Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, July 29, 1894, Page 10

THE OMAHA RESUME OF LOURDES. Brief Synopsis of the Portion of Zolo's Great Has Been Published. IRST DAY. ; CHAPT] opening scene of_“Lourdes, hich was commenced in serial form in Sun- Bee of April 16, 18 In & car of the “white triin,” which carrdes the very mick pllgrims from’ Py des. Among the pilgrims is Marle do Gu W young woman, who, for years, has bec ridden, She Is_accompinied By her father and the Abbe Plerre Froment CHAPTER 11.-The Abbe Plerre was the son of a chemist who lived at Neullly. ~Living next them wers M. de Guersaint and his family. Little Marle de Guersaint and Plerre played together, and finally fell in love with each other an they grew up. Marle received an Injury which res Bulted in nearly total paralysis. As she could hever be his wite, Plorre became n priest CHAPTER [11.The suffering in the train js in- tense when It atops at Poitiers hal€ an hour or._Tunch, OEAITER 1v.—Sophle Coutean tella the story of ‘the eure nccorded to her dlseased foot by simply dipping 1t in the water of Lourdes. CRAPRR . ke "Abbe reads the history of Bernade and the visions in the oito. As (he train rolls into the station at fourdes "an ‘unknown man dlex. SECOND DAY. CHAPTER L—A vivid plcture is given of the confusion when the Invalids are landed and con- veyed to the hospi CHAPTER 11— The hospi greatly over- erowded, At 8 i, m. tho procession o the grotto starts. Father Massals asks the vast congregas Hon to pray for a great miracle, as the body of the man who died in the train is to be im- mersed in the pool in hopes that life will Le Festored CHAPTER 111 Dr. the p mersed. describes lhe Abbe mects his old friend, he crowd forces the Abbe to cad man ls brought in and im- cle occurs. On going out the Marie has been bathed without effect. CHAPTER 1V.—Dr. the Abbe, to the Bur Grivotte, Who had copaumption, - co am_cure: CHAPTER V.—The Abbe visits Marle, who Is losing her faith. He reads to the tnvalids, con- tinuing the story of Bernadetie. Sty THIRD DAY. CHAPTER L—Plerre discovers that Mme. Vol- mar, a devout pilgrim, has come to Lourdes to meet her lover. CHAPTER I1.—Pierre and M. meet Mme. Desagneaux, Mile! M. de Peyielonuiie, o Whom Raymonde gaged. They visit places of Interest. CHAPTER 11L.—Marfe, accompanied by her father and Picire, watches the magnificent torchlight' procession CHAPTER 1V. grotto to remai Buire shows Il accompanies La of % Chassalgne au of Certifications. in the last stages rushing In, shouting, de Guersaint Raymonde and is en- Plerre takes Marle to the throughout the night. Baron the miraculous spring. CHAPTER V.—Dr. Chassaigne tells about his snterview with Bernadette, and describes the efforts of the Abbe Peyramale to bulld a church at Lourdes. FOURTH DAY. CHAPTER I.—The death of Mme. “ylvidly portrayed. CHAPTER il.—There is great religlous fervor shown during the services. In the midst of it Brother Isidore dies. CHAPTER 1lL.—As Plerre stunds beside Marle’s cart he remembers that one of the hysicians called In consultation sald she could Bo”Cured in ' perfectly natural way. 'Suddenly Marfe stands up in her cart. She walks to the Bureau, and her cure Is put on record. CHAPTER IV.—Marie drags her cart in the procession. Pierre has lost his faith, and by his vows has lost the rght to love Maile now that she ean bé a wife. CHAPTER V.—Dr. Chassaigne takes the Abbe to Bernadétte’s room. He also takes him to the church that (he Abbe Peyramale siarted to bulld. The ambitions and dreams of the Abbe Peyramale are graphically described. “[FTH DAY. CHAPTER L—The abbe it too agitated to sleep during the last night of the pilgrimage. He nervously awaits the retyrn of M. de Guer- saint. from a plensura trip. Farly” in e morn, ing he ls summoned to the next room, to find already dead an old lady whose fortune woes to & crippled boy, who has been brought to Lourdes to be cured. The father regards the old lady's death as a divine recompense for the lack of miracle in healing the boy. Plerre meets Mme, Valmar in the hall | &_her lover's room, She confesses all to him. She has no sooner left than Marie appears, full of life and health, “Lourdes’ will be continued in next Sunday's Bee. CHAPTER IL—Marle 15 greatly the attention her cure has at With Plerre and her father she makes a finai visit to the grotto and buys souvenirs. The moniey making feature ot Lourdes disgusts the abbe. Vetu 18 annoyed by od to herself, CHAPTER IL—Continued. M. de Guersaint had become disgusted, Httle by little—the annoyance of a man who prides himself on his artistic tastes. Y “But this Is awful; it is awful, all this trash!” he repeated, as he examined each tresh article. © He comforted himself by recalling to Plerre the ruinous attempt he had made to revive good religlous paintings. The remains of his ‘fortune had been swallowed up in the business, and what made it even harder to bear was' this present sight of miserable things that now filled the shop. Had any one ever seen such hideous, stupid, preten- tious or complicated things for sale? The vulgar ideas and fearful expressions of the priests gave rise to a dispute in regard to their manufacture. They looked like fashion plates—like the tops of candy boxes or the ‘wax figures that grace a hairdresser’s win- dow. It was all a false art, horribly child- ish, without any human resemblance of sin- cerity. And once started the architect could not stop, but also gave his opinions as to the taste displayed in the buildings of the new Lourdes, the pitiable ugliness of the grotto, tho monstrosity of the colossal ram- parts, the disastrous proportions of the Church of the Rosary and the basilica—the latter far too heavy, looking like a corn ex- change, the former possessed of an anaemic slightness in building, without style an ille- gitimate In design. “Al, really,” he concluded, “‘one has to love God very truly to get sufficlent courage to adore Him in the midst of such horrors. They have spoiled everything, at their own will, without any promptings or true emotion, sincere faith or natural taste that promote masterpieces. They are all rogues and copy- ists; not one has given his body or his mind to It. And what other inspiration can they ask, it In this land of miracles they have been unable to conceive anything truly grana! Plorre did not answer, but he was sin- gularly struck by these reflections, and they explained to him at least the restiess sensa- tions he had cxperienced ever since he had arrived at Lourdes. This restlessness rose trom the discord between the modern life and the faith of past centuries, which they tried to resuscitate. He recalled many ancient