THE OREGON SUNDAY JOURNAL .PORTLAND, SUNDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 24, 1911
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O
NCE upon a timeit happened bo long ago that
the date baa been forgotten in one ol those
cities of Europe with names too hard to
pronounce, there was an orphan boy named
Wolff. He was only 7 years old, and he lived with a
miserly, hard old aunt, who kissed the poor little
fellow only on New Year's day. Every time she
gave him his bowl of soup she heaved a sigh of
anguish.
Bui little Wolff was born with so much love in
his heart that he liked her in spite of everything,
even while he waa afraid of her and always trembled
when hli glance fell on the big wart, ornamented with
four gray hairs, she wore on the end of her nose.
The old woman didn't dare send him to the school
for the poor children; people knew she. was too rich
for that. But she drove such a close bargain for his
education, and discounted everything so meanly, that
the schoolmaster was always vexed at this 111-olad,
unprofitable pupil. So, many a time, little Wolff was
punished without deserving it; and the master's spite
et all his schoolmates against him. They were the
one of well-to-do people, and they made the orphan
their butt. Is it any wonder that the poor child waa
t
rWhy, big as that,
fTwo 8tufted lurkeys, Garrlgou!"
I "Yes, father, two magnificent turkeys,
1 stuffed with truffles. I know something
about it, because I helped stuff them. You
eoulU almost say the skin was going to burst, it is'
so tender."
"You don't sayT And I love truffles so much,
Quick, give me my surplice, Garrlgou! And along
witn the turkeys, what else did you see in the
kitchen?"
"Oh, all sorts of good things. From noon we have
been doing nothing else but plucking pheasants,
heathercocks, and other fowls. The air was fairly
filled with the flying feathers. Then, from the pond
we brought a lot of eels, and golden earp, and trout,
and"
"And how big were the trout, Garrlgou?
"Why, big as that, father, enormous."
"Gracious, it seems to me that I actually see them.
wave you put the altar wine in the flagons, Gar
rlgou?" "Yes, father, I put the wine in the flagons, but
you can be assured it isn't as good as that you are
going to drink when you are through with the mid
night mass. If you could only see what's In the
dining room at the castle all those carafes, which
fairly beam, full of wine of all colors, and the silver
ware, and the engraved casters, and the flowers in
the candelabra I don't believe that we've ever seen
such a Christmas banquet as it will be. The marquis
has invited all the gentlemen of the neighborhood
to attend. There will be at least forty at table,
without counting the mayor and the notary. Oh.
you are going to have a good time as one of them,
father. Why, from Just having smelled those beauti
ful turkeys, the odor of them appears to chase me
everywhere Meuh!"
"That'll do, my boy, that'll do. Let us keep our
selves from the sin of gluttony, above all on the
night of the Nativity, Now, go and light the altar
candles, and ring the bell for the first mass, be
cause It is nearly midnight, and it won't do. for us
to be any way late." -.
This conversation took place on a Christmas eve
of the year of .grace one thousand six hundred and
so many, between the Rev. Don Balaguere, formerly
friar of the order of the Barnabltes, and just now
raid chaplain of the Lord of Trlnquelague, and his
Ittle clerk, Garrlgou, or at the least, whom he be
lleved to be his little clerk , Garrlgou; for you- know
that the devil that evening had assumed the round
face and the gentle bearing of the young? sacristan,
In order to lead the reverend father into temptation,
and to induce him to be guilty of the fearful sin
of gluttony. v '
Now, while the -pretended Garrlgou. with all the
strength that was In his arms, made the bells of the
lordly chapel ring, his reverence finished clothing
Mmlf In his altar garments In the little sacrlstv
f the chateau, while his spirit already troubled
The,
JEL my,, .fit y
"Set it down beside the sleeping child."
unhappy when Christmas time came, or that he hid
himself and crledT
It was the eve of the eventful day. The master
took his pupils to the beautiful midnight mass. That
was a cold winter, and snow had been falling for
days. The boys arrived, all muffled up, their big fur
caps pulled down over their ears, double and triple
waistcoats guarding their bodies, their hands covered
with warm woolen gloves, their feet in good, stout
shoes. But little Wolff had to arTpear In his ordinary
clothes and short Strasbourg socks, that went into'
heavy, wooden shoes.
