THE LOST CHILD.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXVI, Issue 3321, 31 December 1897, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE LOST CHILD.

A FRENCH CHRISTMAS STORY. [By Fbamcois Coffee.] (Translated ly J. Maithewm n.) On that-mormng; -which was the morning before Christmas, two important events happened, simultaneously—the sun rose, and so did M. Jean-Baptiste Godefroy. Unquestionably .the sun, illuminating suddenly the whole of Baris with its morning rays, is an old friend, regarded with affection by everybody. It is particularly welcome after a fortnight of misty atmosphere and gray skies, when the wind has cleared the air and allowed the sun’s rays to reach the earth again. Besides all of which the sun is a person of importance. Formerly he was regarded as a god, and was called Osiris, Apollyon, and I don’t know what else. Bat do not imagine that because the sun is so important he is of greater influence than M. Jean-Baptiste Godefroy, millionaire banker, director of the " Comptoir Gdndral de Credit," administrator of several big companies, deputy and member of the General Council of the Eure, officer of the Legion of Honour, &0., &c. And whatever opinion the sun may have about himself, he certainly has not a higher opinion than M. JeanBaptiste Godefroy. has of himself. So we are authorised to state, and we consider ourselves justified in stating, that on the morning in question, at about a quarter to seven, the sun and M. Jean-Baptiste Godefroy rose. Certainly the manner of rising of these two great powers mentioned was not the same. The good old sun began by doing a great many pretty actions. As the sleet had, during the night, covered the bare branches of the trees in the Boulevard Malesherbes, where the hotel Godefroy is situated, with a powdered coating, the great magician sun amused himself by transforming the branches into great bouquets of red coral. At the same time he scattered his rays impartially on those poor passers-by whom necessity sent out, so early in the morning, to gain their daily bread. He even had a smile for the poor clerk, who, in a thin, overcoat, was hurrying to his office, as well as for the “ grisette," shivering under her thin, insufficient clothing; for the workman carrying a half a loaf under his arm, tor the car.conductor as be punched the tickets, and for the dealer in roast chestnuts, who was roasting his first panful. In short, the sun gave pleasure to everybody in the world. M. Jean-Baptiste Godefroy, on the contrary, rose in quite a different frame of mind. On the previous evening ho had dined with the Minister of Agriculture. The dinner, from the removal of the “potage" to the salad, bristled with truffles, and the banker’s stomach, aged forty-seven years, experienced the burning and biting of pyrosis. So the manner in which M. Jean-Baptiste Godefroy rang for his valet-de-chambro was so expressive, that as he got some warm water for his master’s shaving, Charles said to the kitchen-maid; 1 There he goes ! The monkey Is barbarously ill-tempered again this morning. My poor Gertrude, we’re going to have a miserable day.’ Whereupon, walking on tiptoe, with eyes modestly cast down, he entered the chamber of his master, opened the curtains, lit the fire, and made all the necessary preparations for the toilet, with the discreet demeanour and respectful gestures of a sacristan placing the sacred vessels on the altar for the priest. What sort of weather this morning ? ’ demanded M. Godefroy, cur.ly, as he buttoned his undervest of gray swandown upon a stomach that was. already a little t'qq prominent, - ’ ' ‘ ‘ Very cold, sir,’ replied Charles, meekly. ‘At six o’clock-the thermometer marked 7 degrees above zero. But, as you will see, sir,-thepky is quite clear, and I think We are going to have a fine mPWUg.' Ip stropping bis razor, jd,,jspdefrey approached'the wiudßWjJliexy/asido one of the hangings, looked 'op the boulevard, which was bathed ffi brightness, and made a slight grimace which bore some resemblance to a smile. It is all very well to be perfectly stiff and correct, and to know that it js bad taste to show feeling Qf any kind in the presence of domestics, but the appearance of the roguish sup, in the middle of December, sends such a glow of warmth to the heart that it is impossible to disguise the fact. So M. Godefroy deigned, as before observed, to smile, If sqmepne had whispered to the opulent banker that bis smile had anything in common with that of the printer’s boy, who was enjoying himself by making a slide on the pavement, M. Godefroy' would have been highly incensed. But it really was so, All the same ; and during the space of one minute tills man, who was so occupied by business matters, this leading, light in the financial and political worlds, indulged in the childish pastime of watching the passers-by, and following with his eyes the files of conveyances as they gayly rolled in the sunshine. But pray do not be alarmed. Such a weakness could not last long. People of • jjo account, and those who have nothing tq dP* may h e a ¥° *° their time slip by nothing. 