cathedrals where the faith of a nation still yibrated, and he saw again all the old re- ligious customs, the pictures, the gold and sllver ware, the saints in wood and stone, all strong and beautiful in their splendid oxpressions. But that was long ago, when workmen belloved themselves, and gave their own flesh, body and soul, with all the fervor of thelr emotions, as M. de Guersaint had Just expressed it. But today architeets sim- ply built churches with the same practieal tranquility that they put into five-storled houses—in like manner all religious objects, rosarios, medals, statuettes, were made by the gross In the most crowded quarters of Paris, by unbelleving workmen. And what @ result of trash, of meretricious hardware, of awtul horrors, enough to make one weep over the ridiculous sentimentality that caused these things to be sold! . Lourdes was filled by those boys, ravaged, aisfigured to that degree that people of any decent or delicate taste were incommoded by thom as-they walked along the streets. It all went ugainst the attempted revival of ’ “logends, ceremonies and processions, of fli 'l“f ages, and Plerre realized all at once that this constituted the soclal and religious condemuation of Lourdes—that faith is for- @ver dead In the hearts of & nation when they neither practice It in the churches they construot nor by moans of the rosaries they anutacture! ™ Mario had continued to poke about in the ahop, Mke an impatient child, hesitating, and finding nothing that appeared to her worthy of the great ecstatic dream that she Intended to preserve. “‘Father, it is getting late. You must take mo back to the hospital. To end it up, I shall give this little medal to Blanche, look, with this silver chain. It s the simplest und prettiest thing I see. She can wear them, and it will be a little bit of Jewelry. As for me, I shall take this statuctte of Our Lady of Lourdes, the small one, that is 50 nicely painted. 1 shall put it in my room, and surround it with fresh flowers, Don't you think that will be nice?" M. de Guersaint approved of her selections, and tried to choose for himself: “‘Gracious, graclous, I am unable to decide.” He examined an ivory penholder, with an fvory ball at the end, about as large as a pea, in which were microscopic photographs As he locked into the tiny hole, he gave a ery of astonishment. *Hullo, the range of Gavarine! Ah! it is wonderful; it is all there; how can all that colossal range be held In this small place. T shall certainly take this penholder. It is funny, and will recall my excursion to the mountain: Plerre had simply selected a picture of Bernadette, a large photograph that shows her on her knees, in a black dress, a hand- Kkerchief tled over her hair, the only one, it is said, actually taken from life. He hurried to pay for all, and the three were Just leaving when Mme. Majeste came in and fnsisted that she must, absolutely must, give Marie a little gift, adding that it would bring luck to the household: “Here, miss, 1 beg you, take a scapular. Here, from among these! The Virgin, who has chosen you out, will surcly repay me or it by good luck.” e vatsod her voice so much that all the people, and the shop was full, turned, inter- ested, to gaze at the young girl with curious stares, Popularity once more commenced around her, as she finally reached the door, and the desire to see her even spread into the street, when the hostess went as far as the doorstep and made signs to the shop- keepers across the way to apprise them who Marie was, “Do let us go," repeated Marie, more and embarrassed. Mt her father held back still, as he per- celved a priest come into the shop. “Ah! Abbe des Hermolso It was indeed the beautiful abbe, in his fine soutane, smelling very good, his fresh face covered with tender gayety. ~He had not notlced his companion of the previous day, and had gone over quickly to Ap- poline, taking her aside, and Pierre over- heard him say to her in a low tone: “Why ald you fail to fetch me my three dozen rosaries this morning? Appoline commenced ouce more her tur- tle dove cooing laugh and looked up at him from beneath her eyellds maliciously with- out answering. “They are for my little penitents at Tou- touse. 1 wanted to put them in the bot- tom of my trunk, and you offered to help ma pack my things." Sh,:a still laughed, and glanced at him from the corner of her pretty eyes. “Now I shall not go till tomorrow. Fetch them to me tonight, won't you, as soon as you are free? It is at the end of the street, at Duchenes. The furnished room on the ground floor. Do be nice and come yourself.” With her pretty red lips she finally mur- mured In a joking way. so that he could not really tell whether she would keep her promise: “Certainly, abbe; I will come.” They were interrupted. M. de Guersaint had come forward to shake hands with the priest. At once they talked about the range of Garvine; what a delightful party it had been, those charming hours that he would never forget. Then they joked at the ex- pense of their two companions, two rather poor. ecclesiastics, whose Innocent ways had amused them immensely, The architect ended by reminding his new friend that he had promised to interest some man at Tou- louse, ten times a millionaire, in his plans for making balloons. “A first advance of 100,000 fancs will be sufficlent,” he sald. “Count on me,” declared the Abbe des Hermoises. “You have not prayed in vain to_the Holy Virgin.” Plerre, who had held in his hand the por- trait of Bernadette, was now struck by the extracrdinary likeness that Appoline had to tha seercss. It was the samec massive face, the rather large mouth, the same mag- nificent eyes; and he recollected thai Mme. Majeste had already told him of the singular resemblance, all the more alike as Appoline had passed just such a childhood at Bartres before her aunt took her to help her keep the shop. Bernadette! Appoline! ~ What a strange resemblance! What an unexpected reincarnation after more than thirty years. And now all ‘at once, in com- pany with the merry-hearted Appoline, who made private meetings, and about whom there circulated sowe very queer stories, the new Lourdes arose before his eyes—the coachman, the candle venders, the women who let rooms, accosting the arrivals at the hundred furnished rooms in discreet loca- tions; the crowd of unoccupled priests, the passionate members of the hospitality, the passershy, who merely came here to gratify their appetites. i To ‘these might be added the desire for grin that had been set loose by the rain of money; the entire town given over to the flthy lucre, shops changing the streets into veritable bazars, devouring one