anxsr
f
THE HESPERIAN
f-'n.
i '
m
?:
w
rV,
s?
SAINT GABRIEL.
. The dwellers in St. Catherine's street were
not a goodly people, for although its dingy
signs bore the names of more saints than
any other street in all the city, yet, too, its
dark tenement houses were darker, its pov
erty more wretched, and its vice more wicked.
Lifting itself up from the busy street, and
seeming to crush with its oppressive great
ness the tall frame buildings which, never
theless, leaned close against it, arose the
Church of Saint Gabriel, with the angel on
its spire.
All day long the sun shone down upon the
gilded angel, and, from the falling light of
its outspread wings, brightened the grey
stone tower first on one side, then on the
other; while from the mouth of the flaring
trumpet issued a blast of light which shim
morod across the street and down upon the
window panes of the room whore Pierro
llonnard lived.
"Little Pierro," the tenants called him,
and truly, for ho was such a tiny fellow that
Henri Nanviaux, the scissors-grinder, old
and woak as ho was, could easily carry him
upon his back, This Pierro liked to havo
him do, for during all of his life he had been
a sickly boy, and it was seldom that he could
ondure to walk about, or oven to play with
the other children of the square.
Still ho had frionds. On pleasant Sunday
aitornoons when his father would pass along
tho streot with Pierro in his arms, all the
uhildron would crowd about to greet their
friond, tho pale and light-haired boy-.
Thoy know, then, thut ho was to havo a
walk through tho beautiful park, or else that
ho would Hoo tho great, whito ships as thoy
lay al anchor and could look far off across
tho wide water.
Ho smiled ploasantly to tho children at
th'oso times, but his dark oyos wore a pity
ing look, for ho seemed to think that al
though thoy wore strong and ho was woak,
yet ho was far happier than they. He had a
friend dearer and truer than any earthly
one tho Angel Gabriel himself far up on
the tower.
On week days, when his father and Henri
were away at their work, and Pierre was
alone in the small room, painting wooden
dogs, and dolls and cats, toys for the rich
children, it was Gabriel who cheered him as
ho worked, and who filled him with a strange
happiness which ho felt that no one else
could understand.
As ho worked busily on, the noise from
tho street below grew vague and far away,
and ho and Gabriel, together, wandered
through green fields bright with flowers, or
sat beside streams of water, which, clear and
cool, flowed along over their pebbly bods.
Together, too, thoy looked down upon tho
street; saw groups of men idle and wrotcliGd;
dirty children, quarreling perhaps over somo
choice bit found in tho gutter; and women
shiftless and discouraged.
The church door stood open always, but
few of those people ever entered. Some
times a sad-looking girl would go in timidly
and later would come out, happy as an
angel, so Pierro thought.
His father had told him in a bitter tone,
once when ho asked why so fow of tho ton
ants wont to church, that churches wore not
meant for poor people, and had said no
moro.
But Pierro had his own thoughts. Ho
know that tho groat rich people camo ovory
Sunday, and ho had seen how thoy shrank
back from tho bogging groups or soomod not
to notico them at all; yot was not tho church
beautiful and was it not his Angol Gabriel's?
Ilo remembered how onco his fathor had
taken him in, and down tho aisle, and near
tho altar, then aftorwards had carried him
up, up tho winding stairs to whoro tho bolls
hung. It was suroly a quiot, peaceful place,
and if ho wore well, ho thought, and never
needed to work, ho would always stay in the
church, for there ho felt nearer to Gabriel,
and he was in hoavon.
His ideas wore confused, perhaps, but
nevertheless his childish faith was strong.
Jf- J-t i
.'XlliMttt ("'J,
gjg
mf,rmrarfffirTwiiaifaawawii'ii'w3'ia"atf
r! V "v