His malicious schoolmates were quick to observe
his peasant garb and his wretchedness. iThey mocked
him In a thousand ways. But he was too busy blowing
some warmth into his cold Angers to notice them; and
; at last the troop of little rascals two by two, the
master in the lead, started for the parish church.
All was beautiful within that holy place, resplen
dent with its lighted candles; but the boys, excited by
the delicious warmth, took advantage of the solemn
anthems and the deep tones of the organ to talk under
their breath. They boasted of the Christmas they were
going to have at homo. The burgomaster's son had
seen, before he came away, an enormous goose, its
breast spotted black with truffles, like the back of a
leopard. At the home of the leading alderman there
was a tree standing in its own box, the branches
loaded with oranges, candies and toys. And the
notary's cook had fastened In back of her. with a pin,
Devil Cudisthaj
father, enormous!'"
by the gastronomlo stories lib had heard, kept re
peating to himself;
"Roast turkeys, golden carp, and trout as big as
that "
Outside the night wind blew strong, scattering
the music of the bells, and gradually lights appeared
through the shadows on the sides of Mount Veritoux,
on the top of which rose the old towers of Trlnque
lague castle. These wefe the families of the farmers
and peasants, who came to hear the midnight mass
in the chapel of the chateau. They climbed up the
mountain, singing meanwhile, in groups of five or
six, the father In the lead with a lantern in his
hand, the women enveloped In their large brown
mantles, to which the children either clung or by
which they sheltered themselves. Notwithstanding
the hour and the cold, all these good people marched
Joyfully, sustained by the Idea that on coming out of
the mass there would be for them, as had been the
case every year, a table set down in the kitchen.
From time to time, up the rude road, came the
carriage of a nobleman, preceded by torch carriers,
who made Its bright glasses flash In the moonlight.
Or a mule came by, agitating its bells, and, with the
light of the pine torches enveloped in fog, the farm
ers recognized ' their mayor, and saluted him In
passing.
"Good evening, good evening, Master Arnoton."
"Good evening, good evening, my children."
The night was clear, ana the stars sparkled
through the chill air. A sharp breeze was stirring,
and a fine hall, falling on the vestments without
dampening them, faithfully maintained the tradition
of a white Christmas. Above them, at the top of
the hill, appeared the chateau, with its enormous
mass of towers and of gables, the spire of Its chapel
mounting in the blue black sky, while a number of
little lights seemed to wink, going and coming and
appearing at all the windows, resembling, on the
sombre background of the building, sparks running
among the ashes of burnt paper. Having passed the
drawbridge and the postern, it was necessary, to get to
the chapel, to pass through the first court, already full
of carriages, of valets and of chair bearers, all lit up
by the fire of the torches and by the reflected flames
from the kitchens.
There was heard the rattling of turnspits, the
clash of pots and pans, glass vessels striking against
each other, and the sound of silverware moving here
and there, in the active preparations for the coming
repast. Above it all was a warm -vapor, filled with
the odor of roasted flesh and of aromatic herbs and'
of complicated sauces, which made the' farmer say,
as the chaplain had said, and as the mayor said, and
' as everybody said: "What a fine time we are going
to have after the mass!"
II
DONG, dong, dongl Dong, dong, dong!
Ths cessation of the sound of the bells
announces? that the midnight mass has com
menced. In the chapel of the chateau, m real
cathedral in miniature, with crossed arches and wood
two strings of her cap. something she did only on
, her Inspired days, when she felt sure that the dessert
was going to be something exquisite.