another; hotels subsisting from their profits from pilgrims, even to the Blue Sisters, with thelr table d'hote, and the fathers of the grotto, who made money out of their God! What a sad and fearful affair, the vision ot Berna- dette, so pure and lovely, belng the ciuse of moving all these crowds, causing them to ruzh after the illusion of happiness, bringing the river of gold which had percicatel every- thing ever since. It was enough for super- stition to breathe, to have humanity plunge into it, to have money brought, and this honest corner of the worll was corrupted forevermore. Where formerly the white city of candor flourished 10w grew the carnal rose, in that new garden of cupidity and enjoyment. Socem had been Lorn ot Bethlehem, since the day on which an in- nocent child had seen the Virgin. “well! what did I tell you?" cried Mm Majeste, when she pe that Pie 11 was comparing her niece with Nernadette’s portrait. “Appoline loois exactly like her. The girl approached with her friendly smile, flattered at first by the comparison. “Let us look, let us Jook,” sall Abbe dvs Hermolses, with an afr of great interest. He took the photograph, compared it in turn, and was astonished. “It is prodigious. The had not remarked it before. same features, I I am truly de- finally said Appoline, “I do think her nose very much thicker." Then the abbe gave a cry of admiration. “Olb, you are much pretticr, very much prettier; that is plain. But that makes no matter, one would take you for two sis- ters," Plerre could not help laughing, he thought the word so strange. Ah, poor Bernadette was really dead, and she had no sister. She could not live again, it was no longer pos- sible in this surging country of passion created by her. Marls had finally gone off on her father's arm, and it was agreed that they should both go to foteh her au the hospital, to be together at the station. More than fifty per- sons were waiting in cestacy in the street They bowed to her, followed her, and on woman made her crippled child touch Marie's dress, a child just brought back from the grotto. CHAPTER 1IL Ever since half past 10 the white train that was to leave Lourdes at twenty minutes of 4 had stood opposite the station, along the sccond platform, It had been shunted on & side frack for thres days, made up just it had arrived from Paris, and when it was brought back to the station white flags floated on the railway carriages at the end and up forward to mark it for the pilgrims, to whom the ordinary departure was & Lehg and very. laborious undertaking. Desides, the fourteen other trains of ths national pil- grimage were also to start om the same day. At 10 in the morning the green trafn had gone, then the pink train, then the yel- low one, and after the white train would follow the others—the orange, the gray and the blue. It was another terrible day for all the corps of employes about the station —a perfect Jam of tumult that overwhelmed trem But the great point of interest was always the departure of the white train, for it car- ried away the poor invalids who had been brought, among which were, of course, the beloved of the Holy Virgin—the elect ones cured by a miracle, S0 a great throng gath- ered under the marquee and obstructed the immense covered walk, about a hundred yards long. Every bench was occupled and encumbered by pilgrims and their parcels, who were already waiting to go. At one end the small tables from the lunch room had been carried out forcibly, and men wera drinking beer, while the women were served with soda lemonade; and fn front of the door of the messenger's office, at the othe: end, the stretcher bearars kept the way clear to aid the rapid transportation of the Invalids who might soon arrive. There 8 a ceaseless marching up and down the long platform, an incessant promenade of poo startled looking people, from priests run- ning, to men in their frock coats, curious and peaceful enough, a most mixed crowd, the most motley assemblage ever collected in a railway station. At 2 o'clock Baron Suire was there, very uneasy because there were mot enough horses, for an unexpected arrival of tourists had hired all the carriages to go to Bareg s, Canterets and Gavarine. He precipitated himself on Berthaud and Gerard, who finally appeared, having run over the entire town to get some horses, but everything was going on well, they said; they had se- cured the necessary animals, and ths t portation of the invalids would be done un der excellent arrangements. _ Already in the court yard the equipment of litter bearers, with their stretchers and bath chalrs, were huddled up against big wagons and vehicles of every sort, recruited for the departure from the hospital. A reserve of mattresses and cushions were heaped at the foot of one of the lamp posts. Then, as the first in- valids put In an appearance Baron Suire again lost his head, while Berthaud and Gerard hastened to go out on the platform from which the train would start. They superintended and gave orders in the midst of the growing crowd. It was on this platform that Father Four- cade, who was walking down the whole length of the train on the arm of Father Massais, stopped when he saw Dr. Bonamy coming. ““Ah, doctor, T am very glad. Father Mas- sais, who is just going off, has been telling me of the extraordinary favor which the Holy Virgin has shown toward that interesting young lady, Mile. Marie de Guersaint. It is years since so wondrous a miracle has taken Dlace. It is a preclous sign to us all—a blessing that should nourish the fruit of our efforts. All Christendom will be enlightened, enriched and consoled by it.” He beamed with happiness, and imme- diately the doctor, with his shaven face, with its peaceful, big features and round, lazy eyes, likewise exulted. “It is prodigious, prodigious, my reverend father! T shall write a pamphlet about it. No cure was ever so clearly accomplished by su- pernatural means! Oh, what a commotion it will make!” Then, as all three commenced to walk, he perceived that Father Fourcade dragged his leg more than ever and leancd very heavily upon his companion’s arm. “Is your attack of fever mo reverend father?” he asked. suffer greatly.” +0h, do not speak of it; T could not close my eyes all night. What makes it so much more troublesoms is, this attack only seized me the very day I arrived here. T might as well have waited. There {s nothing to be done, 50 do not let us talk about it. Iam de- lighted with the results of this year.” “Yes, yes," said Father Massais in turn. with a voice trembling with fervor. “We may be proud. We may go home with hearts overflowing with enghusiasm and gratitude. Besldes this young girl there