"Annette John, aged twenty years"
"So. The daughter of Chief John. When Queen Anne of England was on the throne she sent Chief John’s grandfather a gold cup and a hundred pounds. The girl loved, but would not marry, that she might keep Chief John from drinking. A saint, François! What have they said of her?"
François smoothed out the paper and read:
"A little while I saw the world go by—
A little doorway that I called my own,
A loaf, a cup of water, and a bed had I,
A shrine of Jesus, where I knelt alone:
And now alone I bid the world good-bye."
The Curé turned his head away. "Go on," he said sadly. "Chief John has lost his right hand. Go on."
"Henri Rouget"
"Aged thirty years," again interrupted the Curé. "Henri Rouget, idiot; as young as the morning. For man grows old only by what he suffers, and what he forgives, and what he sins. What have you to say for Henri Rouget, my François?"
And François read:
"I was a fool; nothing had I to know
Of men, and naught to men had I to give.
God gave me nothing; now to God I go,
Now ask for pain, for bread,
Life for my brain: dead,
By God’s love I shall then begin to live."
The priest rose to his feet and put a hand on the young man’s shoulder.
"Do you know, François," he said, half sadly, "do you know, you have the true thing in you. Come often