Then they whispered of the things Santa Claus
would bring them; of the gifts he would put In their
shoes, which you must take good care to leave at the
fireplace when you go to bed. In the eyes of those
rogues, wide awake as a handful of mice, there glis
tened the delight of beholding, in the morning, the
rosy bags of candles, the soldiers all standing at at
tention in their box, the menageries of wooden
animals that felt of the varnish, the magnificent jump-Ing-Jacks
dressed in their tinsel and purple.
But little Wolff, for hie part, knew perfectly well
that his old miser of an aunt would send him to bed
without any supper. Still, remembering how Indus
trious and stadlous he had been the whole year, he
innocently hoped, that Santa Claus would not. forget,'
him; and he made up his mind, when the time came, to
set his wooden shoes in the ashes on the hearth.
The mass ended, the congregation dispersed, all
impatience for the midnight meal that was to follow;
and the schoolboys, still two by two, their master in
the lead, passed out from the church.
Under the porch, seated on a stone bench with an
oval niche, a child was sleeping, a child wearing a
white woolen robe, but with his feet bare in spite of
the cold. It was no beggar boy, for his garment was
good and new; and beside him on the ground lay the
hatchet, the saw, the square and the other tools car
ried by a carpenter's apprentice. Revealed by the light
of the stars, his face, though his eyes were closed, Ilad
an expression of divine sweetness, and his long, fair,
curling hair seemed to glow like a halo about his
head. But the child's feet, blue with the cold of that
cruel December night, were pitiful to see. ,'
The schoolboys, all bundled and wrapped, for the
wintry air, passed with Indifference the unknown
child; some of them, sons of the town's blgbugs, flung
upon the vagabond glances filled with the scorn of
the rich for the poor, of the plump for tfle hungry.
But little .Wolff, coming last out of the church,
stopped before the sleeping child, all startled.
"Oh!" he cried. "This is terrible. The poor little
fellow, going without shoes In weather like this! What
is worse, he hasn't a boot or a shoe to set beside him,'
While he is sleeping, for Santa Claus to put something
in that might console his wretchedness.'-,
Urged by his good heart, Wolff took off the wooden
shoe from his right foot, set It down beside the sleep
ing child, and, as well as he could, hopping sometimes
on one foot and again limping and wetting his short
sock in the snow, made his way back to the house of
his aunU
"oh- yu good-for-nothing!" cried the old woman,
full of fury at his return almost barefoot. "'What have
you done with your shoe, you wretch?"
Little Wolff did not know how to lie. He trembled
with terror as he stared at the gray hairs bristling up
on the end of the old vixen's nose; but he tried, stam-
work of oak mounting up to the very top of the walls,
tapestries have been stretched everywhere, and all the
candles have been lit. And what a crowdl And such
toilettes!
Take notice, first, seated In the sculptured stalls
which surround the choir, the lord of Trlnquelague,
in a habit of salmon taffeta, and near him all the
noble gentlemen whom he had Invited to be present.
Opposite, on a prayer stool garnished with velvet,
were the old dowager marquise, in a robe of crimson
brocade, and the young mistress of Trlnquelague,
with headdress of a high tower of lace, trimmed In
the latest mode of the court of France. Further
back were seen, clothed in black and with big
pointed wigs and smoothly shaven faces, the worthy
mayor, Thomas Arnoton, and the notary, Master Am
broy, two grave notables amid the floating silks
and the figured damasks. Then came the fat major
domos, the pages, the huntsmen, the superintendents,
and the housekeeper. Dame Barbe, with all her keys by
her side, hung upon a chain of fine silver. At the
very rear of the chapel, on benches, were, those of
lower estate, the servants, the farmers and peasants,
with their families, and finally, right up agalnBt the
door, which they opened and closed discreetly, were
the cooks and scullions, who came, between the
preparation of their sauces, to share in the muss ana
to carry an odor of Christmas in the church, with
its festival attire and the warmth of so many lighted
candles.