'lt |s veyy well for ■ womep, ’ chfidrepi' ppdts qnd piffiaif. Jf. Godefroy had ,qih e f fi% to'fry ; and the work of the day which was commencing promised to be . exceptionally heavy. From half past. 8 :to 10 o’clock he had a meeting at his office with a certain number of gentlemen; all of whom bore a striking resemblance to M. Godefroy. Like him,’they wCrefvery nervous ; they had risen with the sun, they were all P blasps," and they all had the same object |n! gab?' hjbupylv After breakfast [whiph. M. Godefroy had'tq leap idtp' Ifia carpjagparid rush to the Bourse to exchange ’g,:fejy words with other.gentlemen who Had also risen at dawn, but who had not the least of imagination among thorn. (The conversations wore-always- on - the sanjc there, without Iqsipg qn'instant,'kl. fj-odetroy went to preside pver another meeting of acquaintances eptirely void of compassion and tenderness. The meeting W<V 3 held ropnd a baize-covered table, which was Strewn with heaps of papers and well provided With ink-wells. The conversation again turned on money, and various methods of gajning it. After -the aforesaid meeting h,e, |jji his capacity of deputy,’ had to appear before bpygml commissions (always held In rooms where'there were bfj-jze-covered tables and ink-wells and heaps' of papers).' There ho found men as devoid of sentiment as ,ho—all incapable of neglecting any occasion of gaining money. After having quickly shaved he donned g mQfP(ug su]t, the elegant cut and finish of' w“*cb thgr tlje bid bequ of pearly fifty bad hot' ceased trying to pipasb, Wl)e° he slaved he spared tire nayrpw strip pf poper-and-sa)t beard round his chin, as jt gave hitp the aip of a trustworthy family man in the eyes' of theArrogonts and fools in general. Then ho descended to his cabinet, where ho received the file of men who were entirely occupied by one thought—augmenting capital. i ■ Th e S ß gontlemen disoussed several projected entprp?ioPSr)sof'ih o W °* consider-, able importance, notably t||at of a ; new railroad to be laid-across a wild desert. Another scheme was for the founding of monster, works in l the environs of Paris, another of a mine tu be worked in one of

the South American republics,' It goes without saying that no one asked it the railway would have passengers or goods to'carry, or it the proposed works should manufacture cotton nightcaps or. distill whiskey; whether the mine was to be of virgin gold or of seepnd-rate copper; certainly not. The-conversation' of iM. Godbfray’s morning callers -tumediexdhi: sively upon the profits which it would bo ■ possible to realize, daring -the week which should'-follow the t issue ’ of’ the, sharps. They discussed particularly the value of the shares, which they knew wonldi.be. destined before long to be worth leas-than the paper on which they were printed.> : : These conversations, ■ bristling",-with fjgufe?, fasfed. till lO- o’clock^*precisely, and. thep tlje, director ' of -the 1 Goiiiptoir G<sndraJ <je Credit; lyhq Jjyfbe way," was an honest man—at least at honest g.s is 'to be found in ducted his last visitor to the head of the stairway. The visitor-namedwas on old villain, as rich as Croesus, who,-by a not uncommon chance, enjoyed the. general esteem of the public; whereas, had justice been done to him, he would have noon Iqdging at the expense of the State in one pf ttyose largo establishments provided by a thoughtful government; for smaller delinquents ; and there he would have pursued a useful and healthy, calling fpr a lengthy period; the exact length having been’fifed; the' Judges-, of thf Supremo Court But If. Qodejtroy showed -him- out relentlessly, notwithstanding his importance—it was absolutely necessary to he at jthe Bourse at IX o clock—and - went into the dining-room. , , ... Jt was a luxuriously furnished room. The - furniture and plate - would have ; -served to endow ’a- cathedral. Nevertheless, notwithstanding that sf. Gpdetroy

