Toinette's Philip

Front matter

TOINETTE'S PHILIP HE CRIED, "DEA! SELINE ! " AND FELL FEEBLY FORWARD. ( Page 2"]<)) TOINETTE'S PHILIP BV MRS. C. V. JAM1SON AUTHOR OF "LADY JANEjf* I LLUSTRATED LONDON OSGOOD, McILVAINE & CO. 45 ALBEMARLE STREET, W. 1S96 CONTENTS CHAT. PAGE I. PHILIP, DEA, AND HOMO I II. GRANDE SELINE 8 III. HOW THEY BECAME ACQUAINTED . . . . I3 IV. LILYBEL . l8 V. DEA SELLS QUASIMODO 26 VI. TOINETTE 35 VII. PHILIP ASKS A QUESTION 44 V1II. AN ARTIST IN WAX 53 IX. THE "CHILDREN" OF PERE JOSEF .... 63 X. THE LITTLE MODELS 71 XI. PERE JOSEF'S SACRIFICE 79 XII. A SURPRISE 89 XIII. PHILIP SAYS "NO" 97 xiv. "i've come to stay with you" .... 103 XV. THEY VISIT ST. ROCH'S Ill XVI. THE DEPARTURE Iig XVII. A LITTLE HEIRESS 124 XVIII. A LITTLE WAIF I33 XIX. QUASIMODO FURNISHES A CLUE I42 XX. AN INNOCENT MISTAKE 147 XXI.

THE POOR DOLL FAINTS CONTENTS VIII CHAP. XXII. PHILIP PLEADS FOR THE "CHILDREN" . . l6j XXIII. ANOTHER RIVAL 175 XXIV. A JOYFUL MEETING 185 XXV. A CRISIS 194 XXVI. "GOOD NIGHT, MR. BUTLER " 202 XXVII. THE EMPTY ROOM 211 XXVIII. PERE JOSEF SENDS A PACKAGE OF LETTERS . . 217 XXIX. THE LITTLE PILGRIMS 226 XXX. MADAME AINSWORTH RECEIVES A PACKAGE OF LETTERS 236 XXXI. THEY PRESS ON 245 XXXII. THE SWEET-OLIVE IS IN BLOOM .... 254 XXXIII. AFTER MANY DAYS 265 XXXIV. AT THE GATE 274 XXXV. A BED OF ROSES 28l XXXVI. A RECONCILIATION 29I XXXVII. A SUCCESSFUL PICTURE LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS TAGE He cried, "Dea ! Seiine .'" and fell feebly forward Frontispiece Philip, Dea, and Homo . ... 3 Lilybel could not resist scrambling for some of the nuts, and Seiine caught him 21 Toinette and Philip before the old Detrava Gate • ■ ■ 39 Toinette was filing the wire design of a lamb with jasmine blossoms 46 Dea and her father 57 Pere Josef softly whistled an old waltz 68 Pere Josef's sacrifice 54 She took him in her arms and drew him close to her . 105 Philip and Dea at Toinette's grave 116 The little heiress returns from her drive 129 Lucille was scrambling on to the hall table .... 158 Suddenly Madam Ainsworth started from her chair and looked at the boy almost in terror 172 He liked to brood m the green shadows 178 Philip rushed into the group of boys 188 Lilybel gives an exhibition 199 Bassett gave him a hearty clasp ...... 207 Pire Josef reads Toinette's letter ......

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS X PAGE Lilybel rubbed his eyes and yawned, while Philip shook him vigorously 231 What is it? Oh, what has happened?" eried Mrs. Ainsworth . . . . ■ .241 Philip grieved sorely over the tiny dead thing .... 252 Taking Philip in his arms, he trudged off toward a large tree 259 He leaned against the fence of the deserted cottage, and cried bitterly 272 Looking ut>, he saw Pire Josef leaning over him 286 "/ shall live to make you happy," said Madame Ainsworth . 299 "This is what they say of the picture," said Philip . .