Is it the view of the white caps of the cooks and
scullions which causes so many dlsli actions to his
reverence? Is it not rather the little bell of Gar
rlgou, that strenuous little bell which he agitates
at the foot of the altar with such fearful precipita
tion, and which appears to be continually saying:
"Hurry up! Hurry up! The sooner we are through,
the sooner we will get to the table!"
The fact that eacn time it rings, this devil's bell,
rung by the devil, the chaplain forgets the ceremony
and thinks only of the prospective feast. Before his
mind's eye come the noisy kitchens, the furnaces
where a regular forge fire burns, and the steam of
the pots,' which fairly drives the covers upward, and
through wjitch he beholds two magnllicent turkeys,
stuffed, tender and fairly reeking with truffles; or
perhaps he sees pass lines of little pages, carrying
plates enveloped with tempting vapors, and with
them, In fancy, he enters the grand dining room, all
ready prepared for the banquet. Oh, Joy upon Joy!
Behold the Immense table, all set and glorious; the
peacocks dressed in their own plumes; the pneat
ants spreading their red and brown wings; the wine
bottles flashing ..with the color of the rubles; the
pyramids of fruits, looking dazzling from out their
green branches; arid those wonderlul fish, of which
Garrlgou spoke, spread out on a bed of fennel, their
scales pearly, as If they had just come out of the
water, with a bouquet of odoriferous herbs hanging
from their gills. So vivid is the vision of these mar
vels that it appears to Don Balaguere as If these
wonderful dishes had been before him. where he
stood, and two or three times he forgot to recite the
proper words of the service.
With the exception of these slight mistakes, the
worthy man went through his work very conscien
tiously, without missing a line, without omitting a
single bending of the knee, and everything went on
well to the end of the first mass. For you should
knowthat on Christmas day, the same priest ought
to celebrate three masses consecutively.
"There Is one done with," said the chaplain, with
a sigh of relief. Then, without losing a minute, he
made a sign to his clerk, or the one he thought was
his clerk, and
Dong, dong. dong! Dong, dong, dong!
It Is the commencement of the second mass, and
with It also begins the sin of Don Balaguere.
"Quick!' Quicker! Hurry up!" the sharp little
voices of Garrlgou's bell seem to say to him, and this
time the unfortunate celebrant, altogether abandonod
to the demon of gluttony, bends over the missal and
fairly devours the pages, In the avidity of his excited
appetite. In a sort of frenzy, he bends down and
rises, outlines the signs of the cross, the kneelings,
and shortens everything as much as possible, to get
through the sooner.
Hardly had he begun one part of the service than
he was anxious to Jump to the other. Between the
clerk and himself It was a regular race as to who
would go faster. Verses and responses became con
fused with one another. The words were only hulf
pronounced, the mouth being scarcely opened, a proo
ess that apparently would take too much time, and
so the sentences ended In incomprehensible murmurs.
Just like a couple of wine pressers, eager to crush
the grapes In the cask, the two scatter the Latin
words of the ceremony, seeming to throw them
recklessly on all sides. All the time this is going
on Garrlgou keeps sounding the little bell, which
rings in the priest's ear like those they hang to the
necks Of Post horses, , to make them gallop at their
fastest. It Is easy to Imagine that, at that rate, the
mass was quickly finished.
"There's the second done," said the chaplain, half
exhausted. Then, hardly giving himself time to '
breathe, red, perspiring, he walked' down the altar
steps and
Dong, dong, dong! Dong, dong, dong!
It was the start of the third mass, and now only
a little while when they would-be able to go to
' the dining room. But, alas! According as the hour
The old woman
burst Into .terrifying laughter.
'6ol the young gentleman must go barefoot for the
sake of beggars! He musttieprive himself of his shoes
for a ragamuffin! This is tine news to hear. Well,
since you llko It so, I am going to put on the hearth
the one shoe you have left; and Santa Claus, I promise
you, will leave something for you tonight that will be
very handy to whip you with In the morning. You
shall get along tomorrow on nothing but bread and
water. We'll see whether, the next time, you'll glye
your shoes to the first vagabond that comes along."