took a gulp of bicarbonate of soda, his indigestion refused to subside, consequently the banker could only take the scantiest breakfast—that of a dyspeptic. In the midst of such luxury, and under the eye of a well-paid butler, M. Godefroy could only eat a couple of boiled eggs, and nibble a little mutton chop. The man of money trifled with dessert—took only a crumb of Roquefort— not more than two cents’- worth... XhanJhsMoor -opened and an overdressed but charming little childyoung Raoul, four years old —the son of the company the room, accompanied by his Geiaian nurs erygoverness. - - „

This event occurred every day at the same hour—a quarter to eleven j precisely, while the carriage which was to take the banker to the Bourse was awaiting the gentleman who had only a quarter of an hour to give to paternal sentiment. It was not that he did not love his son. He did love him —nay, he adored him, in his own way. But then, you know, business is business. At the age of forty-two, when already worldly-wise and blase, ho had fancied himself in love with the daughter of one of his club friends—Marquis de Neufontaiae, an old rascal—a nobleman, but one whose card-playing was more than open to Suspicion, and who would have been expelled from the club more than once, but for the influence of M. Godefroy. The nobleman was only too glad to become the father-in-law of a man who would pay his debts, and without any scruples he handed over his daughter—a simple and ingenuous child of seventeen, who was taken from the convent to be married —to the worldly banker. The girl was certainly sweet and pretty, but she had no dowry except numerous aristocratic prejudices and romantic illusions, and her father thought he was fortunate in getting rid of her on such favourable terms. M. Godefroy, who was the son of an avowed old miser of Andely, had always remained a man of the people, and intensely vulgar. In spite of his improved circumstances, he had not improved. His entire lack of tact and refinement was painful to his young wife, whose tenderost feelings he ruthlessly and thoughtlessly' -trampled upon. Things were looking unpromising, ■when, happily for her, Madame Godefroy died in giving birth to her first-born. When he spoke of his deceased wife, the banker waxed poetical, although, had she lived, they would have been divorced in six months. His son he loved dearly for several reasons —first, because the child was an only son; secondly, because he was a soioh of two such houses as Godefroy and Noufontaine ; finally, because the man of money had naturally great respect for the heir to many millions. So the yooungster had golden rattles,' and other similar toys, and as brought up like a young Dauphin. But his father, overAthelmcd with business worries, could never give the child more than fifteen minutes per day of his precious time—and, as on the day mentioned, it was always during ‘ cheese ’ —and for the rest of the day the father abandoned the child to the care of the servants. ‘ Qopd-morning, Raoul.' t Good-monpng, papa.’ And the company director, having put' fiis serviette away, sat young Raoul on his left knee, took the child’s head between his big paws, and in stroking and kissing it actually forgot all his money matters and eoen his note of the afternoon, which was of great importance to him, as by it he could gain quite an important amount of patronage. ‘ Papa,’ said .little Raoul, suddenly, ‘will Father Christmas put anything in my shoe to-night ?’ r The father answered with ‘ Yes, if you are a good child.’ This was very striking from a man who was a pronounced freethinker, who also applauded every anticlerical attack in the Chamber with a vigorous ‘ Bear, hear.’ He made a mental note that he must buy some toys for his child that very afternoon. Then he turned to the nursery governess with—- ‘ Are . you quite satisfied with Raoul, Afadenjoiselle Bertha ?’ ■ Bertha became as red as n peohy at • being addressed,' as if the question were-BOarcCly -comma il /ant, and replied by a little Imbecile snigger. ‘lt’s fine to-day,' said the financier, ‘ but cold. If you take Raoul to Monceau Park, mademoiselle, please bo careful to Wrap him up well, Mademoiselle, by a second fit of idiotic smiling, having set at rest M. Godefroy's doubts and fears on that essential point, he kissed his child, left the room hastily, and in the hall was enveloped in his furcoat by Charles, who alsq closed the carriage door. Then the faithful fellow went qff to the cafe which he frequented, Rue do Miromesnil, where he had pro, mised to meet the coachman of- the baroness who lived opposite, to play a gaipe of billiards, §0 up —-and spot-barred, of