The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 8, 1900, Page 7

THE SUNDAY CALL hed completely, and this programme business d never z er than a M is great fortune er earned for hurch. He had ney to the religious ccasions. It must had redeemed h sel? to #peak, by presenting a larger P o ipal schools eac anks to these liberalities, the rch pardone for his indiffer- . bout his bus duties and for Grand Sphinx s w as & matter of f any more than he r d in th b on to the p hapel ut of place; tr rs of Calvary, In the emptionists, in the 1 for sick children f the Sacred Blood, aire. These Catholic iependent of one an- are in politics until Abbe Minot, the first This priest de- d In detail Min the son of environs of bor: in 1862 His om cancer, being s c owing to the impos- r had alw intended over his parl even overseveral of his Iways felt by the the presence terminati nited to an irre- People felt th was absolutel frequent ders, enough much less ous ¢ religious of the ma- independent in cha sought advice about th k necessary to take. He was artment of Religious Wor- y Hall, at the various Gov- tries, at the bankers’, a knocking at every door, om every purse, obtaining ults at the price of a few he disdained. It was he ar St. Francis Xavier's mestic servants, provid- capital and carrying on g w an extraordinary agement. The accusation t him, at first in ec- being an intriguer, r so persistent ahd the Archbishop was it. The Abbe Minot hout being consulted, ost of first curate of Charles. In thus ring district his short ired to remove from for the utilization of alarmed them. Jean Fran- his new post without mur- n to study the place and he was properly estab- steps LR sufficed for him to make T r with the political condi- n parish. A homo- socialistic mu- returned at the last ality that refused to n to the clerical party. ary body was disorganized. he fragménts of the lessly f n, undertook the duty of ringing them together again in a solid K 1 succeeded 80 well that the en- t of candidates accepting the com- arles was elected in 1896, ave ¢laimed with justice the victory, but he was nity and cared nothing for ed for the sake of work- ued for the sake of intriguing, h the disinterested infallibility of in- The various groups that he had sited so cleverly were almost unaware influence hey believed him to be y the instrument wielded by power- hands. As a matter of fact he acted upon his own inltiative. M. de entirely arre and the Aiglons, the leaders of I the clerical party, quickly fell into his hands. for the Vicar, the Abbe Du- bourdier, a venerable priest of 65, en- 1 4 by a chronic malady of the larynx, n of seraphic piety and of tireless himself lucky to find ight and active ¢ st party pure and simple at St. Charles w complete at the 1t when the events occurred that out to be r d no lead- The clever ¢ the munici- Anguetin sympathy of itisfled with in the Muni- having excluded rad dominated perfect mor- majority let them e of the ! leaderless, it a fairly n- capital. The her religious attached to the Xavier, assured atly added to her ug on the Bourse un- Ivice of a broker devoted to the slastic un- sity. It was mir of sm A ed for the cted the rolteac nd F respectively, »yed in Duram- h bec shops , according to son ed to bow to M. Duramberty he two young girls were re- itul, Frederique, the elder, ette with a pale itk eves and clearly cut features, an nger, more delicate and senti- in appear: e, prettier in the g ordinarily attached to the word, blue eyes and nut brown hair the or of pale bronze. tv ones” were also Duyvecke Hespel, a stout Among the included Mile. Fleming, with ir, a former co ated nurse, a ringly ugly aring whet- e of the ot were christen without any cere- “the Mille. de Sainte- immense head and rmed body, her shrill voice ng midw Three ¢ between gray sistants, who with the puplls, or either beauty of the femi nterest d the ng the am pparently an r. Her face, haggard, and, to lit up by the blu- , by a regard of e ry power and magnetism. With- g deformed, ad the fi ing of what the common peop the picturesque term, nchbac! Her name reign ring—Romaine Pirnitz. or wrongly, the occult influence ided the enterprise was attributed » her, although she bore no official title. who met her once never forgot her. yves seemed to emit the mpathy in g flame that Is the secret power of ers of souls, of apostles. Her elo- quence had been a proverb in St. Charles the day of the school’s Inauguration, e made a speech that contalned mme of the new education. The s she uttered upon that occasion re- ed engraved in the memory of all Without obscurity, with- » explained to the the big hall of the of novelty seek- and soctety hat they were not going merely ch the daughters of the poor to , to teach them a little arithmetic, ) sew, ornamental drawing and the of the industrial arts. They were also going to lay the bases for the te education of women by woman, to create a seminary for young girls who 11d be veritably moral and capable of ling for their own needs without be- d to rely upon men at a period hen in France, as in