"The great fireplace filled with dazzling toys."
And the wicked old woman, after having given the
poor little fellow a couple of boxes on the ear, made
him climb up iito the garret. In despair, the child
laid himself down In the darkness and fell asleep on
a pillow wet with his tears.
But next morning, when the old. woman, awakened
by the cold of the room and the cold In her head, came
downstairs, oh, marvel! she beheld the great fireplace
filled with dazzling toys, with bags of magnificent
candles, with gifts of all kinds; and, then, in front of
these Christmas treasures, was the shoe for the right
foot, which her nephew had given to the little vaga
bond, beside the loft shoe which she herself had put
out. Intending to stuff in it a bundle of switches.
As little Wolff, hurrying In response to his aunt's
outcries, stood In ecstasy before his splendid Christ
mas presents, there arose, outside, a great roar of
of the festival approached, unfortunate Father Bala
guere felt himself possessed of a madness of im
patience and of gluttony. His vision becomes ac
centuated. The roast turkeyB, the glided carps are
here, there! He touches them, he almost tastes them.
Oh, Lord, the dishes amoko! The wines give out
their delicate odor, and, shaking its mad clapper,
the little bell cries to him:
"Quick! Fust! Faster yet!"
But how could he move faster? How Is It pos
sible for him to go quicker? His lips scarcely move.
He is not pronouncing the words. The only thing
left for h'm to do Is to not say the mass at all. und
that is what the unfortunate man la guilty of. From
temptation to temptation he begins to skip a verse
of the service, then two or three. Next, the epistle
is rather long. He does not finish It. He Just touches
on the gospel, and their passes on by leaps and
bounds, precipitating himself, as it were deeper and
deeper into temptation, always followed by the In
famous Garrlgou, who backs him up with a sort of
marvelous understanding; who turns the leaves of
the book two by two; upsets the flagons, and per
petually shake the little bell, louder and louder,
and faster and faster.
It was a sight to see the frightened faces of those
who were present, trying to follow the action of the
priest in this muss of which they could not under
stand a word. Some rose up when others knelt down,
borne sat while others stood. And all 'the steps of
the ceremony became confounded in the minds of the
congregation.
The Christmas star, In its route through the high
ways of the heavens, seemed to pale with fear, in
seeing such confusion.
"His reverence is going too quick. We can't fol
low him," murmured the old dowager, shaking her
headdress In great agitation.
Mayor Arnoton, with his big steel spectacles on
his nose, looked at tho chaplain, and wondered what
he was driving at. But down In their hearts all these
good people, who were also thinking of the feast of
good things to como, were not sorry that the mass
was being hurried through at breakneck speed. And
when Don Balaguere. with a beaming face, turned
toward the people and cried aloud the last words
of the service, there arose a commotion In the chapel,
as If all were already taking their places at the
festival tames.
Ill
FIVE! minutes afterward the throng of gentlemen
were seated in the grand hall, the chaplain In the
middle of them. The chateau, Illuminated from roof
to foundation, re-echoed with songs and laughter,
and the venerable Don Balaguere stuck his fork in
the wing of a heathercock, drowning the remorse of
"Faintly outlined shadows
his sin with draughts of glorious wins and ths
equally glorious Juice of the viands before him. So
he ate and drank so much, the good man, that he
died during the night, of a terrible attack, without
having had the time to more than repent .Then he
arrived at the judgment seat the next morning, and
I leave you to guess how he was received.
"Go hencel Withdraw from my eyes, you wicked
Christian!" was said to him. "Your fault Is great
merlng, to tell her of his adventure.
laughter. Woman and boy ran out to learn what was
the matter? They saw, gathered around th street
fountain, the gossips of the town. What had . hap
penedT Oh, something that was very extraordinary,
and amusing. The children of all the rich folks, tbosf
whose parents intended to surprise them with the
finest gifts, had found in their shoes nothing but,
bundles of switches. ..;.