course, - * • ! " - Thanks tp the b/own bay—for .winch a thousand francs over and above its value was paid by M. Godefroy as a result of a sumptuous snail supper given to that gentleman’s coachman by the horsedealer—thanks to the expensive brown bay, which certainly went well, the financier was able to get through his many engagements satisfactorily. He appeared punctually at the Bourse, eat at several committee tables, and at a quarter to 5, by voting with the Ministry, he helped to reassure France and Europe .that the rumours of a Ministerial crisis had beep ’ totally unfounded. He voted tyitn' ’’the Ministry because fie hacf succeeded i®. obtafning ! the favours which he demanded as the'pride of his yotei -- After he had thus nobly fulfilled his ; duty to himself:, and his country, M. Godefroy remembered what hd had said, to his child on the subject of Father: Christmas, and gave his coachman the address of a dealer in toys. There he , bought, and had put in his carriage, ja. fantassio ' rooking- horse, mounted oh

!d castors —p whip in each ear ;' a box of w loacjeri ■; soldiershritlL as exactly alike as 10 those grenadiers qf.th* Russian regiment st of the time of Paul 1., who all had'black ie hair and snub noses; and a score qf other i 6 toys, all equally striking - and costly, it Then, as he‘returned home, softly reposp ing in his well-swung carriage, the rich t- banker, who, aftpr- all, was a father,'began d to thinlf with pride of hjs litfcjo boy and d to form plans for)ns future, q - W!}°U pWI4 grpw - UP hesshould d have an education worthy roßac prince, n and ho would bo one, too; for there was if no. longer any aristocracy except that of g money, and his boy would have a capital 0 of about 30,000,000 francs. If his father, s a pettifogging provincial lawyer, who had fprmerjy dined ip the Latin Quarter when 'I in'Paris, who had remarked'eyery even--1 ing when putting'oh a white tie that he f looked os fine as if he were going to a ’• wedding—if he had been able to aocumuI late an enoriSoua fortune, and tot become i thereby a power in the republic; if. he f had bpen to obtain in niarriage a 3 young }ady, one of whose ancestor? bad 5 fa)lop at Mqiiguqn, qu important 1 personage little'Raoul might liecoiqei. M. ■ Godefroy built all sorts'qf air-caqtle? for i- his boy, 1 forgettjng that Christmas is the ) birth tjayof q vefy poor little of)il(}, ?°n pf > a' ! oouplo of vagrants, borq jn q stable, ’ where the parents only, found lodging ; throngh charity. : v . . In the midst of the banker’s dreams the coachman cried ‘Door, please,’ and drove into the yard. As he went up the . steps M. Godefroy was thinking that he hpd k a fely"tioje to dress for dinner ; hut | on'eptejring ibo vestibule lie fopnd all the domestics crowded in front qf hini in q : state of alarm and cqnfusipq,. Jn! ,a corner, crouphing on a spat, was the German nursery governess, crying. When she saw the banker she buried her face in her hands and wept still “more copiously ■ than before. If. Godefroy felt that some misfortune had happened. ; ‘ What’s the meaning of all this? What’s amiss ? .What has happened ?’ Charles,'the valet de chambre, a sneak- . ing- rascal of the worst typo, looked at ins master with eyes full of pity and stammered — '. ' J Mr Raoul ’ - ■ '■My boy ?’ ' "^libSt.ißir.' Tho stupid German did it. Since 4 o’clock this afternoon he has not been seen.” ..Tho .father- staggered back like one -who had been hit by a ball. The German threw herself at his feet screaming, | ‘ Morcyi' mercy 1 and the domestics, all ; gpoke at tlje same time. . ‘ Bertha didn’t gq tq .“ Pare Moneeau.” She lost the'child over there qn the fqrti- j Sections. Wo have sought him all over, sir. We wont to the office for you, sir, ; and then to the Chamber, but you had ( just left. Just imagine, the . German has 1 a rendezvous with her lover every day, 1 c ■beyond tho ramparts, near the gats of ' Asincres. What-a shame! - It is a piece x full of low gypsies and 'strolling players. 1 Perhaps the child has been stolen'. Yes, a sir, we informed the police at one! Bow c could we imagine such a thing 1: A 5 hypocrite, that German ! ' She had a a rendevous, with a countryman j h=-a Prussian spy, sure enough 1” I ... His son lost! M. Gjdorroy seemed to ■have a torrent of blood rushing through his head. He sprung at Mademoiselle, s seized her by the arms and ’ shook ■ her j h furiously. . 'Where did you lose him, you miser? t<

able girl ? Tell mo the truth before I shake you to pieces. Do you hear ? Do you hear ?' But the girl could only cry and beg for mercy.