America and Eng- land, celibacy is a cruel soclal necessity for many of them. All these ideas were expressed with such clearness and facility and with such con- vincing warmth that they had not ap- peared at all subversive. On the con- trary, they resembled the reasonable ex- pression of average common-sense. Hum- ble and uninflyential though it pleased her to appear, Romaine Pirnitz remained in the minds of her listeners as the iIn- er and soul of the School of Arts for Women. > official management was iIn the ds of Mlle. Heurteau, assisted by Frederique Surier. As for Mile de Sainte- Parade, M. Duramberty, who had met her to discuss with her the transfer of the declared that she was an old 1 d in turn by priests, stock- holders and the Utopists of feminism. This transfer had been made under somewhat rare conditions. M. Duram- berty, wishing, so he said, to help a gen- erous enterprise, had not asked for any ready money. The school would have no rent tq pay for twenty years. If it should exist on the same spot at the end of that period the foundresses could buy the ground at a price to be fixed according to the value of the surrounding property, without paying anything for their twenty years’ tepancy. If, on the contrary, the enterprise should fail for any reason, or if the foundresses should leave it, M. Duramberty was to recover his property and the buildings were to pass into his possession without any compensation from him being due. In order that the purchase of the land in twenty years might be at Jeast partially guaranteed, the manage- ment of the school deposited 300,000 francs in the Bank of France as security, though the school drew the entire amount of the interest upon this sum. 3 The School of Arts for Women had the good fortune to be well received, not only in the suburb; but also in the whole of Paris. The illustrated papers published photographs of the buildings and the por- traits of Milc. de Bainte-Parade and Mlle. Heurteau. Leader writers strung togeth- er commonplaces upon the feminist ques- tion and revealed by their very articles ack he m, who heard her. out exaggeration, sembled in ing—a mixed public lists, politi that they were totally ignorant of the subject. Then Paris began to think of something else, to talk and write about other things, and the School of Arts for Women aroused no further interest ex- cept in the corner of the suburb where it was built. Its opening period was en- couraging. The shopkeepers of the quar- ter smiled amiably upon their new cus- tomers Every Sunday about thirty pupils, aged from 10 to 16, and accompan- led by one of the lady professors, gravely attended mass at the parish church. The Abbe Minot was on good terms with the directresses of the school. It was said at the town hall that M. Dusambarty hdd given his land and had founded a scholarship in the establishment. His in- terest in it wa id to be due principally to Mlle. Frederique Surier, whom he had pursued with his attentions--whether suc- g ly or not public opimion was di- vided. aturally, the school, which was a formidable riv arded with a friendly eve by the official school part the primary teachers and the directors of industrial instruction. However, as It was re d by the State—for the in- n presided MENT S e a delegate from the Ministry Instruction—no one dared G any open hostilit 3 ct rles had proclaimed an armistic ation ocl, sraduate pro- , Wi a university g vided , with the ne; What more ¢ 1 be 2 After the brilliant inaugu st work appeared to und task of tits ex- tic in which the prin- surtyard. When iterior 1 the r. assers-by could kept were the bulidings, how » the courtyards and what or- rei der ned everywhere. In the evening he windows, brilliantly lighted with elec tric light, even cclipsed those of the Dur- am workshops. The little pupils, nea 1 in biack, with red cash- mere \es, were met in the neighbor- hood lways without governessessave when -t were eat number. They were only little Parisian daughters of the people caref recruited. But childhood is so malle so impressionable to e bearing of the little f distine 3 \ir of intelligence, decision Three of them did the every mornin first accom- r, but later al Very the . soon became ¢ am and ordinary shopping per- cal afternoon n arranged at relle, a score of the lit d them on Sondals ana gnitied, attentive and with il grace that even the sar- of the gallery gods were When spring reanimated ntry groups of little “Arts” ed ‘from the school in the tress and rambled about the suburbs with entomologists’ boxes slung over their shoulders. At the end of every term the notabilities of the town were in- vited to attend a dramatic and musical evening given in a big hall. The programme was not extraordinary, but merely to enter the school was suffi- cient to preve that a very radical change of educational method was followed. Its effects were manifest in the bearing of ihe pupils, left to themselves free from supervision, and who looked their mis- tresses and the public frankly in the face and recited distinctly and without embar- ment or timid It