have heen other marvels, The miracles have be>n Without num« ber—deaf and dumb have been cured, faces covered with sores have becom: ns smooth a8 my hand, wh'le dy.ng consumpt ves are now eating, dancing, quite restored! It will no longer be a_train of invalids, but a train of those raised from the dea of glory that I take away with’me: He no longer saw the wretches that sur- rounded him, but was off in full and divine triumph in the blindness of his faith. All three continued their slow promenade along the carriages, whose compartments were be- ginning to fill, smiling back at the pilgrims who bowed, and stopped sometimes to say & kind word to some sad woman who passed, pale and trembling, in a litter, They always said the patient looked much better and was sure to get well. The station master, very busy, passed them, crying in a shrill voice: “Do not block the platform. Keep the platform clear.” Then as Berthaud observed that he had to put doyn the stretchers before the inva- lids could” get into the carrlages he became angry. “Look here! Is that right? Look over there, that little wagon left right across the line! I expect the train from Toulouse in & few minutes. Do you wish to, see your people crushed?” And he ran off to place official servants to keep the tracks clear from the flocks of frightened pllgrims, who walked anywhere and everywhere. Many of the old and sim- ple ones did not even recognize the color of their train, and that was the reason they all wore around their necks cards of a corre- sponding color, so that they might be di- rected and put in the train, like some goods marked and paid for. But what a continual watchfulness it occasioned! Those fourteen supplementary trains to start away without stopping the circulation of ordinary travel! Plerre, who had arrived with his valise in his hand, had some difficulty In reaching the platform. He was alone, as Marle had sig- nified an ardent wish to kneel once more at the grotto, in order that up to the very last moment her heart might be filled with grati- tude before the Holy Virgin. So he had left M. de Guersaint to take her there, while hc seftled at the hotel. At any rate, as he had made them promise to take a cab they would surely be at the station in fiteen minutes. While he was waiting for them to be through he would go and find their carriage and put his valise in it. But that was not easy, and he only recognized it finally by the placard that had hung on the door for the past three days, in fine and stormy weather, a thick piece of paper, bearing the names of Mme. de Jonquiere, Sister Hyacinthe and Sis- ter Claire des Anges. It was the compart- ment, and he thought he again saw it filled, as he recollected it had been by his traveling companions, the cushions already showing where Monsleur Sabathier was to sit, while upon the very bench where Marle —had suffered so greatly he found a dent in the wood, made by the iron part of the cart. When he put dewn his valise he stood on the platform, walting patiently, and rather sur- prised not to find Dr. Chassaigne, who had promised to come and see him off. Now that Marle was ahout Plerre had taken off the stretcher bearer's straps he had worn, and he had only the little red cross of the pillgrimage on his soutane. The station, hitherto scen only in the wretched morning light on the day of their terrible and painful arrival, now surprised him by its vast plat- forms, large accommodations and bright gay- ety. One could not see the mountains, but on the other side, opposite the walting rooms, the green hills rose in a delicious, charming way. And on that afternoon the weather was perfectly lovely and soft, down-like looking clonds velled the sun in a sky that was milk white, like a fine dust of powdered pearls! It was real young ladies weather, the peas- ants said. A It had not yet struck 3, and as Plerre was looking at the big clock he saw Mme. Desagneaux and Mme. Volmar arriving, who were followed by Mme. de Jonquiere and her daughter. These ladies had come from the hospital in a landau, and were also looking at once for thelr rallway carriage. Raymonde \Was the first to recognize their first-class compartment In which they had come “Mamma, mamma, this way, here it ls! Do stay with us awhile. You have plenty ot time to go and arrange your invalids, for none of them have come yet." Then Plerre found himself face to face with Mme. Volmar. Their eyes met, but he Qid not recognise her, while she merely closed her eyes. Again she was the woman drossed In black—slow, Indolent, with a de- sire for concealment, happy ta disappear. The light in her eyes was dead, and only vevived occasionally, lke a spark beneath the vell of indifference, the black shadow that seemed to extinguish them Ob, such an_awfal headachel” she re- eated to Mme, Desagneaux. “You see, my Boor head is not right yet. The journey aggravated, ou seem to | wick T was! OR, ‘awful sick! | the ladles wives it to have it." More cheery, more pink, more dishevelled than ever, the .obher friend fidgeted about. “Well, my dear, just now I have as bad a headache a4, you can have! Yes, I felt it this | morning-—a._ head-splitting neuralgla only’ She leaned Forivdrd and continned 1n a low volee “Only T reftly #hink it's all right. Yos, that baby that [ want so dreadfully, but that will never apper;” T besought the Holy Vir- gin, and this' motning when I woke how At last I have my husband's Won't rfh ., Every year 1 am sure to all the signss: Gan't you ¢ face when he-moets me at Trouville, he be ha ¥ Mme. Volmar iistened to 1t all very seri- ously and then,said, with her quist air “Well, my dear, k know some one who did not want to have any more children. She came here, and since then none have ap- peare Gerard and Berthaud had Just and hastened to join them. morning the two men had gone to the pital of Our Lady of Sorrow, where they had been received by Mme. Jonquiere in a small office near the linen room. There, all in_proper form, and excusing himself with smiling good Kumor for such an apparent haste, Berthaud had demanded the hand of Miss Raymonde for his cousin G.rard. In- stantly every one felt at case. The mother being somewhat overcome, saying that Lourdes would bring good luck to the young couple. So the marriage was arranged in but a few words, In the midst of general satis- faction. They had even agreed to mect again on September 15 at the Chatcau de Berneville, near Caen, a property belonging to the uncle, the diplomat, whom Berthaud knew, and to whose house ho promised to fetch Gerard, Then, calling Raymonde, who had blushed with pleasure, he placed her two little hands In those of her betrothed hus- band. The