The banker tried to be calm. No, it Was impossible. Nobody would dare to steal his boy. Somebody would find him and bring him back. Of that there could be “ho doubt. He could scatter money right-arid left! ond-oould-have rho-eutire-poliee force at his orders.- • And he would_ set 'to work at once, for not an .instant" should be lost. _ .... ‘ Charles, don’t let the horses be taken out. You others, see that this girl doesn't escape, I’m going to the Prefecture.’ And M. Godefroy, with his heart thumping against his sides as if it would break them, his hair wild with fright, darted into his carriage, which at once rolled off as fast as the horses could take it. What irony! The carriage was full of glittering playthings, which sparkled every time a gaslight shone on them. ‘ My- poor little Raoul 1 Poor darling! Where is my boy ?’ repeated the father as in his anguish ho dug his nails into the cushions of the carriages. At that moment all his titles and decorations, his honours, his millions, were valueless to him. Ho had one idea burning in his brain. ‘My poor child! Where is my child?' At last he reached the Prefecture of Police. But no one was there —the office had been deserted for some time. ‘ I am M. Godefroy, deputy from L’Eure . . . My little boy is lost in Paris ; a child of four years. I must see the Perfect.’ He slipped a lords into the hand of the concierge. The good old soul, a veteran with a gray moustache, less for the sake of the money than out of compassion for the poor father, led him to the Perfect’s private apartments. M. Godefroy was finally ushered into the room of the man in whom were centred all his hopes. Ho was in evening dress and wore a monocle; his manner was frigid and rather preton--tious. The distressed father, whose knees trembled through emotion, sank into a armchair, and bursting into tears, told of the loss of his boy—told the story stammeringly and with many breaks, for his voice was choked by sobs.. The Perfect, who was also the father of a family, was inwardly moved at the

sight of his visitor’s grief, but he repressed his emotion anti assumed a cold and selfimportant air. - ‘ You say, sir, that your child has, been missing since 4 o’clock.' ‘ Yes.'

1 Just when night was falling, confound it. He isn't at all precocious, speaks very little, doesn’t know where he lives, and can’t even pronounce his own name?’ ■ ‘ Unfortunately that is so.’ ‘Not far from Asnieres' gate ? A suspected quarter. But cheer up. We have a very intelligent Commissaire; de Police there. I’ll telephone to him.’ The distressed father was left alone for five minutes. How his temples throbbed and hie heart beat I Then, suddenly the Perfect reappeared, smiling with satisfaction, ‘ Pound!’ jjJVhereppon M-, Godefroy rushed to the Perfect, whose hand he pressed until that functionary winced with the pain. ‘I must acknowledge that we were exceedingly fortunate. The little chap is' blond, isn’t he ? Rather pale ? In blue velvet ? Black felt hat, with a white feather in it ?’ ‘Yes, yes; that’s he. That’s my little Raoul.’ , ■ , , ■■ •• ‘ Well, he’s at the house of a poor fellow down in that quarter who has just been at the police office to make, his'declaration to the Commissaire. Here’s his address, which'. I took down: “Pierron, Rue des Oailloux, Levallois-Perret." With good horses ’yqq may reach your hoy in legs - than an" hour. Certainly you won’t find him in an aristocratic quarter; his surroundings won’t be :of the highest. The man who, found him is only a small dealer in vegetables.’ ' , But. that was of no importance to Godefroy, , who,' having expressed his gratitude to the Prefect, leaped down the Stgiys font at atime, and-sprang into his carriage. At that moment he realised how devotedly he loved his child. As he drove away he no longer thought of little Raoul’s. princely education and magnificent inheritance. Ho was decided never again to hand over the child entirely to the hands of servants, and he also made op his. mind to devote loss time to monetary matters and the glory of Prance and attend more to hjs own. The thought also occurred to him that'Prance wouldn’t be likely to suffer from the noglept. He had hitherto been ashamed to recognise the existence of an old-maid sister., of his father, hut he decided to send for her to come to his house.