was admitted that the little “Arts” were amusing and pretty, and that they were very wide- awake. This complete agreement between the school and the soclal forces of the town still existed at the end of the first schol- tic vear. An experienced phildsopher would have been sufprised that it lasted ) long. It was impossible that the. es- N f the work under 'n by Romaine itz and her collaboratresses could be ing spirit of a ssimilated in the s faubourg. In the first place the ian population is not to be easily persuaded that a union of women from which men are excluded can organize and carry out a serious and durable enterprise. Woman in Paris is an article of luxury, of h, or simply of the household. Any effort to open ap other functions for her is looked upon as revolutionary or ridiculous. The school in the Rue des Vergers escaped banter by a miracle when it was founded, but it was closely watched hy the p tine mind, irritated by this femi e rebellion, and also by the ironical Ititude to whom feminism is a variety of masquerade. As for the social forces, properly speak- that the church, the municipal- and the official schools, the first two, v ‘rate, could have assuredly lived upon peaceful terms with Pirnitz's work on the condition, however, that they could it d that they could dominate it. The Compact of St. Charles was not a programme of tolerance; it was an offen- sive alllance and a menace to all those who did not participate in it. A free school that did not subscribe to the com- 't was at once suspicious to the cleri- als and to the municipality, for being independent it could inaugurate or rein- force the opposition any day. As for the official school party, which accepted. the conditions of the compact and the equality of treatment accorded to religious estab- lishments with much impatience, it was soon irritated by a competition that was not even under the safeguard of the mu- nicipality. The instincts of the crowd and' political interests were, therefore, entering into a coalition against the expansion of the work. Undertakings can resist and tri- umph over such coalitions. The founda- tion of the Institut Pasteur, so opposed and Iy victorious, is a proof of this. But they have to be supported by power- ful adherents and above all by fnexhaus- tible financial resources. The feminist party, although so solld in other coun- tries, has no appreciable strength in Paris as yet.® The financlal question, therefore, was one of life and death for the School of Arts for Women. CHAPTER I One afternoon in June, toward the end of the scholastic year of 1898, the Deputy Mayor of St. Charles, Quignonnet, was seated before the massive mahogany desk of his office in the town hall verifying the accounts for some repalrs that had re- cently been executed at the municipal fire- engine station, when an unliveried office boy half opened the door. Quignonnet, who was just finishing add- ing up a column qf figures, made a sign with his hand for him to wait. When he had written the total he raised his head— a little, lean, sandy head, crowned with sparse hair, with a bushy mustache cut level with the line of the lips. He spoke with a littie lisp, as though the words found their way with difficulty out of his narrow mouth, in which the protruding teeth were all awry. “What is the matter, Bonnault?"” “The Abbe Minot wishes to speak to you, sir.” g “Very good: show him in.” ‘Without closing the door the boy with- drew and returned in a few moments fol- lowed by the priest. Jean Francols Minot advanced famillar- ly, his battered, -weather-beaten three- cornered hat under his arm, his short cas- sock disclosing his stoutly soled shoes, with their steel buckles. Pearls of per- spiration were standing upon his farmer's face, above the skin reddened by the cor- rosive action of the razor. He held out his large hand to Quignonnet, who gave him two fingers with precaution, one of the Abbe’s amusements being to squeeze in his huge paw the stockbroker's thin hand. ‘Good-day, Shylock!” “Good-day, Gravedigger!"” Minot appreciated a joke and often made one. Between Quignonnet and the Abbe a joke consisted above all in exchanging in- sulting epithets almed at thelr respective callings. “How hot it s, ity at use ghed the priest, sit- ting down, without waiting to be asked, and wiping his forehead with a big white handkerchief, of which the broad hem and the mark in red cotton could be seen 2 long distance away. The atmosphere of the room, really stifling in such canicular temperature, was heavy with the human odor peculiar to red-haired people. It was almost unbreathable, although a large glazed door leading into the garden was wide open. But the garden itself was ab- solutely without shade except for a lit- tle arbor at the end. The Abbe passed his finger between his neck and bands in order to get a little air. “You are only a packet of bones and tanned hide,” he continued, “and you are as comfortable here as a dried codfish, but I perspire abnormally. 