The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1918-01-12
The Fisherman's Will.


cottages perched upon the cliff, with
sand-dunes all about as far as the
eye could reach.
Being so close to the sea, it is
hardly necessary to add that it was
a village of Observation-Disclosures and
Bretons: sea-faring and God-fearing
men-of whom their cure spoke with
pride: "My parishioners are always
at the post of duty. At sea they
are on their feet; in the church
they are on their knees The call
of the sea was in their ears from the
day of their birth, and from father
to son for generations they took
to the boats as their profession, just
as the young gulls left their nest
for the waves of the sea.
Sea-birds one and all. Nay: there
was an exception, boy of eighteen
who could soon have qualified to
take his fathers place as master of
their own boat, had not a call from
heaven sounded louder, more insist
emily even than the call of the sea
III Ills cars. al IlESI Hc uIu nOI
understand the vague discomfort that
filled his soul, the feeling that God
had given him life and intelligence
for something better than being a
master mariner. But through long
days and long nights out ON the
open sea, with nothing between the
fishing boat and the immense vault
of heaven, it came gradually to the
boy that it was divine discomfort
a call to follow SO many of his
countrymen into the service of the
Church, to work his way as a priest
of God to the eternal reward of
Heaven.
His people had never thought of
heir, his hope and his pride, and
at first the hardy mariner hardly
grasped the meaning of the boys
words.
"You are not satisfied with your
life?" asked the old man incredu-
lousy. you want more than this?'
and his eyes rested lovingly on his
cherished fishing-boat, whilst he point
ed to the whole fair scene around.
And very fair it was, with the sum
shine playing on the village, glinting
on the great wide stretch of sea,
and even lighting the grey granite
of the old church round which the
houses lay. Below them, foremost
amongst the fishing fleet lay the
"Marie-Anne," their own boat, and
the master-mariner's voice was scarce
ly steady when he questioned his boy
again, though now he understood that
magnet stronger even than the
"Marie-Anne" was drawing the lad
away.
"Are you sure you want something
better than this? Better than what
you will have of your own when
| am gomez" He did not deny that
Jeannot's choice was better, and be-
yond making sure he put no obstacle
in the path of his son; SO that three
months later Jean, the fisherman's son,
had become a student in the Ecclesias-
teal College from which after seven
years he came forth a priest of God.
His comrades had nicknamed him
Jean the Fisherman 1t came to
the Bishops ears, and he referred
to it when sending the young priest
to his first mission: Go back to
the Landes, my son" he said; cast
your nets again, but row what you
catch will be for God.
And so Jean went Lack to his be-
loved sea, in village not far from
home, to begin his ministry. The
parish was large and struggling, and
often in his wanderings he came
across those who had once been his
school companions, his childhood's
friends.
They were proud of him, these
men to whose race he belonged; and
if he passed by a group of fisher
folk, stopping for word with one
or another, they would follow him
with their eyes, in his black soutane,
his breviary in his hand, and say to
each other:
There goes one of ourselves. The
right sort; afraid Of nothing, under
standing our joys and our troubles.
Why, even in all this misery around
us now he never thinks of himself.
Where poverty and sickness are at
their worst. there you may be sure
our Able will be found.
And SO it was that day-in, day-out,
he had no time to rest because of
the sickness in his parish and of the
poverty that caused it. Bad weather
had ruined the home fisheries that
year, and the hopes founded on the
season off the Newfoundland coast
were all that stood between starva-
ton and many homes. Then when
the boats were gone, carrying off
every able-bodied man, fever swept
over the homes, where old folk and
women and little children were the
only victims it could find.
But these it did not spare. In one
week the Able had a funeral service
every day, and the rest OF his time
was spent passing from house to
house. trying to carry comfort, both
spiritual and temporal, to ravaged
homes and stricken desolate souls