latter was now very attentive, asking the young girl: “Do you want some pillows for tonight? Pleuse do not be uncomfortable. I can give you plenty, and also to these ladies you are with.” . Raymonde gayly refused: “No, no; we are not such tender crea- You must keep them for the poor in- perceived That hos- tures. valids,"” The other ladies were all talking at the same time. Mme. do Jonquiere declared that she was o tired, so tired that she was scarcely alive; yet she seemed to be very happy, as she gazed with smiling looks over at her daughter and the young msan as they talked together. But Berthaud could not remain there, for his duties called him, as well as Gerard, too, They both said goodby, aftcr reminding them of the meeting. Was it not the 15th of Sep- tember? Ah! the Chateau de Berneville? Yes, yes; it was all quite understood! And than “there was more laughter and hand- shakings, while their eyes glanced their caresses and tender, meanings- that might not be spoken out loud before all this erowd “What!" cried little Mme. Desagneaux, “are you going on the 15th to Berneville? If we stay at Trouville till the 20th, as my husband wants to, we will go over and see you.” She turned to Mme. Volmar, who was si- lent. “You must come, too. It would be such fun to be there all together.” But the young woman made a slow ges- ture, as she answered in her lazy, indiffer- ent manner: ““Oh! it is all over for me, any fun. T must go home." Again her eyes sought those of Pierre, who had remained hear them, and he fancied he saw ber look troubled for a second, while an expression of indescribable suffering passed over her death-like looking face. The sisters of the ‘Assumption now arrived, and the ladies join:d them in front of the canteen van. ‘Ferrdnd, who had come in the cab with the ‘nuns, got in first, and then helped Sister Saint-Francois to climb up the high step, and’ he stood on the sill of the door of the van that was transformed into a Kitchen, where. rhignt he found the pro- vislons for the journey—bread, soup, milk and chocolate; ‘whereas' Sister Hyacinthe and Sister Claire dés’ Anges remained on the' plat form and handed him up hié little pharmacy, as well as (he other packages brought with the luggage. ¢ “Have you §ot everything?” Sister Hya- cinthe asked hif. © “All right! Now you only need go to sleep 't your corner,’as you complain 50 much .that ‘nobody calls upon you." 7 Ferrand began'to laugh softly. “‘Sister, I am going to help Sister Saint-Francois. 1 shall light the oil stove, wash the cups and carry out the things whenever we stop, ac- cording to the list that is here. And should you require any medicine you must come and tetch me.” Sister Hyacinthe likewise began to laugh. “But we do not need medicine any more, as all our Invalids are cured. Then, looking into his eyes, she said, with her calm and fraternal manner, “Goodby, M. Ferrand."” Ho still smiled, although an ‘infinite emo- tion moistened his eyes. The tremor in his voice told of the mever-to-be-forgotten jour- ney, of the joy of having seen her again, the eternal memory and aivine tenderness with which it left him. “Goodbye, sister.” Mme. de Jonquicre was speaking of going to her own carriage with Sister Claire des Anges andl Sister Hyacinthe. But the lat- ter assured her there was no hurry, as they were only just bringing in the invalids. So she left her, taking off the other sister, and promised to oversee everything; she even in- sisted on taking her litile bag, saying that she would find it in her seat. So the ladies were able to walk up and down, talk among themselves, on the broad platform where it was 80 pleasant. Pierre, however, with his eyes on the great clock, saw the minutes go by, began to feel surprised not to see Marle coming with her father. He trusted M. de Guersaint had not lost her on the way. He was wonder- ing, when he perceived M. Vigneron, exas- perated, pushing his wife and little Gustave in front of him furiously. “Ob, Abbe, 1 beg you do tell us where is our carriage, and help us w put in our luggage and this child. My head is quite gone and I am quite beside myselr.” Then, just in front of the second class compartment, he burst forth, selzing the priest’s hands at the very moment in which the latter was about to help up the little in- valid. “Just fancy! They Insist on my golng; they have said that if T wait till tomorrow my return ticket will be worthless. It was no use telling them all about the ac- cident. I can tell you it is not so funny to De left behind with a dead body, to watch it and put it in a cofiin, and fetch it on to- ntorrow, with all the attendant delays. Well, they say that it is not their business; that such large reductions are already glven on the tickets for pilgrimages; that they cannot enter into the accounts. of people who e Vigneron listened, trembling, while Gustave, quite forgotten and overcome by the fatigue of using his crutches, lifted up his poor face with agonizing curiosity: “well, T put fti to fliem in every light, and sometimes it strfikes/in—what do they wish o to do with thie budy? I cannot take it in my arms today like a plece of luggage. Tam theretore, forced to remain. Oh, what stupid, wicked creaturef'therg really are!" “Have you spoken 'tb the station master? Rl B . 'the ‘ftapibn master! He s over there in the crowd. | They could not find him before. How ¢afh Yol expect things to be done properly in{hé midst of such a tramp- ling and shoving? But I must get hold of him and tell hir{’what I think about it!" Then, percolvift Ma wite, all upsct and 0 added” motlonlesn, o ool there? Got in, that we may hand you the baggage and the child.” Then followed ¢ tufmoil. He pushed her up and threw in the parcels, while the priest lifted Gustave in Is arms. The poor little creature, aflight as a bird, seemed to have grown thinner, and was so covered with sores, so filled with'suffering, that he gave o cry. Yon, my darling, @@ T hurt you “No, no, abbe; but I am #o shaken up; 1 am very tired this afternoon.” He smiled in his little sad way and leaned back in the corner, closed his eyes, quite done up by this mortal voyage. ; “You can understand,” continued M. Vig- neron, “it does not amuse me much to re- main behind and bore myseif, while my wits and son go back to Parls without me. They must go, for life is no longer bearable at the hotel, and at any rate I should be obliged to pay for three tickets It they cannot be brought to reason. | must say my wife has not much sense. She never will be able to el ong.'" BOY AONEth hlg last breath, ho plied Mme Vigneron with the most minute instructions about what she should do during the trip, just how she