- She would- certainly shock.his lackeys by her. primitive manners and ideas. But what of. that ? She would take oaro of his hay, which to him was of much more importance than - the good opinion of his servants. The financier, who was always in. a HUrry, never felt ’Bo eager to arrive punctually at a committee meeting as he was to reach the lost little one. For the first time'in his life ho was longing through pure affection to take the child in his arms • ■ The carriage rolled rapidly along in the clear, crisp night air down Boulevard Maleshcrber; and, having crossed the ramparts and passed the largo houses, plunged into the quiet solitude of suburban streets. When the carriage stopped, M. Godefroy saw a wretched hovel, on which was the number he was seeking; it was thehouse where Pierron lived. The door qf the house' opened immediately, and a • big,-rough-looking fellow with red mustache appeared. One of his sleeves was empty. Seeing the gentleman in the carriage, Pierron said, cheerily r “ So you are the little one’s father. Don't bo afraid. The little darling is quite safe," .and, stopping aside in. order to allow M. Godefroy to pass, he placed his-finger on his lips with : “ Hush 1 The little one is asleep." ' ’ . ' Yes, it was a real hovel. By the dim light qf a little oil lamp M. Godefroy could just distinguish a dresser fyom whiph a drawer was missing, some, broken chairs, a round table on which stood a beer-mug which was half empty, three glasses, some cold'meat on a plate, and on the bare plaster of the wall twq gaudy pictures—-a bird’s-eye view of the Exposition of 1880, with the Eiffel tqwer in. bright blue, and the portrait of General Boulanger when, a handsome young lieutenant. This last evidence of weakness of the tenant of the House may well bo excused, since it was shared by nearly everybody in Franco. The man took the lamp and went on tiptoe to the comer: of the room where, on a clean bed, two little fellows were fast asjepn. In the little qne, around whom the other had thrown a protecting arm, M. Godefroy recognized his son. ‘.The youngsters were tired to death, and so sleepy,’ said Pierron, trying to soften his rough voice. : 1 had no idea when you would conic, so gave them some supper and put them to bed, and. then I. went tq make a declaration at the police office. Zidore generally sleeps up in : the garret, but I thought they would be better here, I should fie better able to yyatph tjicm,’ ; ■■■■■■ M. Godefroy, however, scarcely heard the explanation. Strangely moved, he looked at the two sleeping infants ; on an iron bedstead and covered with an old blanket which had once been used either in barracks or , hospital.. Little Raoul, who was still in his velvet suit, looked so frail and delicate. compared with his companion, that the banker almost envied the latter his brown complexion. . * ‘ la he yourlioy 9-’.he asked PiorronV --

‘ No,’answered be, 1 J am a. bachelor, and don't snpppse I shall over marry .because of my accident. You see,.a- dray •passed over my arm —that wafrall. Two , years ago a neighbour of mine died, when that child was only five years old. • The poor'mother really died of -starvation. She wove wreaths for the cemeteries, but could make nothing Worth mentioning at that trade—not, enough, to live. How: ever, she "worked, for the ..child for' five years, and .then the neighbours-had. to buy wreaths.for .her. So I took cate; of the youngster.-. Oh,; it was nothing much, and I was soon repaid. He. is seven years old, and is a sharp little fellow,' so he- helps me a great. deal. On. Sundays and Thursdays, and the other days after school, he helps me .push my .handcart. Zidoro is a smart little’chap. It was he who found - your hoy." . ‘ , ‘ What I’ exclaimed M. Godefroy—-‘. that child 1’ ‘ Oh, he's quite a little man, I assure you. When he loft school he found your child, who was walking on ahead, crying like a fountain. Ho spoke to-him and comforted him, like an old grandfather. The difficulty is, that one can't easily understand what your little one says-—-English words are mixed up with German, and French. So we couldn’t get' much out of him, nor could we learn his address.' Eidore brought him to me—l wasn’t for away; and then all.the old women in the ’ place came round chattering and . croak: like so many frogs, and all full of advice.? . -■ ‘ :.‘ Tako-hun to the police,” ’ said some., ‘ But galore protested... “ That .would’ ■ scare him,” said he, for, like all Parisians,' ha had no particular. lilting for the police besides, your little one didn’t wish to leave bioq. So I came back here with