Chapter I Philip, Dea, And Homo One

sunny morning early in March, two children, a boy and a girl, followed by a large shaggy dog, slowly sauntered up Rue Royale, in the French quarter of New Orleans. The boy was about nine years old, the girl not more than eight, the dog — no one could tell his age with any degree of certainty ; but he was no longer young, for the grey hairs about his muzzle and his long hollow flanks plainly showed that he had seen many and evil days. He was of the breed commonly called " wolf," his body was covered with coarse, bristling hair, and his long nose and pointed, alert ears gave him an intelligent and inquisitive look in spite of his drooping tail and spiritless walk. With out looking to the right or left he followed closely on the heels of the children, occasionally sniffing at a bag which hung over the boy's shoulder.

When they slackened their pace to glance into a shop- A window or to make room for a passer, the dog also stopped, while he eyed the bag wistfully, a few drops of water now and then falling from his mouth on the pavement. The boy, from time to time, glanced down at the patient creature, smiling while he reached out a thin brown hand to pat his head fondly. " Homo smells my lunch. It's no use, I must stop and give him some," he said at last, placing on a door-step near him a tray of flowers which he was carefully carrying. He was a handsome boy, lithe and slim, and tall for his age, with large blue eyes of a merry cast, straight clear features, and curling brown hair. He was cleanly but poorly clad in a blue shirt, and short trousers of the same colour ; a small white cap covered a portion of his thick hair, which lay in heavy rings over his forehead just above his straight dark eyebrows.

The little girl who accompanied him was an uncommon and picturesque figure. A dark red frock fell straight to her heels, a white muslin scarf crossed in front was tied behind, the long ends almost touching the pavement when she walked, her very thick black hair was cut off square, like a mane over her shoulders, and it was partly covered by a red silk kerchief knotted under her chin, her little worn prematurely old face was as white and delicate as a Roman cameo, her eyes, unnaturally large, were intensely dark — so dark that they showed through her drooping lids, and her small firmly closed mouth seemed never to have PHILIP, DEA, AND HOMO 3 smiled. On her arm she carried a basket, in which, carefully packed in soft paper, were several little coloured wax figures delicately and beautifully PHILIP, DEA, AND HOMO modelled.

One was " Esmeralda and her goat ; " another, "Dea and the wolf;" another, "Quasi modo " — in short they all represented characters taken from the stories of Victor Hugo. That they were of almost sacred value to the child was apparent in the careful way she carried them, and the occasional glance of pride and solicitude she bestowed upon them. When the boy stopped and put down his tray of flowers, orange-blossoms, roses and violets, she too stopped and placed her basket on the steps, drawing, as she did so, a thick paper over the little figures to shield them from the sun and dust. After the boy's hands were free he proceeded to unfasten the bag, smiling all the time at the old dog who pressed close to him, his sunken eyes full of expectation. " Don't be in a hurry, Homo ; don't be in a hurry," he said, gently.

" You shall have your breakfast. I made Mammy Toinette put in plenty of bread. I knew you'd be hungry; I knew you would." The little girl, with her hands tightly clasped, stood looking on almost as anxiously as the dog. Suddenly the boy fixed his eyes on her inquiringly, and his face flushed to his forehead. " Did you have anything to eat before you came out, Dea — now tell me the truth, did you ? " he asked, earnestly. The child turned paler, if possible, and looked away evasively, but made no reply. " Tell me now, Dea, quick ! I sha'n't give Homo a mouthful till you tell me." " I didn't want anything to eat, Philip," she said, tremulously. " Pauv' papa had one of his bad spells." PHILIP, DEA, AND HOMO 5 " And you didn't sleep any last night. I can tell by your looks that you didn't." " Not much," she replied, sighing.

" Pauv' papa walked all night. I think he was in pain. I couldn't sleep when he was suffering." "You couldn't, of course," said the boy, soothingly. " But never mind now, Dea — eat some breakfast and give Homo some. You like Mammy's fried chicken — and I've enough for all of us." And as the boy spoke he unfolded a clean white napkin and displayed some squares of corn bread and a quantity of chicken fried crisp and brown. " Take all you want " — and he held it out in vitingly. " I'll give some to Homo," said the girl, taking a piece of the chicken with the tips of her slender fingers and offering it to the old dog, who swallowed it without the least attempt to chew it, sighing contentedly as it did so. While the girl and the dog were eating, the boy uncovered the basket, and taking out one by one the small figures, looked at them admiringly, turning them to blow off an occasional speck of dust.