should go into their apartment, and what to do for Gustave if he had an at- tack. Very submissive and somewhat flus- tered, she answered {o every phrase: "Yes, yes; yes, my dear. Of course, dear.” He was taken suddenly by a fit of anger: “Well, ft must be settled. Yes or no— whether It is good or not--my return ticket, I must find the station master.” He rushed off again into the crowd, but saw Gustave's crutch lying on the ground. It was | a fresh disaster, and he heid up his arms, asking heaven and calling upon God to wit ness if there ever had been such complica- tions, And he threw the cruten to his wife, running off, confused, and crying out ““Here! you would forget everything!" The invalids were beginning to come now, and, just as when they arrived, there was a pushing, shoving crowd the whole length of the platform and across the lines. Bvery imaginablo {ll was there; every kind of mai- ady, and all sorts of different deformities filed past once more, without any app diminution of efther their number or the gravity of the cases, so that the several cures must have made but a feeble effect in the midst of such a sad, darksome gather ing. Most were being taken back just as they had been brought. Little wagons that carrled helpless old women, with their bas- kets at their feet, rattled over the rails. On the stretchers were lying swelled bod- les, pale faces with glistening eyes, as the litters were balanced among the rude push- ing of the rabble. 1t was all mad haste, without reason, an _inexpressible confusion, cails, questions, sudden running—the turn- ing backward of a flock of sheep who could no longer find the door of the sheep fold Finally even the stretcher bearers lost their | head, not knowing which way to go, as the quick cries of the ofiicials frightened the people, scattering them 4n their fear. “Be careful! Take care over Hurry! No, no, do not cross! i louse trai comes the train.” Pierre, as he came there still, Mme. de Jonquiere and the oth- ers, who were still taiking gayly. Near them he could hear Berthaud, who had bzen stopped by Father Fourcade, who wished to my E there! e Tou- ulouse i here back, saw the ladis | craz Lady of Lourdes had suecored beggars while nti- agony she disdained to cast a look on the be ful and powerful lady who wrs in mid her laces, Pierre suddenly thought perhaps he had not seen Marie and M. Guersaint arrive and that they might ba in the railway carriage Ho went back to it, but only found own vallse there on the seat. Sister Hyacin the and Sister Claire des Anges were set tling themselves before the Invalids came and when Gerard brought M Sabathier in a bath chalr Plerro afded to got him up— a hard task The former yet very caln once more took “Thanks, gen are. It fs not bad get me out again in After_covering his legs with a Mme. , Sabathler got out again to outside the open door of the carrlage was chatting with Plerre when she rupted herself to say Why, there is Mme. Maze to her_place. She conflded day. Sho is a very unhappy little woman, She called to her and obligingly offered to keep her things. But the called back, laughing and jumping y person: 0, no; I am not How is that? You are not going no; I am not going. That say, [ am going, but not with you. with you!" She “was 8o extraordinary, so that they could hardly recognize ler faded bionde face smiled, she seemed years younger and suddenly taken out the infinite sadness of her previous ab ment. She gave a cry of overwhelming joy. (To be continued next Sunday.) BACHELOR HO Somerville Journal, He s a bachelor pro tem, His wife's away, And meanwhile—you can make a mem.— Life fsn't play. that made them all professor, with a « perspire. shed of his last, possession lomen, At srner. here Parls. blanket She coming like is SEKEEPING, He 'sleeps in all the beds in turn. '"Twould make his wife's face set and stern If she could see how things are mussed congratulate him upon the good order that had been ntained throughout the pil- grimage. The former magistrate bowed, flattered. “Is it not a lesson to the reverend father? People are killed in Paris, whenever similar crowds celebrate some bloody date in their execrable history. They ought to come here and learn. The idea of being obnoxious to the gov- ernment that compelied him to resign enchanted him. He was never so happy at Lourdes as during the great gatherings of the faithful, as when women were almost crushed. Yet he did not seem satisfied with the result of the political propaganda that ke mado there for three years every year, He was impatient; it did not work fast enough. When would our Lady of Lourdes bring back a monarchy? “Look here, father, she only means the real triumph would be to bring a mass of workmen here from the cities. I can only dream of that, or work toward that end. AN! if one might only create a Catholic democracy!" Father Fourcade looked very grave. His fine, Intelligent eyes giistened at the thought, and looked far ahead into the far distance. How often he had made this idea the object for the creation of a new people! But would it not require the divine breath of another Messiah? “Ye ' he murmured, democracy. ~ Ah! the history would begin afresh!” Father Massais interrupted him with pas- sion, saying that all nations of the earth would end by coming; whereat Dr. Bonamy who, perhaps, was aware of a slight cool- ness in_the fervor of the pilgrims, nodded his head and gave it as his opinion that the falthful ‘members of the grotto must re- double their zeal. ~ For his part, he would gain the greatest success by giving the greatest possible publicity to the miracles, | And he pretended to learn, laughing com- | placently, as he pointed to the tumultuous lino of invalids. “Look at them! Are they not going away in a better condition? Many do not look | cured, who are really carrying off the be- ginning of a cure, be sure of it. Ah! those plucky ones. They do more than we for the glory of Our Lady of Lourdes But he had to stop. Mme. Dieulafay was passing in front of them in her silken tufted box. They put her down at the door of the first class carriage, where a maid was al- ready arranging the luggage. A feeling of ity filled all hearts, for the miserable woman did not appear to have been roused from her stupor during all the three days spent at Lourdes. Just as they had taken her down, in the midst of her luxury, on the day she arrived, exactly the same’ she was about to be lifted up by the litter | bearers; dressed in lace, covered Jewels, with her dead looking, 'stupid, mummykke face that was lignifying. One might “even have said she was more T duced, more shrunken away, more and more like a child’s frame in the horrible malady, which, after destroying the bones, was now ending her life by meiting the flabby parts of the muscles. Her husband and incon- solable sister, with red eyes, crushed by the loss of their last hope, followed her with Abbe Judaine like one follows a body to a cemetery. “No, no; walt a bit,” sald the priest to the porters, as he prevented them from putting her 'in.