the children as soon as I could. They had supper, and then off to bed. Don't they look sweet ■>’ . \ When he was in his carriage, M. Godefroy had decided to,, reward the finder of his child handsomely—to give him a handful of that gold so easily gained. Since entering the house he had seen a side of human nature with which he was formerly unacquainted—the bravo charity -oi.tho.poor in-iheir-misery.—The gaarftge of the poor girl, who diad worked herself; to-Heath weaving tWeaths to" keep Eer child ; the generosity of the poor cripple in adopting the orphan; arid-aboVe* all, ' the intelligent goodness of the little street Arah in protecting the child who was still smaller than himself—all this touched M. Godefroy deeply and set him reflecting. For the thought had occurred to him ’that there were other cripples who needed to be looked after as well as Pierron, and other orphans as well as Zidoro. He also debated whether it would not be better to employ his time looking after them, and whether money might not be put to a better use than merely gaining money. Such was his reverie as he stood looking at the two sleeping children. Finally, ho turned round.to study the features of the greengrocer, and was charmed by the loyal.expression in the face of the man, and his clear, truthful eyes. ‘My friend,’ said M. Godefroy, ‘ you and your adopted son have rendered me an: immense service. I shall soon prove to you that I am not ungrateful. But, for to-day—l see. you are not in comfortable circumstances, and I should like to leave a small proof of my thankfulness.’ But the hand of the cripple arrested that of the banker, which was diving intohis coat-pocket where he kept bank notes. ‘No, sir; no I Anybody else would have done just as wo have done. I will not accept any recompense; but pray don’t take offence. Certainly, I am not rolling in wealth, but please excuse my pride—that of an old soldier ; I have the Tonquin medal—and I don't wish to eat food which I haven’t earned. ‘As you like,’ said the financier; ‘ but ail old soldier like you is capable of something better; 1 You are too good to push a handcart. I will make some arrangement for you, never fear.’ . The cripple responded by a quiet smile, and said, coldly: “ Well, sir, if you really wish to do something for me— —’ ‘ Y’oull let me care for Zidoro, won’t you ? ’ cried M. Godefroy, eagerly, his heart intent on this new pleasure of really helping others. ‘That I will,, with the greatest of pleasure,’ responded Pierron, joyfully.; ‘ I have often thought about the child’s future. He is a sharp little fellow. His teachers are delighted with him.’ Then Piorron suddenly stopped, and an expression came over his face which M. Godefroy at once interpreted as one of distrust. The thought evidently was—‘Oh, when he has left us he’ll forget us entirely; that is the way of.these rich people.’ ■ . ‘ You can safely pick the child up in your arms and lake him to the carriage. He’ll be better at home than here,'of course; ' Oh, you needn't be afraid of disturbing him. He is fast asleep, and you can just pick him up. Ho must have his shoes on first, though/ . Following Pierron’s glance, M. Godefroy perceived on the hearth, where a scanty coke fire was dying out, two pairs of children’s shoes the elegant ones of Raoul, and the rough ones of Zidoro. Each pair contained a little toy and a package of bonbons.

‘ Don’t think about that,’ said Pierron in an abashed tone. ‘ Zidore put the shoes there. You know children still believe in Christmas and the child Jesus, whatever scholars may say about fables; so as I came back from the Commissaire, as I didn’t know whether your hoy would have to stay here to-night, I got those things for them both.’ - ... At which the eyes of M. Godefroy, the freethinker, the hardened capitalist, and hlasi man of the world, filled with tears, He rushed but qf the house, but,returned in q m'nuta with his arms toll of tfie superb mechanical horse, the box of leaden soldiers, and the rest of the costly playthings brought by him in the afternoon, and which had not. even, been taken out of the carriage., ..... ‘ My friend, my doqr friend,’ said ho to the greengrocer, ‘see these are the, presents which Christmas has brought to my little Raoul. I want him to find them here, when he and to share them with Zidore, who will hence-: forth he his playmate and friend.. You'll trust me now, won't you ? I’ll take care both of Zidoro and of you, and then I shall ever remain in your debt, for not only have you found my boy, but-you have also reminded me, who am rich- and lived only for myself, that there are other pqor who need to he looked after, I swear by these two sleeping children I won’t forget them any longer.’ ' ; Such is the miracle which happened on the 24th of December-of last year, ladies and gentlemen,.at-Paris,-in the full flow of - modern egotism. It doesn’t sound likely—that I own ; and I am compelled to attribute this- miraculous event to the influence of the Divine child-who came 1 down' .to earth nearly • nineteen centuries ago to command men. to love one another-. • ;, >