" They're as natural as life, Dea," he said, en couragingly. " I hope you'll sell one to-day. You haven't sold one since Mardi Gras, have you ? It must be the rainy weather that has kept people out of the streets ; but now it's cleared off Rue Royale will be full of strangers, and you'll be sure to sell one to-day." " Oh, I hope so, Philip, for pauv' papa's sake," replied the girl as she gave her last crumb of bread to the dog. " He hasn't any money, and he's so unhappy when he hasn't any money." Then she covered her face with her hands and began to cry silently. " Don't, Dea, don't cry," said the boy gently, as he took up his tray of flowers and the child's basket as well. " Come on, let's hurry. Grande Seiine will be back to-day, and she's sure to bring you something." " But if she isn't there, Philip, what shall I do ?

Pauv' papa had no supper last night, and there's no breakfast for him this morning. I ought to have taken him the bread and chicken you gave me. Homo and I could have waited. I wasn't so hungry, because I had your lunch yesterday. Now it's gone ; we have eaten it, and pauv' papa hasn't any." "Take the rest of my lunch, Dea," said the boy, stoutly. " I don't want it, I can wait till night. Mammy Toinette promised me gumbo for supper." The little girl smiled faintly through her tears as she trotted on beside her friend, who still carried her basket. " Gumbo ! how nice to have gumbo for supper ! " she said, with a soft sigh. " Yes, it's good with plenty of rice," replied her companion ; " and Mammy would give you some if you'd go home with me." " I can't, Philip. Papa would be angry ; he never allows me to go into any house, and he never has anyone to visit him."

" That"s why he has no money and doesn't sell PHILIP, DEA, AND HOMO 7 more little images," returned the boy, with some show of anger. " If he made friends, you would not have to go hungry." " Pauv' papa," sighed the child, " he's so ill and unhappy. He cried when he put Quasimodo in the basket ; he said it was the best figure he had ever modelled — that it was a work of art, and worth a great deal." "A work of art," repeated the boy, scornfully. " It's not half as pretty as Esmeralda and her goat. It's an ugly, crooked little monster." " Well, Quasimodo was like that," returned Dea, with some spirit. " Papa has often read to me about him : he was carillonneur of Notre Dame de Paris." " Oh, yes, I know. You've told me all about him, don't you remember? But I like Esmeralda best. I'm sure you'll sell Esmeralda first."

" I hope so ; pauv' papa said I must sell some thing to-day. If I don't, Philip, I'm sure he will walk again to-night." "Well, let's hurry then," cried Philip, quickening his steps. " If Grande Seiine is there, she'll help us to find a customer ; and she promised to be there to-day."

Chapter II Grande Seline Oh

there's Grande Seiine ! " cried Philip, joyfully, as they drew near the old Union Bank, not far from Canal Street. " She's setting up her stand now." " Yes, there she is ! " exclaimed Dea, starting into a swift run toward a stout laughing mulattress, who was standing near a table under the portico of the Bank, tying a white apron round her thick waist. " Oh, honey," she gurgled as she clasped the child tight. " Oh, honey, how glad I is ter see yer — an' Mars' Philip, too ! — how you's both done growed since l's been gone." "And how thin you've got, Seiine," returned Philip, his blue eyes sparkling with merriment. " You've lost flesh going to the country to your cousin's wedding." " My, my, jes' hear dat boy ! Do yer think l's slimmer, Ma'mselle Dea ? " and she looked com placently at her fat sides as she smoothed the folds GRANDE SELINE 9 of her starched apron.

"An' what's you chil'run been er-doin' all dis yere time dat l's been away ? An' how's yer pauv' papa, Ma'mselle ? " " He's very bad, Seiine ; he don't sleep," returned Dea, sighing sadly. " My, my, honey, l's sorry ter hear sech bad newses," said Seiine, with sympathy. "An' is yer done sole any yer little images while l's gone ter der weddin'?" " No, Seiine, not one. Pauv' papa's finished Quasimodo. I've got him in my basket ; I'm to sell him for five dollars." " Well, honey, ef yer want ter sell him yer got ter stan' him out where people'll see him ; 'tain't no use ter keep him covered up in yer basket. I'm goin' ter give yer a corner of my table," and Grande Seiine swept aside her pile of fruits and cakes, smiling benevolently as she did so. " But the dust, Seiine ! — papa doesn't like them to get dusty."