“She will have long enough time to stay in there. Let her at least enjoy this fine alr and sky up to the last moment.” Then, as he saw Pierre near him, he took him oft a few steps and sald in broken hearted tones: “Oh, I am so distressed. Up to this morning I still hoped. T had her taken to the grotto, where I said mass for her, and came back to pray there till 11 o'clock. But it availed not. The Holy Virgin has not heard me. She has cured me, a poor, useless old man, yet I have been unable to procure the healing of this lovely woman, 50 young, so rich, whose life ought to be a continual fete. Surely the Holy Virgin knows better' than we what she should do, and I bow, I bless her name. But my soul is really filled with fearful sadness.” He did not tell all. He did not confes the thought that so upset him, in his child- like simplicity, that neither’ passion &or doubt had ever touched. It was thi Those poor, sorrowing people, the husband and the sister possessed too many millions; they had brought too many beautiful pres ents; they had given too much money to the Basilica. The miracle was not to be purchased, and the riches of this world only stand in the way of God. Undoubtedly the Holy Virgin had re- mained deaf to their entreatics, had shown herself cold and severe to them only that she might hear better the fecble voices of the miserable creatures who came empty handed, rich alone in their love, showering down her blessings upon them, overpower- ing them with the burning tenderness of the divine mother. And these poor rich people who were not blessed, this sister, this husband standing so sadly by the poor frame they were taking home, they feel themselves to be pariahs in the middle of that crowd of humblo cured or consoled ones, and they drew back, overcome by their uneasy feelings, ashamed to see that Our republic, my “a Catholic of humanity with | Since she went off, in placid trust That fhings would & where they loft While her dear hubby was bereft. were The bureau dr; With shirts and The floor, bec To find a’ shirt awers are half pulled out, socks strewn all abov® use he tried one day he'd put away. The parlor hasn't once been swept, His old clzar stumps he has Kept Upon the center table, where There chanced to be a small place bara Out in the kit hen in a pile Are the dishes wathered, while Her indolent, thoush loving spouse Has been a bachelor keeping house. The pile will grow without « doubt As long as t ipply holds ou Then he'll brace up, when necd confronts, And wash the whole lot up at once. The whole house has a musty ar Of stale tobacco; everywhere Newspapers litter up the floor— And I could tell you of much more Which, if his dear wife knew of it, Would make her fall down in a fit. Oh, things have gone to wreck and wrack While she's away And you can bet when she comes back Life won't be play’ TEACHING A GIRL TO SWIM. The Easlest and Quickest Way for Acquir- that \ccomplishment. It at the seaside many a girl who was never in the water before can quickly ac- quire this most graceful and serviceable ac- complishment by a very simple method. A comfortable flannel bathing suit and a strong-armed brother or other companion who swims well are the chief equipments for this practical beginning. Wade into the water until it is waist deep, and then ask your brother to put one arm under your body about the waist line and place his other hand undor your chin. Then lift your feet off the bottom and move your arms in a curve from face outward. Have never a bit of fear, you are well sup- ported, your face Is out of the water, and you will feel your body lifted up by it as though pushed from beneath, Now, with your arms and logs strotched to their full length, make the first stroke. Draw your hands up to your chest, the finger | tips nearly touching, the palms turned out. Then sweep your arms out in half-circles through the water until they stretch out straight an elther side from your body. Your legs meanwhile must also be drawn up. | until your toes almost touch, then stretch out quickly, the feet far apart. When your hands are drawn up against your chest your knees must be simultane- | ously crooked to bring your feet together, and arms and legs propelled through the water at the same moment. Go through these movements for at least ten minutes every day in the water, having | some one to hold you up, and resting for a bit every two or three minutes. By perhaps the fifth morning you will be able to be in the water with only your chin in your brother's hand. ~ You are feeling by this time how buoyant the water is, and you are beginning to trust it. After that you will feel yourself moving along an inch or two, and anyone's fore- finger lightly pressing up will keep your head above water. About the tenth morning you will be able to dispense with even a heiping finger, and will swim a few feet at a time. Afier that the old rule of practice making perfect must be followed in order that you may learn to swim twenty yards at a stretch, which is a fine feat for one's first summer in the water. To hasten your progress as a beginner try to remember and follow closcly these simple rules, the violation of which greatly retards one's progress: When in the water never open your mouth. Breathe through your nose. Never, when learning to swim, go in water over your waist in depth. Never go with anybody but a person who knows how to swim, who is kind and cau- tious, and who would not play pranks or practical jokes. Never fail to go in every morning regularly. Never be discouraged. Jack the Hau A well known man about town, otherwise sane, has taking a flendish delight in smash- ing the headwear of hls friends, says the Philadelphia Record. No tile was_sacred, no hat too fine for his aim. Until Friday it was this man’s proud boast that he had smashed at least thirty hats since wint One particular acquaintance, a big, broad- shouldered, good natured fellow, who had es- caped the flend, was just itching to have his tile crushed. ~His desire was granted on Friday, for the fiend swooped down upon and drove his hat into a shapeless mass. In stantly, however, his own hat was off and the next Instant in shreds, and himself roll- ing around the street under a 1 that was not so gentle even as a paving sweeper. The hat smasher presenied a sorry spectacle when he emerged from the cyclone, but its safe betting that he won't destroy any more headgear. The STOMAC to the fuel consum given off by the glowing couls Tent stove and will lest it rebel and th the TEETH are i (food) for the stomach. DR. his air, and resigned, sank down and we Now it only remains to stand inter- back in me the other NEWCOmer | gwner going." to Not beaming Her ten of andon- | auling | YOUNG CLUB MAN REFORMED He Doos Not Join a Church, but is Saved Nevertheless, Good Advice Followed Make n Horse § 1 ot He Drank The DiMculty s to ik When You Have the Water— Heavily. SAN FRANCISCO, Cal, June.