1 am so fat! so fat!" “You people at the parsonage eat too much,” replied Quignonnet, laying down his pen. “If you had only the salary of a Deputy Mayor to live upon you wouldn't get so fat. What brings you here?” Mniot looked at him without speaking. All the muscles of his lips, of his eyes, of his forehead united in a smile that he did his utmost to render coaxing. “I should like"— he began, and then stopped. “What u know very well.” f you want some more money for your v, religious shanties,” th Deputy or said, roughl “you may as well shake the dust of this place off your feet the other de of the door straight s, There has been nothing but your name the budget for about a year. 1t a gulf, great heaven! Don't you fe- a that vou wiil end by provoking a yus attack upon us? Duvert is in the idence of Fredal, the public school teacher, and of Mme. Ribaut, the direct- ress « nal school for girls, and he me they are beginning to com about us on the quiet.” Duvert?” replied the Abbe calmly. “Duvert doesn’t care a rap for Fredal, Ribaut or any of us. He has two daugh- ters who go to school to the Sisters of the Sacred Blood and a son who is study- ing with t fathers In Vaugirard. He knows what your schools are worth, you old 6 per cen “That may be. Duvert brings up his children according to his own ideas, but from refusing to give another sou to your schools this car. You may take my word for {t. Minot took a pastille out of the pocket of his cassock and began to suck it nofs- v. Quignonnat watched him, grinning. “Well, and how are we going to provide sked the Abbe. “We have boys, a hospital and a nursery, all of ‘h require something to make the end of the yecar a little more chcerful. What are we going to do it with? [h?" He had lost all his jovial manner and genuine anxiety darkened his peasant's face, “Ah! two girls’ schools, une for sick children Blessed Virgin he continued, thumping the black of the seat upon which he was sitting with his fist. “You have already received more than two thousand francs for unfureseen ex- penses,” returned the deputy, “‘under the pretext that they were needed for the dis- tribution of prizes. Have they already been swallowe® up? If they have, it is not astonishing that you're so fat!" “Two thousand francs!” grumbled the Abbe, they have already gone—gone very far! What am 1 to do for my new nursery in the Rue Delormel? Why, there are a hundred mouths there that seem to eat money, although there lsn't a tooth in one offthem! And to think that vou are so miserly with us because that jdiot of a Duvert has repeated a lot of gossip to you! However, that's your own affair. I'm going to lay the situation be- fore M. de Lesparre and our committee of patrons. They may judge for themselves whether you are keeping to the compact we made when we elected you. After all, what does It matter to me, personally? 1 shall send in my report and wash my hands of the whole affair.” He rose as he spoke and picked up his three cornered hat. “Well, I'm going.” Quignonnet's face smile. “Sit down, sit down! What a vile tem- per you hav After all, we get along very well together, don't we? Only I can't do everything. 1 haven't Roth- schilds’ bank at my back! Speaking can- didly, you ought to draw a little on your parishioners. It's their turn.” Minot let Quignonnet fi h his phrase without interruption, his face remaining unmoved. The Deputy Mayor arose. “Let us go and smoke a cigarette in the summer-house. We can talk more at our ease there.” The proposition was probably dictated by a little malice, but the Abbe accepted it for all that, in spite of the tropical as- pect of the garden. They went and sat down in the arbor erected at the corner of the boundary wall. The Deputy Mayor offered a cigar- ette to the Abbe. “You understand,” lisped Quignonnet, after he had puffed for a few seconds, “I am quite willing to do all I can for you. 1 know very well you don't put the money in your pocket. Only I am not free. Anquetin doesn't like priests. He is jeal- ous of them, and at our last meeting he said that your schools cost too much.” “Anquetin sald that? “Yes, Anquetin himself. He cited in comparison with yours the one of the lit- tle ‘Arts,” which pays for itself, and asks for nothing from the district—nothing even from the state. Why, would you be- Heve it, they have even refused the mu- nicipal subvention actually due to them, according to the compact for prizes and material “'No, s that so?” said Minot, thought- fully. “They refused it, did they? Those women are evidently rich. They are play- ing the disdainful, Ah! they have man- aged to entangle poor Sainte-Parade.” “They are your friends,” said Quig- nonnet. 1y friends lost its mocking muttered the Abbe, biow- ing out his smoke angrily; “they are a lot of stuck-up blockheads! They have only one idea, that is to walk without leading strings, as though they were grown up people, although they are as ignorant of practical life as a novice in a convent. They think I am stupid. They try to soften me, to wheedle me, and then they shut the door in-my face when [ try to show an interest in the affairs of the school. I don’t say anything, but I under- stand very clearly. Those who are not with us are against us. Do you know who it was who said that, you old manufac- turer of forged L O. U.'s?” He slapped the Deputy Mayor on his bony knee, causing him to jump and make a grimace. “You don't know? Well, it was Our Lord Jesus Christ, my Master.” There was a moment of silence. Then Minot asked, sly “Are you people at the town hall on good terms with the lit- tle ‘Arts’ “Oh, Duramberty seems to take an in- terest in them. You know what people say?”’ “People say—people say! The truth is that Duramberty is led by the nose, just as I am; and yet, in spite of the advances he has made to that girl—you know whom 1 mean—they will not let him even set foot in the school!” “H'm,” replied Quignonnet, doubtfully. “He gave his land free and has founded a scholarship. He is not the man to spend his money for mere wina. Still, T have an idea that matters have not been golng very much to his liking between him and those women of late.” He stopped, longing for the Abbe to question him, but the Abbe pretended to take no interest in the matter. Throwing away the stump of his cigarette, he arose, “Well, good day,” he said, carelessly. “Are you in a hurry?” “I have an appointment at the Convent of the Sacred Blood. The Sisters want to enlarge their establishment—to buy an- other site or enter into negotiations with the proprietors of the nelghboring prop- erty. In fact, they are considering a pretty big project. Good day.” Quignonnet retained the hairy hand held out to him by the Abbe. ‘“Wait a minute. What are you talking about? The Sisters are going to enlarge the Convent of the Sacred Blood? They said nothing to me about it. Yet they cannot be thinking of conducting the ne- gotlations themselve: “I don’t think so,” sald Minot, walking away slowly toward the building. “Have they got a broker?” asked the Deputy Mayor. “No, they simply asked my advice. Good day. Quignonnet took the Abbe by the arm and compelled him to stop. *“1 hope u're not going to propose any other intermediary to them?" “I shall not propose any one. my business. Remember this, It's not my dear fellow, nothing is more dangerous than to give advice to those good Sisters.” “Oh, come, Abbe aid the Deputy Mayor; “you're not speaking seriously. I rely upon you, just as you may rely upon me to look after your schools; you know that very well The face of Abbe Minot assumed an ex- pression that was both cunning and stu- pid, the cxpression of a farmer about to strike a bargain “Oh!" he d, “the St m need any one. Al I v is that the dertaki a big one. It will cost 130,- €0 francs at the ver st “A hundred and fifty repeated Qu nonnet, lisping with emotion affair for me, my dear Jean Fra guarantee that the nuns will.be in good han forget your religi <h said to vou a few minutes ago was o in joke. You know that I amalways res to he you. Is it a gain He raised his voice -a little, carrie away by his desire to secure the conse: of the priest. Minat, with rep looked toward the door of the Deput Mayor's oflice, which they w pproach ing. .Quigno: t S and was taken aback f he saw a man sts tooping over his T It was Jude them erty, h his hat on his head and a cane in one of his gloved h sound of th footsteps of Q not on the two steps leading u door he turned. His ruddy vi with ink black mustache and imperial, althot the thick, bushy hair was slightly gray, appeared in the full light the after- noon sun. His dark eyes examined the pair as they drew near, and he made a step toward them od day, Quignonnet. Good day, Abbe. He took off his silk hat and laid it on the desk Abbe and the Deputy Mayor bowed with a friendly-air cuse Quignonnet, for having en- tered. Bonnault told me you were here. “Quite so, M. Duramberty; he was quite right. You a at home h ake a breath of fresh den. To what do I owe visit?"” “I will tell you. Have you a moment to spare?” “Certainly; ma as you like, M. Wor 't you t Judc “T will le walking toward t “You are not in the Abbe Minot, ve you,” & e d Abbe: on the ay, to give us some »u may be able tion.” at down upon the sofa, the vhile Quignonnet took his place befo the de There were a few moments of sile ., during which the manufacturer, with frowning brow, ap- peared to be reflecting about what he was going to = His two friends waited re- spectfully for him to begin “I recelved a visit this morning from Fredal and Mme. Ribaut. They are both rather di fied and anxious.” ““‘About what?" asked Quignomnet. “It appears that the outlook for the forthcoming school ye not very prom- ising. Fredal has lost only three pupils, but Mme. Ribaut has not a single new one, and she loses eleven. Do you know where they are all going?" “To "the religious schools, naturally said the Deputy Mayor, glancing at the Abbe. “I'm afraid not,” sighed the Abbe; *“‘our reopenings are not so very brilliant as all that!” “All the pupils who are leaving Mme. Ribaut are going to the Pirnitz-Heurteau school. It is a sort of mania in the neigh- borhood. The directresges put all sorts of obstacles in the way of receiving new pupils; refuse this one and that. But in