the Virgin to cure their father. "Mother of God, Virgin
compassionate, send down thine Angel and cure our sick father. Our
mother will then be happy, and we, Blessed Virgin, will love and praise
thee for ever."

The Virgin hears their prayer, and the father is cured. A woman opens
the door of a neighbouring house and exclaims joyously, "Poor little
ones, death has departed. The poison of the fever is counteracted, and
your father's life is saved. Come, little lambs, and pray to God with
me." They all three kneel and pray by the side of the good father
Hilaire, formerly a brave soldier, but now a mason's labourer. This ends
the first part.

The second begins with a description of morning. The sun shines through
the glass of the casement mended with paper, yet the morning rays are
bright and glorious. Little Abel glides into his father's room. He is
told that he must go to the house of his preceptor to-day, for he must
learn to read and write. Abel is "more pretty than strong;" he is to
be an homme de lettres, as his little arms would fail him if he were to
handle the rough stones of his father's trade. Father and son embraced
each other.

For a few days all goes well, but on the fourth, a Sunday, a command
comes from the master mason that if Hilaire does not return to his work
to-morrow, his place shall be given to another. This news spreads dismay
and consternation among them all. Hilaire declares that he is cured,
tries to rise from his bed, but falls prostrate through weakness. It
will take a week yet to re-establish his health.

The soul of little Abel is stirred. He dries his tears and assumes the
air of a man; he feels some strength in his little arms. He goes out,
and proceeds to the house of the master mason. When he returns, he is no
longer sorrowful: "honey was in his mouth, and his eyes were smiling." He
said, "My father, rest yourself: gain strength and courage; you have the
whole week before you. Then you may labour. Some one who loves you will
do your work, and you shall still keep your place." Thus ends the second
part.

The third begins: "Behold our little Abel, who no longer toils at the
school-desk, but in the workshop. In the evenings he becomes again a
petit monsieur; and, the better to deceive his father, speaks of books,
papers, and writings, and with a wink replies to the inquiring look of
his mother (et d'un clin d'oeil repond aux clins des yeux de sa mere).
Four days pass thus. On the fift