" Never mind der dust, chile ; it'll blow off. It's der money we want, an' I don't see how yer goin' ter sell dat pore little crooked image." and Seiine looked doubtfully at the work of art as Dea disen cumbered it of its wrappings, and stood it as far away as possible from a generous pile of pralines. " Now, dat little one with the goat is right peart lookin', an' it's strange yer don't sell it." " You see, it's rained ever since you went away, Seiine, and there's been no strangers in the streets," said Philip, coming forward to move Quasimodo a little more into the shadow of one of the fluted columns that decorate the facade of the old Bank. " If it hadn't been for funerals and weddings, Mammy wouldn't have sold any flowers. I've been here every day since you went to the country, and I haven't sold a dozen boutonnieres."

" Dat's 'cause yer didn't have my table ter show yer flowers on, Mars' Philip. No one don't notice little creturs like you is. It takes an ole woman like I is ter get customers," said Grande Seiine, chuckling and shaking her fat sides, as she arranged Philip's flowers and sprinkled them lightly from a can of water. " An' dat ole dog, too, he knows l's back ; he's dun tuk his same place under dis yer table. Jes' look at the pore cretur ; he's ter home, shore." " Yes, Homo's glad you're back, Seiine, and so are we," said Philip, leaning over the table and smiling up into the kind, dusky face. " I don't know which of us has missed you most, but I think Dea has." " Pore chile," and the old woman glanced fondly at the little girl. " l's thought heaps about yer boas, an' l's glad l's back. Yer ain't had yer scarf washed since l's gone, is yer, honey ?

Well, jes' slip it off when yer go home an' I'll bring it ter yer clean in der mornin'. An' see what I got in my basket fer yer supper ter night," making a little pantomime to Philip as she took out a package folded in a clean napkin. " A half a chicken I done brought from the country, some flour bread, an' a slice of dat cheese yer pauv' papa likes ; an' jes' look at dis yere, chil'run, some of der weddin'-cake fer yer. It's fine cake. GRANDE SELINE 11 Dat cousin knows how ter make cake ; her ole Miss' learned her. Now ain't dat dar pretty cake as yer ever seed ? " " Oh, oh, Seiine, isn't it nice ! " cried both children at once — " and the sugar on it is so thick and white." " Now, you jes' eat some," she said, handing a generous slice to each ; " an' dis what's left is part fer yer pauv' papa, Ma'mselle, an' part fer yer mammy, Mars' Philip."

" Why, Seiine, you're awful good," cried the boy, his mouth full of cake. " I told Dea you'd bring us something from the country." " May I keep half of mine for to-morrow, Seiine ? " asked Dea, when she had slowly eaten a part of hers. "Why, yes, chile, if yer wants ter; an' jes' take dis yer bundle of chicken an' put it in der bottom of yer basket fer yer supper." Dea took the package with trembling hands and glistening eyes. " Oh, Seiine, how good you are ! Pauv' papa will be so glad," she whispered. " Yes, I knows, honey, I knows ; an' I'm goin' ter sell one of dem little images fer yer papa dis yere day, er my name ain't Seiine. I ain't been right yere in dis place since endurin' the war fer nothin'. My ole Mars' what was pres'dent of dis yer bank — yer see, chil'run, it used ter be a bank full of money afore der war — he done tole me I could set up my stan' yere ; he say : ' Seiine, you'll make yer fortune yere.' Well, I ain't made no fortune, but l's done made right smart, an' now l's got plenty to do a little fer you, honey, what ain't got no ma, only a pauv' sick papa, so l's goin ter help yer sell yer little images.

Yer tired an' sleepy, chile ; jes drap down on my little stool an' take a nap in der shade, an' I'll look out for customers." Dea did not wait for a second invitation to sleep. Her poor little head ached, and her eyes were heavy from her night's vigils, so she sank down con tentedly in Seiine's broad shadow, and, resting her pale face against the good woman's clean apron, she slept as peacefully as did the old dog at her feet ; and Philip, perched on the base of one of the massive columns, swung his bare brown legs and whistled softly, while he waited for the customer promised by Seiine with so much confidence.