The orphan boy and the old woman, as they r-,
membered the wealth of gifts In their fireplace, felt
themselves filled with dread. But all at ones they saw
the Cure coming, the picture of excitement. Over the
stone bench at the church door he found a halo of.
gold set into the old stones around the very spot
where, the night before, the whlteclad. barefooted child
had rested his drowsy head. "(
Devoutly, all who heard made the sign of the cross,
for they realized that the sleeping child, who had,
near him the carpenter's tools, was Jesus of Nazareth, '
wno naa returned in nesn, lor a single hour, just as,
he was when he worked in the house of his parents..' :
And all bowed down in the presence of this miracle,
which the good God had wrought as a reward, for
the faith and charity of a child.
enough to wlDe out all the Brood of a Hfotlmn nt virtue. -
You failed to say one of your midnight masses. , ,YrjT
well, you shall pay for it, three hundred times over,
and you will not be permitted to enter paradise until
you nave celebrated, in tnat chapel, those same three
. , ., 1 1 V, - . ,
who have sinned with you and througn your lauus."
Now this is (he true legend of Father Balaguere,.
as It is related in tne otiive country. Today, the
castle of Trlnquelague exists no more, but the chapel .
is there, still standing straight up on the top of
Mount Ventoux, in a cluster of green oaks. The
wind has blown down its doors, and the grass has
grown thick on its threshold. There are birds' nests
in the angles of the old altar, and in the embrasures
of the high windows, Horn wniuu the colored glassus
have long since disappeared. However, it appears
that every year, at Christmas time, a supernatural ,
light moves among these ruins, and that in going to
the mtdnlaht masses the naasanta can an. tha anaotw
of the chapel, lighted up by invisible candles,
which burn In the open air, even under tho snow
and in defiance of the wind. You can laugh at IV
it you want to, but a peasant of the place, named
Garrigue, without doubt a descendant of Garrlgou,
has told me that one Christmas eve, finding himself
a little tipsy, he got lost in the woods on the side
of the hill, and this Is what he said he saw: Up to
eleven o'clock, nothing, everything was silent, dead,
inanimate. Suddenly, toward midnight, a bell sounded
from the height of the chapel tower. It sounded like
an old, old bell, and seemed to come from thirty miles
away. Very soon. In the road up the side of the bill,
Garrigue saw fires sparkle and faintly outlined shadows
moved here and there. These came up alongside the
porch of the chapel, and he heard the wordsi -
"Good evening, good evening. Mayor Arnoton." ,
"Good" evening, good evening, my children,'
When everybody entered, Garrigue, who was a
very brave man, approached softly and, looking
through the broken door, witnessed a singular spec
tacle. All the people he had seen pass a Tittle while
nerore were ranged around a choir in the center of
the ruins, as if the old benches still existed. Among.
than) . k V. n (i i . t 1 1 1 nman (n K.i.d ,IM.
dresses of lace; lordly gentlemen, grandly clothed"
from head to foot, and peasants, in flowered Jackets,')
like those that used to be worn by our great-grand-
fathers. Everything was old, worn out, dusty, be- J
draggled. From time to time the night birds, who "
are now the habitual guests of the chapel, awakened
by all these lights, began flying around the candles,
whose flames mounted straight upward, as If they
were ablaze behind a screen; and that which most;
amused Garrigue was a certain personage, with larse
stppl spectacles, who every other minute shook his i
high, black wig. on which one of these birds held'
moved here and there."
himself bolt i upright and flapped the air with sllsnl
wings.- And in the midst or all, a little old man, on
his knees near ths choir, shook with desperation
a bell that gave forth no sound, while a priit,
vested in the priestly garments of Other days, came
and went before the altar, i -citing prayer of wni. t
not one word was heard. There could he no douM
that this was Father Balaguere, saying his third iv
mas - "
& i &4 -ti wa