JEANNETTE.
(From the French of Le Fatjbb.)
Eyeby day there came down to the long stone wharf a smiling, fairhaired girl of seven, followed by an old, old man.
The child carried a spy-glass, hugging it in her arms as if it were a doll, »nd she skipped along gaily till she reached the end of the pier. Then ahe handed the long glass to her companion, and resting her chfttfby little hands on the oold stone coping, looked wistfully out at sea.
With the soft breeze blowing her hair about her shoulders, and her «jes fixed searchingly on the horizen she stood perfectly silent until a tiny white speck appeared in the far distance where sea and iky teemed to mingle.
"A sail, a sail I" she cried, and the old man Bat down and laid the spy-glass upon his arm.
Braathless and eager, the child grasped the brass tube with both hands and peered through it without speaking. After a few momenta , however, she said with a sigh of disappointment : " Not yet, grandpa," and returning patiently to her post resumed the watch until another sail appeared.
This was kept up hoar after hoar, aad when the son, a golden ball, bad slipped behind the rising billows, and a soft mist rose from the sea, the child turned round, her little face saddened, and walked slowly away at the old man's side.
One day I spoke to an old sailor and asked him about the child.
" Th,at is Jeannette, 1 ' he said, taking bis short clay pipe from out of his mouth. "Her father was killed eighteen months ago; the mast of his boat fell on him, and since the day his dead body was carried home she has never been the same. She does not think he is dead, and evary afternoon her grandfather has to bring her down here to watch for him."
He tapped his head expressively, and, as a merry langh sounded, a smile of tenderness softened bis ragged features.
I looked up and saw Jeannette coming as usual, carrying the telescope, and skipping gleefully before the old man.
"How sad, how sad I" I murmured with a sigh, but the old sailor shook his head ; putting his pipe into his month hastily be puffed oat a cloud of smoke to hide the tears that had gathered in bis eyes, and answered softly : " God is good. She will never know, so she Will never cease to hope."
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZT18910918.2.42
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Tablet, Volume XIX, Issue 50, 18 September 1891, Page 31
Word Count
412JEANNETTE. New Zealand Tablet, Volume XIX, Issue 50, 18 September 1891, Page 31
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