spite of all, applications still flow in. The school is popular. “Heaven only knows why!" cried the Abbe. “The programme they follow is life nothing in this world. There is no regular course, aml not a single one of their pupils has come forward for a di- plom: “No, there are no examinations,” Quignonnet, assenungly; “it Is aga their principles. I understand very easily why the pupils prefer it, but I cannot comprchend the pareats.” “Oh, they are attracted by the novelt the id-a that the id They are tickled witl: children go shopping three by three, wear- ing a black cashmere dress and a red sash; that they run about in the country with a green box slung over their shoul- der and catch butterflies. At any rate, I suppose so!” said Minot grumblingly. “Did Fredal and Mme. Ritaut come to you because you are a member of the committee upon instruction?” the Deputy Mayor asked M. Duramberty. al did.” replied Duramberty. for Mme. Ribaut, she purposes sending a report to the coumcil upon the situation she is in as the result of this new com- petition; and, belleving me to be a patron of the littie ‘Arts,’ she game to apologize in advance and to ask if I should uppose her Quignonnet sald nothing, atter 4 moment, ecked: “You do take an interest in them, don’t but Minot, you He had again put on the good-natured, stupid air that he always adopted to ask awkward guestions. “1?" replied Duramberty. ‘Not more than I do in any other undertaking in this Besides, those women do not de- They are a quarter. serve any friendly interest. little too self-confident.” ““The inspectcr even complains about it,” said Quignonnet, emboldened by the man- ufacturer’s tone. “As far as I am concerned,” said the Abbe, shaking out his broadhemmed handkerchief, If they had not S: behind them their school blockhe: le’s millior wouldn't last very long. He blew his nose noisily. Duramberty smiled Have you seen the miillons that belong to Mile. de “Oh, I can assure you, rade has plenty of mo when she attended St. Francois Church. I was even her conf that time she w: a very g« 4 s hadn’'t yet fellen Into the hanlds c that Pirnitz gang. But she is certain T v d Dt terested dis t which was usually in their discussi th him womn are ve unsympathe- tie,” went ¢ wnufacturer. “I have heiped them as much as 1 could. But for me they could never have built th school. [ founded a arship and of- fered them my oversee ) §1ve a course of lessons free. They refused my offer, under the pretext that the rules of th chool excluded men from the educational ourse. It is n ! Feminism! What do people m ? I admit t and a i , but they ha )se immediately as ene- that women have earn their bread no busine: a righ aply a lot of blockheads,” Abbe, who seemed to be quite satisfied with this epithet They are beginning to antagonize, by their attitude, all who at fir: o them,” sald Qu for example, does are a very warm affe They are a lot of repeated Minot. “Bes! a free schocl to be wi After all, I can _underst sehools being Witho hey are watched by the Chamber, and th ernment cannot do ju as it would - although—well, no matter. * * * B n who pretend to be Chri allow a minister think of wom tions, and w » will not of religtc eir door! I am told they are 10 admit Protestants and s! Would you to know what y opinion of femin % are crz said Quignonnet. “Just imagine de intrusting r Michél!" They are ntinued Minot, “and mor »us than anarchists with bombs, ring up pupils who will ¢ ymething more import- ant than a house on a boulevard. They will overthrow marriage, the family, clety! It chool of rank anarchy You will see! It's your duty, you who govern the district, either to shut up that building or to exercise your author- ity over it!” “Bravo, Abbe!” cried Quignonnet But Jude Duramberty shook his head:— “It's easier to talk of shutting up or controlling a school than it is to do ft. In the first place, we have no power to do either legall and even if we succeed- ed in the roundabout we should have all the su parents of the The pupi way, ¥ are almost all There were many jw: but > who hers and moth 'y at are we to do?" asked Quig- low the municipal d for the benefit 1 the first ter next bat year hav “Well, wh nonnet. “We cannot hools to be depopula spendthrifts.” me reason to belleve that | embarrassment will trouble them very soon,” replied Duramberty. “We might seek some information on this point. Try to find out, Quignonnet, what stock Michel is speculating in now! I am told that he has risked a lot of capital in an’American wheat trust. That looks like madness to me!” 1 will find out.” “Then we must make a campaign to de- fend our schools. Have you a newspaper at your ¢ es, T hs It's not a bad little she d pub- lish an article or two in it that would be “I hav financi reproduced by “Article Pr abos ala ad ferably in the S hat I bee M. Jude S5 addl it n arrived of e T ashed will be abt were in my of a very Tt pose as rivals to be pr strong as men's Thes “thook hands and separated. Quignonnet had v steps im e des Ver amberty after him (Continued “Get the affair for me, my dear Jean Francols.”