2G 



THE AMERICAN BEE KEEPER. 



January 



Retire, I beg. If I come to the door of 

 the hut aud say, 'My friends, it is the 

 death' — here her strong voice broke — 

 'then pray — pray for the soul of a brave 

 daughter of France. ' 



"We who had called tlie young sol- 

 dier comradvi and loved or hated hini 

 for his smiling, handsome face cast a 

 strange look upon the silent figure un- 

 der the doctor's hands. We saw with 

 opened eyes and every head was bar^ 

 in an instant, for patriotism and the 

 courage which God himself gives some- 

 times to his weakest commanded our 

 respect as no other earthly attribute 

 might. 



"The doctor, with a gasping sob, 

 turned to us as we drew toward the 

 door of the Lut. 'I loved the youth,' he 

 said. 'I find that I have loved our sis- 

 ter. It is well that you should go — she 

 wishes it — but courage, my brothers, the 

 time has not yet come to say of our 

 brave comrade in arms — may the soul 

 of the faithful departed rest in peace.' 



"Well, monsieur, my arm was takeu 

 off and I did well enough. They ex- 

 tracted that bullet from young Leon's 

 body, aud the doctor kept it. A bit of 

 German lead, of course, but made pre- 

 cious by a countrywoman's blood. They 

 moved us to the house of a wealthy pa- 

 triot, and she lay in the temporary 

 ward among the men, but separated by 

 a screen. My bed was next to it. 



"Cambert came to visit us, clean 

 shaven, and not half so fierce and grim 

 without hit, mustache. When he left, 

 he was weeping like a child. 



"One day I heard Marie Emmanuel 

 talking to the patient behind the screen, 

 aud then I heard the voice of Leoutiue 

 St. Paul. 



' ' ' How shall I face my comrades, ' 

 she said; 'bow meet them, now I no 

 longer dare to wear the dress in which 

 they knew me?' 



"And the vivandiere answered : 'Meet 

 them, dear friend, as the wife of our 

 brave surgeon. He loves you — I have 

 said it. Surely such women as you were 

 meant to bo the mothers of our future 

 heroes. ' ' ' 



"And v\ hat became of Cambert?" I 

 demanded. 



"(Jh, he married," said the old enl- 

 dier. "He has sous and daughters. Per- 

 ha})s he married Marie Emuianml. I 

 have seen liis daughter.' She is vorv 



York 



-Cora Lauglois in New 



Must H:ive Roeii a Loose Screw. 



For several minutes the young man 

 did not speak. I: is heart was too full. 

 It was enough for him to know that this 

 glorious creature loved him; that .she 

 had promis('(] to sbnve his fate. With a 

 new and dc li^litiul sense of ownership 

 he feasted his ^yt■s once more upon her 

 beautj', and as he realized that hence- 

 forth it would be his privilege to pro- 

 vide for her welfare and happiness he 

 could have almost wept with joy. His 

 good fortunt^ seemed iucredible. Final- 

 ly he whispered tenderly: 



"How did it ever happen, darling, 

 that such a bright, shining angel as 

 yourself fell iu love with a dull, stupid 

 fellow like me?" 



"Goodness knows," she murmured 

 absently. "I must have a screw loose 

 KOmewhere."— Pearson's Weekly. 



They Called Him Vanns. 



It is curious how inconsistent are the 

 prejudices of people in regard to the use 

 of heathen names. Mr. Payn, in his 

 "Gleams of Memory," tells an amus- 

 ing story of the late Dean Burgon, who 

 objected to the name of the goddess of 

 beauty, but found no fault with that of 

 the god of the woods. 



An infant was brought to the church 

 for christening, and the name proposed 

 for it was Vanus. " Vanus?" repeated 

 the dean. "I suppose you mean Venus. 

 Do you imagine I am going to call a 

 Christian child by that name, and least 

 of all a male cliild?" 



The father of the infant urged that 

 he only wished to name it after his 

 grandfather. "Your grandfather!" cried 

 the dean. "I don't believe it. Where is 

 your grandfather?" He was produced — 

 a poor old soul cf 80 or so, bent double 

 and certainly not looking in the least 

 like the goddess in question. "Do you 

 mean to telJ me, sir, that any clergy- 

 man ever christened you 'Vanus,' as 

 you call it?" 



"Well, no, sir. I was christened Syl- 

 vanus, but they always calls me 'Va- 

 nus.' " 



A Japuiifc^e si.ying runs. A woman's 

 tongue is ouly six iuches long, but it 

 can kill a u.an six ieet high. 