—One of the best known young club men in the city | has been reformed. He has, he says, been { saved, and s neither ashamed of the date ‘n{ the urrence or the means which | brought it about ! For years h about town." wealthiost | young man had been a noted In 1888 his father, one of the men in the city, died, and the finding himself practically sole of an immense cstate, started the ball rolling at tip-top epeed. Nothing was {00 good; no company was too rapid for his pace. But whilst his money did not give out, his health did, and the wild carcer ha to stop. Indeed, as a matter of fact, six | months ago thers scemed to be a very small margin between himself and the grave His assoclates spoke of him as “‘poor Char- lie,” and whenever he was driven past, scarcely able to sit up, some erstwhile con- vival friend would murmur, “Too bad that Charlie is so 1il, he was such a good fellow.'” But “man that I8 all changed. A months ago, feeling a littio usual, he strolled out and sat moments in Union spuare. He was the cynosure of all eyes—weak, sunken eyes and cheeks, and trembling limbs. Prosently an older man—one of the men in high places in the railroad—who was passing, £aw him as ho was crossing the square and went over and joined him. The two chatted for quite a long time, the rallroad man_apparently getting more earnest all the time. They stayed together fully half an hour, and then the young man, leaning pretty heavily on the’ elder man's arm, walked over toward the corner of Powell and Geary streets. It was so strange a sight to see the broken down club ma walking that a reporter, who had been watching the proceedings, followed them. At Geary street they took a southbound Powell street car and went to the Market street terminus of that line. Not a word was spoken by eithor on the way, and in stepping out of the car the elder man offered his arm again, which was gratefully accepted. Up Market street they turned and when they got opposite a white builds ing almost opposite Fifth street, they halted. Then there was a few moments mors anxious conversation. The railroad man was evidently trying to persuade the younger to do something he did not wish to. Eventually they turned and entered the white bullding. It was the Hudson Medical Institute, 1032 Market street, the well known institute of San Francisco, Cal., and soon the elderly man appeared alone. He was approached some questions we state th couple ot better than down a few by the reporter and > put to him as to the young clubman's health. vo just saved his life,” |lm said. “I have induced him to go life,” he said. “I have induced him to go to the Hudson Medical Institute, and the specialists there say it is not too late to save him, and I have the fullest confidence in them. I don’t think I ever knew of a worse case than Charlie’s,” he continued, “but I've seen that ‘Great Hudyan' of theirs work such miracles that I belisved if I could only get him there all would be yet well. Well he's there, and I'll chance the result."” It was some time before the younger man appeared, and when he did it ‘was only to step into a hack to be driven back to the. club. It was noticed, however, that he was driven to the institute regularly every day for some time—then he began to walk there, and it was evident that he was becoming stronger. A month ago he went to San Diego, and last night, in celebration of | his return, he gave a dinner to half a score of his old friends. He looked the picture of perfect health as he sat at the head of the splendidly appointed and handsomely decorated table. s | In replying to a congratulatory speech made by one of his guests, amongst other things he said: “You all know how de- bauched I was—no memory, no courage, no appetite, and, In a word, no manhood | left,” and extending his right hand toward the railroad man, who sat on his right, he said, “This is the friend who induced me to go where I was completely cured, but I have another friend to thank, and that_fs | this,” and he pointed to a handsome de- | sign at the end of the banquet hall where, worked In white and pink roses was the motto, “The Great Hudyan.” “I will adg my testimonal so that all who want to read it may £0 to the institute and get it free.’” It was nearly midnight before all the con- gratulations ‘and speech making had been completed. SRS AR An Outrage, Washington Star: “Why don't you g0 to work?" asked the woman who came to the door in response to Meandering Mike's knock, “Madame,” was the reply, “I do work. I came all the way from town here. An’ how did I do it? Walked. Lifted up one font an’ set it down an’ then done the same with the | other, an’ repeated this opcration over and over agin.” “Dear me,” exclaimed the wo- man, catching her breath. het's the trouble with mankind. IPeller creatures is to0 much misunderstood Ef I hedn't stopped ter enlighten yer mind, 1 don’t doubt ye'd hev gone ter yer dyin’ moment 'maginin® ther guy'ment furnished us fellers with fres bicycles.” doliars that are now vings Bank might like to join this procession. 1 they do, tho sooner you start them rolling towards Edgemont, S. D. the befter, Theyll come back to you, two for one. And §5 & month is all you need. Let us s List, and Plat. like, The Edgemont Company, Omaha, Neb. o o g s oo G Somo of your vegetating in nd you our Pampliet, Prico References, too, if you 'H may be compared to a store—the food wed in the stove—and LIFI to the heat The stomach is an oxcel- \ bad fuel - but, have u care, he fire (Lafe) be extinguished. Seo that n proper condition to prepave the fue Consult burn muc BAILEY, PAINLESS DENTIST, Third Floor, Paxton Block, 16th and Farnam Sts, Lady Attendant. A full set of Teoth extracted w 1.00. #6.00 to $8.00, ment. Nitro oxid Teeth filled wi Pure gola fillings Bridge te ovman Spoken. Tolophone 10 teeth, on rubber, $5.00; fit guaranteed, ithout pain, without gus. Silver filling. 2.00 and up. Gold crowns, 2:ks. th $6.00 per tooth and attach- » pas wad narcotized air sdministered. thout pain. USE DR. BAILEY'S TOOTH POWDER,