Short Sotry.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 2278, 15 September 1899, Page 6

Short Sotry.

The Hat of Napoleon. (By MRS. M. L. RAYNE.) A little maid stood on Christmas F.ve, looking into the window of a large store that was glowing with light, and tilled with gifts appropriate to the season. She was talking to herself: "It is not there. They have sold it. and now poor Ma'm'selle will not have any Christmas* prvseut. It is too bad—too l«ul !"

S-hc wrung her hands, and a fat. com-fortable-looking woman asked her if she nad lost anything.

" It was not for myself." she said in a tear-choked voice, "but for Ma'm'selle, the lady I work for every day. She comes from a country far over the sea, and I had a present picked out for her. and they said they would keep it, and

now it is gone." The child sobbod in her excitement, and the woman said kindly : " Come inside and ask them if it is sold. Who knows, child, that it isn't put away for safe-keeping?" And she opened the door into the warm, comfortable shop, and approached the counter, the little maid keeping directly behind her. " Now. then, do you see it. child ?" asked the woman, turning around sharply as the young clerk Iwdiind the counter saepped forward to wait on her.

"Oil. it fs you." said t.he clork. re>-og-nising the small figure : " here Is your pin-cushion, your hon-Ix>n box. and a very pretty thin? it is. too. and so cheap. You see, I have kept it for you as promised."

" Thorp." said tho woman. " you are nil right. and I must go homo now. and a merry Christinas, child." The child nodded hor head with a pleased look, which was etiquette enough for the occasion between parsons who understood each other. Then she took out a shabby purse, and •tinted out dimes and half-dimes until -> requisite sum was reached. ***?,; it filial ?" she asked as she t<»>k Me package tenderly In her hands.

indeed : and with tho best we the showcases—a little of each." IT# little girl was very happy. She was a poor, ignorant child, yet she had . intuitions of the most delicate and discriminating character. She could not tell wbat the simple gift slio had chosen represented. but she know it would please Ma'm'selle. who was so alone in this strange country, not even six-akin:: its language very well. Maggie. her little servant, had st-en something in a picture like this. The picture hnug in Ma'm'selle's room, who often looktwl at it and wept.'but she loved it. A girl of ordinary character would never have made such a thoughtful application of an idea, the idea would never have suggested itself : but Maggie was far from being an ordinary character. Indeed. T am not indulging in extravagance if I compare her to a diamond among pebbles. To buy this little sift for her /mistress she had denied herself necessary comforts. " There's such a lot of us." she had •.said at home : "and there's only one of ther. and she must bo awful lonesome up . in that high pkiee-T do be sorry for ifolks that has to live in flats." Maggie's lfa.mily lived on the first floor, off an alley.

After showing her present to the ."amily of seven at homo. Maggie, accompanied by one of her younger sis:ors, ran off to Ma'm'selle's room up in 'he flat, where tho Frenchwoman gave lesions in " Tjanguogo." as a little sign tacked to the door announced. The little maid worked there days, but at night she went home and helped her jnother. This Christmas Eve was the happiest she had ever known, because she was making a Christmas for one who was more destitute than herself-so Maggie reasoned. She shut her eves ti<rht and f-tjp tears blinked through tho lids as she thought what if she were alone in a strange land, with no one belonging to her—and she gripped her little sister so rlose to her that the child was piinod for a moment and then bewildered by the caress that followed.

Madcmrtfsorie Vorlnine sat alone on Christmas Eve. and as she listened to the many feet pattering below in the city streets the tears of loneliness fell down her poor cheeks and made of her a nit table figure Indeed. "Noel! Noel !" she wailed, and clasped her hands. As the sweet Christmas carols, first sung bv angels on the plains of Bofhlohem. floated up to her window <?he thought of her happv vonth. when the sift boxes comes so fast that she eonld hardlv count them : when her dear Alplion<e. in his say uniform. was at her side with loving words and tender caresses. But he had gone into the Franco-Prussian war. and she knew that he was dead or he would have found her and redeemed his promise.

