The Washington herald., 1921-10-09

And homev.rd the placid little cure vouid
have gone. only the arrival Of the steamer
bu~slitne at the landing warned him that hs
might stilI again be thrown IN with his en-
emies. returning from Chamboro and now
sending the notes of their nfe and drum
echoing across the quiet river to Point aux
Trembles. So he tarried along the upper
river bank, shelterinE himself discreesly BE-
hind little clump Of elderberry bushes. un-
I'll. as he hoped. they would march on un-
seeing and unheedins.
But this the returning reyelers showed no
disposition to do.
They were dusty and heated and foot,
sore The evening was suitry. and the gentle
tapping Of the water on the pebbly shore
was a. seductive as the song Of a thousand
sirens. A hat was nung into the water. fol.
lowed by q scufne along the shallow And
II was then and there proposed that they
all 70 in for . swim
Five minutes later they had made their
way up stream. and had taken possession
OF old Pierre Fiscet's squat little tile scou.
They wrenched open the padIocked door of
the cabin and promptly disrobed, leaving
the good Pierres mess table more like an
untidy clothieris counter than a place OF re-
fection. And 1--WE minutes after that again
they reappeared in the gathering dusk, taking
TO the soothing waters with calls and shouts
Of laughter, swimming and wadinE and
padding out to Egg Island, where the tran
ouil I.iz0ffe fbraehad
snd splattered into the sssemblance Of many
miniature maelstroms
And all might have gone well had not old
Pierre Fiscet, himself drawn forth by tn.
uproar, come down 10 the river bank 10
reconnoitre. There he quietly. but indignant.
ly released his invaded tile saow, and a.
quietly and all gpperceived let it float down
the stream until it was lost beyond the
bends and twists Of that sinuous little river.
In vain the cure waved and called after
along the bank. over fences and through
bushes. until he had lost both his string Of
hsh and his breath. Night had come on by
this time, and a crisp GOODNESS had crept into
the air. He saw that the only thing to do
was to turn back. With a heavy and
troubled heart the kindly little cure retraced
his steps to the scene of that riverside mis-
adventure.
The sight that met his eyes as he peered
spprehensively through the tangled under.
brush was a strange one 1t was that Of siI
and thirty pale and sdamic figures. huddled
together in the dim starlight. One further
fact also forced itself on the attention OF the
silent onlooker. The great golden frinEed
banner OF William Of Orange had been care
fully torn into strips. some three dozen OF
them. each piece serving attenuated
girdle for that band which. earlier in the
day. had marched so bHthely behind the
rampant white charger between It's painted
poles. The little cure even imagined tha;
he heard the chattering OF teeth. He was
sure that one Of the fife boys. the youngest
member Of that detected gathering, was
weeping aloud
Now, much indeed. would like 20 be able
to relate in this narrative, which flows DO
more briskly than the Lizotte itself, that
the good cure Of Sancerre like the Samaritan
Of old rushed to the relief OF that chilled
and suffering hand, without so much as one
moment OF hesitation, without one jot Of
commiseration for his I'll starred enemies.
But Father PHILIPPE was not without his sad
enough sense OF humor. and IL must be regret
fully recorded that for an absent minded
second or two he peered appreciatively down
like circle. For Father PHILIPPE was fond OF
his roses. and proud OF his garden. and as
attached to the dignity Of his little parish
as he was to the integrity Of his own indH-
ferently youthful bones. And his kneecap
was still painful 10 the touch and his two
finest Comtesse dc MWriHois rose bushes were
no more.
So t'-- little cure. being compounded Of
human clay, being, after all. only made W
Of the frail and wayward stuff OF mortality.
fought a brief but silent duel with himself
there among the whispering eiderberry
bushes. But in the end his better nature
won. Although he krew his moment Of hest
tation. although he experienced a period OF
inward and trrepressible mirth. he saw the
grim path Of duty and followed it.
There was no touch OF mockery in his
voice as he confronted that silent and sbashed
circle Of shtvering outcasts. There was no
trace Of laughter about his lips as he e1.
planned that the tile scow had been ferried
away and that it was only in Sancerre that
clothing might be found for them.
II was not q time for speech making from
either side So the little cure led them home
ward in silence, making his circuitous way