Chapter III How They Became Acquainted Some

ten or twelve years before the beginning of this story, when Grande Seiine had established her lunch stand under the portico of the Union Bank, the handsome structure was used for the purpose indicated by the name cut in large letters on the stone facade ; but the civil war and numerous unfortunate financial changes had abolished the business, and the fine old building had degenerated from its dignified position into a second-class theatre or variety-show. On the massive fluted columns hung huge coloured posters, and against the grey old walls were fastened tall boards covered with ludicrous pictures of dancing dogs, Chinese jugglers, and absurd caricatures, set forth in glaring colours in order to attract the attention of the common people. Where formerly grave, black-coated financiers passed in and out, now lounged a motley crowd to read the playbills or scan the grotesque pictures, jesting and laughing as they elbowed and jostled one another.

Among them were some of the better class, who lingered near Seiine's stand in the corner of the portico to drink a glass of her cold lemonade or to eat some of her fresh pralines, crisp and toothsome, with the nuts showing thickly through their glossy coats. And beside her sweets, in a clean basket carefully covered with a fresh napkin, were dainty sandwiches of French rolls filled with chicken or ham, and the lightest and whitest of sponge cake liberally coated wijh sugar. In the old days it was the custom of the busy officials of the bank to snatch a hasty lunch from Seiine's basket, and to wash it down with a glass of her delicious lemonade. Now it was another class that patronised her ; still the quality of her wares remained the same, therefore she always had a large custom among the habitues of the theatre, and in the course of all these years she had saved up a snug little sum, and could well afford to be generous at times.

Two or three years before, when Philip had first made his appearance on Rue Royale with his tray of flowers, while lingering near her stand to feast his eyes on her tempting display, Seiine's attention was attracted by his innocent, charming face. He was not more than six years old at that time, and his merry laugh and pleasant chatter won her heart at once. From that day she took him under her especial care, and Philip's fresh fragrant flowers always found a shady corner on Seiine's table. Not long after these friendly relations began, the HOW THEY BECAME ACQUAINTED 15 boy appeared one day with a pale, sad-eyed little girl, dressed in a shabby black frock and carrying a small basket, in which were a few exquisitely modelled wax figures. He introduced his companion with great confidence to Grande Seiine, taking it for granted that the kindly woman would extend to his forlorn little friend the affection she so freely lavished upon him.

And he was not mistaken. Seiine took the mournful little creature right to her great heart. " I al'ays done loved little gals der best. Boys is good ernuff, but mighty triflin' and tryin'," she said by way of excuse to Philip, who she feared might be a little jealous of her sudden interest in Dea. Philip first met the little girl on Ursulines Street. She was in great trouble : an overfed bulldog had attacked Homo when he was very hungry, and consequently very weak, and though the poor old animal fought bravely, he was about to be " the under dog in the fight," when Philip appeared, and so sturdily belaboured the enemy with a stout stick, that he let go and stood at bay, while Homo took refuge in instant flight, followed by the little girl, who, in her excitement, left her basket on the banquette.

Philip, after he had driven the bulldog into a near yard and closed the gate upon him, picked up the neglected property and ran after the owner. Poor little thing, she was frightened and breathless, but she stopped to thank her deliverer, between her sobs, while she grasped the dog's collar with both trembling hands. " It wasn't Homo's fault," she explained in rapid French. "The other dog began it. Homo's old and hungry, but he's got lots of spirit, and he won't bear an insult. The dog was rude to Homo, and he couldn't help fighting." " I know," returned Philip. " I don't blame your dog ; he couldn't help standing up to a saucy beast like that." His ready sympathy, and sensible appreciation of Homo's self-respect, won the little girl's confidence at once, and from that day they were fast friends.

She was very reticent, and Philip, with inborn delicacy, did not question her much ; but from her remarks he learned that she lived on Villere Street, that her mother was dead, and that her father was an artist en circ, and that he modelled the pretty little figures which she tried to sell from house to house. " Pauv' papa is always ill," she explained, in a grave, soft little voice. " His head hurts him, and he can't sleep at night ; and since mamma died he never sees any one, and never goes out in the day ; he says the light hurts him. Sometimes he goes out in the evening and stays a long time. I don't know where he goes, but I think it is to the cimctiere, to mamma's grave." Philip's bright face clouded ; he felt like crying with the child, but he said bravely : " I wish you'd come with me up on Rue Royale ; you'd have a better chance.