Every moment a peal of merry laugh ter or the sof<- strain of a Christmas carol would float up to Ma'm'seiie's window, and she would press her face to the pane, and look down on the streets to see pleasant visions in which she had no part. Hut above all she saw a narrow strip of cold, frosty skv. and the stars burning there as they did in far off Judea so many hundred years ago. and again she cried out in an an euNh of spirit : " Noel ! Noel What was that ? Some one rattled the door, and thinking it might be her poorer neighbour across the way. the art'fieial flower maker, she opened if and looked oir in the hall. A white rose fell at her feet—a Christmas rose that saluted her with its adorable fragrance. Ah. the poor neighbour had been kind to remember her! She called out her thanks in gooil Freti-h and phpiatit English, and again closed her door. But she wa< not sr, sad a< before. Some one thought of her ->n this red letter day of the year, and that was much to her. Then there was a little tap. and Maggie eanie in. leading her sister, and bearing her cherished pre Se-i\ which seemed at that moment a thing of no Conse.|Uet)ee. eXiS-pt for tie- love that inspired ib Ma'm'selle was ._'|ad to see even her little waiting-maid in the loneliness of her Christmas Fv.-. and she watched with tnu'-h interest the opening of the small package which was tied up so nicely. When she saw the gay threecornered object within she gave a wild cry of delight : " Moii I»i»-ii. M'.n Pieit ! It is the har of le grand Napole -n ! It i- the hat of mon cher Napoleon mun -mpereur !" What could have I ne.re suitable than this s gniticant g'f: V the minia ture hat which was a bou-bon l»ux. and

i pin-cushion, and yet had the very air | of the idol of her heart, and was handed I with the tri-colour of France. and adorned with the national cockade. Ma'm'selle was no longer sad. She , laughed and looked young almost as she helped the two -deters to the bonbons. and ate of them herself. And when they loft her eaoh had received a joyous kiss that made merry Christmas in their hearts.

When Maggie went to drop that night, with a little <wter on each side of her. she was very hapnv. and she made haste h> get into the land of j dreams where a big Christmas tree with enough hung on to its sparkling branches fur the whole world awaited her. The joy bells were ringing, too so sweetly at first, then louder, louder, j ami Maggie awoke to hear another kind of be!! the fire bell, and to see a red light that seemed to shine all over the sky.

"Where is it. father?" she nailed through the window. Everybody was out on the sidewalk. " It's the Tempest flats. Cii hack to your bed. girl." Deed T won't." said sturdy Maggie. " Tt s Ma'm'selle'.; fl its, an' I'm going to run there an' bring her home." And she was in her clothes almost as quick as if she had been a fireman herself. I he one good tiling about being poor is that it downs conventionality, and permits a fellow-being to rescue another without being I. So Maggie. who had been used to the streets all her life, had no fear of anything, but ran with all speed to the flats that were now burning furiously from the roof upward, while dense clouds of smoke rolled from the windows. The child ran breathlessly to a fireman —one whom she knew. "Oh. Mr. Murphy, save Ma'tn'selle. save her—she's in that room—that one where the light is " The fireman, followed by two others, made his way up the ladders and into the room. They found Ma'm'selle on her knees praying. To [lick her np and carry her through the window was quick work. A gush of flame reached them from the floor beneath. It burnt Ma'in'selle's yellow hair, and scorched her eyelashes, but she was not conscious of the pain -her mind was distracted, and she constantly screamed : "That hat of Napoleon! Mori Dion. T am ruined! The hat of Napoleon! It has in it my father's cross of the Legion of Honour ! Mon Dieu. I have there all in the world to me." Maggie understood. She did not stop to reason, to ask questions or be hindered. She skimmed up the ladder like a spirit, and info Ma'in'selle's room. Fire and flame were bursting out everywhere. and a great cry went up from the crowd below, followed by a groan. The firemen were dose .after her. and as she struggled to fTie window, dazed by the smoke, they caught her. and pulled her through. Then a great cheer saluted her. " I've got it. Ma'm'selle." she called out. and. clasping the hat of Napoleon firmly, she fainted in the fireman's arms. And she and Ma'm'selle were carried to St. Mar's Hospital side by side as the midnight bells rang out'the birth of Christ, son of David, and King of the World. At the hospital they declared both patients uninjured, but Maggie stayed the night through wilh Ma'm'selle. who was bewildered by the experience, and the loss of her hair, which had shrivelled close to her head, and made her look ten years younger by the absence of hotusually elaborate coiffure. Her eyes and eyebrows needed attention, and as her English was limited they called in the only French doctor in the institution to attend her. Maggie watched the meeting of the two compatriots with much interest, but she was hardly prepared for what she saw—Ma'm'selle embraced franti-

rally by the <trange doctor, while they both talked rapidly in their own tongue. This. then, was the brave Alphonso. of whom Ma'm'selle had hinted so often to hor little maid. And ho was not dead, after all. but alive and well, with a fine social position, and much distinction in his profession—and. bettor still, with a heart unchanged toward his early and onlv sweetheart. Marie Verlaine.

To Margie it was tho most wonderful Christmas of which she had over dreamed. for on flint day she was promoted to t"he office of lady's maid to Madame—no longer Mademoiselle and was always to he railed Marguerite, and wait personally on her beloved mistress. And as her head was not. turned by the Christmas bells and joy bells, the wedding bells and fire bells of that eventful time, we may be sure she proved worthy of her good fortune.