dry leaves. Through the net
work of grasses she could see the
roofs of the village, red against the
green of the fields, bend of the
river, broken into thousand ripples,
ablaze in the sun and spring sky,
low in cloudy distance where the
swallows were circling.
"A STORM" thought the partridge.
What will become of us, poor, nest
ing birds?" She knew that in all the
tangles, burrows and woodland thick
cts, beneath old walls and on the very
|stree tops hundreds of little winged
creatures were as frightened as she
about their eggs just ready to hatch.
The blue flash of kingfisher shone
among the reeds and willows of the
shore. The bird was hurrying to its
hole in the shelving bank, Uttered
about with fish-bones. Near the mo-
tionless partridge arose a sound like
a grind or rafting. 1t was the rustic
of the broom, which runs and races
over the fields, slender and in garb
of isabella hue.
May heaven protect us!" murmur-
ed he. And on all sides anguished
voices echoed the prayer. The lark
and the quail in the green wheat, the
chattering tom-tit from the reeds,
the linnet, the goldfinch, the chaffinch
in the village orchard, the thrush that
lays such lovely blue eggs, spotted
with black, and the oriole, whose
| cradle nest, suspended by slender
threads, swings from the high poplar
boughs and is gently caressed by the
| breeze. The clouds, cottony masses
Of yellow-White, were taking on every
minute tones of gray, then tints OF
slate. They enlarged, drew apart and
united again. The confused mass GOV
ering a quarter of the sky, leafy
chaos of purplish yapors.
The chorus of timid voices cried
without ceasing, "The Lord will pro
tect u.s."
| A large, dark bird swooped dowI
| to the ground in the center of the
meadow and said squarely: HE viii
protect us!
It was a very aged maybe, talka
/ tive, busting, full of her own i'm
| portance. She was listened to as al
! oracle because she had lived long an(
| nestled for years in the garden o
| the mayor, Monsieur Limason, the
/ general counsellor of the village Ii
view of this she claimed to know al
| the local news and even the secret:
| of politicians.
/ why do you plead with Him fol
| protection?" she inquired of her silen
audience. ''The men of the valley
break His law and blaspheme Hi
name See how He has treated III
/ since impiety became triumphant il
this region The seasons are topsy
| turvy, the rivers overflow, frost o.
hail destroys our crops, or hurricane!
unroof houses, sweeping them ava,
like chaff; floods of rain turn oul
fields into marshes; the caterpillar:
attack the apple trees, black-rot eat:
| the vines, the ink-disease threaten!
| the oaks and chestnuts.
1 "And all the birds are dying!" pur
sued the green maybe, with sigh
clinging the while to the dead trunl
| of an old willow. 1T is not enough
to have our usual foes-the carnivora
the birds of prey and reptiles. Sprins
i rains destroy our broods; lingering
frosts kill our migrating cousins, WHIT
i leave the South too early. The mile
fails and the pulpy flesh of fruit
Happy are they who live, as do
upon larvae and insects!"
/ "How long have we had these
calamities?" inquired small wag
i tail
Ever since the good God ceased tt
i pass through our fields in blessing,
i said the ancient magpie. Ever sine,
i Monsieur, the mayor, and his council
suppressed our processions-in orde
not to disturb the turkeys, ducks ant
chickens which frequent the villag,
/ square! The people here live NOR,
i like pagans. The patience of God viii
i yield to His justice. The summer viii
not pass without some disaster"
/ The brooding mothers, pressin:
! tenderly upon their warm eggs, vi
i tered dismal means. But a swallow
i tired of the lowering sky, paused ii
| his whirling to rest and say to tn,
4 maybe with youthful audacity, "Wh,
Il told you, madam, that there woul'