I've a friend there who has a stand ; her name is Grande Seiine ; she'll help you sell your little figures." HOW THEY BECAME ACQUAINTED 17 Dea gratefully accepted the kindly invitation, and having the good fortune to win Seiine's affection at first sight, the child found a faithful friend, who cared for her in many ways with remarkable tenderness and devotion. Every day, in rain or shine, the handsome boy and the sad-faced little girl could be found near Seiine, while their wares occupied a part of her table, under which Homo slept soundly — a weary animal, who at last had found a secure and peaceful haven of rest. The first break in this pleasant arrangement was when Seiine went for a few weeks into the country to be present at the wedding of a dusky kinswoman. Now she had returned, much to the delight of the children, who entered upon their former relations with the utmost confidence and security. B

Chapter IV Lilybel Poor

little Dea slept peacefully, safe under Seiine's friendly shadow, and Philip whistled merrily now that his burden of care had fallen on broader and stronger shoulders ; and while Dea slept, and Philip whistled, Seiine drowsed in the soft spring air, slowly waving her bunch of peacock feathers to keep off the flies. Thia she did quite mechanically, whether her eyes were open or closed, and it served a good purpose in keeping pilfering fingers away from her sweets, as well as banishing the obtrusive winged creatures that hovered above her ; for Seiine was often in the land of dreams when her feathers were waving back and forth with rhythmic precision. On this day she slept with one eye open, for she was on the look-out for a suitable owner for Esmeralda or Quasimodo. " It's 'bout time fer strangers ter come erlong," she said to herself, " an' I knows er stranger soon's I set eyes on one ; dey's der ones what buys dem little images."

LILYBEL 19 Suddenly both eyes opened wide, and Seiine straightened up and looked toward Canal Street. " Sure's l's born, dar's dat Lilybel er comin'. What dat boy er comin' yere dis time er day fur ? — didn't I sont him on der levee, an' tole him ter stay dar till he done sole all what he got in his basket ? " Philip stopped whistling, and turned amused eyes toward Lilybel, who slowly approached, looking very sheepish. He was a mite of a darky, as black and glossy as a rubber shoe, with large whites to his bead-like eyes, and teeth that glistened like grains of new corn. His sunburned hair stood off from his head as though he were in a state of chronic fright, and his broad mouth was stretched almost from ear to ear in a mirth-provoking grin ; his body was round and fat, and from his short, crooked legs his large feet stood out at right angles.

One ragged suspender over a torn dirty shirt held up a muddy bundle of breeches, the ragged legs of which were rolled close to his thighs. Altogether he looked more like a small scarecrow than a member of the human family, and had it not been for his rolling eyes and broad grin, Lilybel would have deceived the wisest old crow in a corn-field. " Now, jes' look at dat boy — ain't he er sight ? ' cried Seiine in a shrill voice, a voice cultivated expressly for Lilybel. " I done sont him out clean an' peart dis mornin', an' now yere he is, all muddy and frazzled. I suttenly knows he's er been rollin' down der levee with jes' sich triflin' chil'run like TOINETTE'S PHILIP 20 he'self. Come yere," and she thrust out a threaten ing hand, which Lilybel adroitly dodged ; " come yere, I say, afore I slap yer head off."

Lilybel paid no attention to his mother's startling threat, but skilfully kept out of reach, until he wormed himself behind the column where Philip sat laughing, in spite of Seiine's trouble; and there, in an excellent position for dodging a stray shot, he looked out, grinning defiantly. " Is yer goin' ter come yere," cried Seiine, quite beside herself. " Jes' let me get my han' on yer," and she jumped up so suddenly that she dropped her bunch of feathers in her jar of lemonade, while she nearly overturned Dea, who awoke startled and confused at the fracas. And even Homo arose, alertly, and sniffed the air, then turned around and curled himself up for another nap. It was nothing — he was accustomed to these scenes between Lilybel and Seiine. " Does yer hear me ? Come yere an' tell me what yer done with yer basket," and leaning across the table in a frantic effort to grab the culprit, Seiine came near sending Quasi modo to sudden and irreparable ruin, while she scattered a shower of pecans over the pavement.