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SOME CHINESE SUPERSTITIONS.
The Chinese are a very superstitious people, but do not lose sight of the practical, even in the maze of queer beliefs that order^their lives. They, like to derive profit from every act and this idea characterizes even their superstition. They have invented a paper money of value in the banks of the other world, since with it they pay for those ceremonials intended to pro cure the happiness of their ancestors. Children often wear about the neck a silver collar large enough to pass over the head. It is thought that this safeguard prevents the soul from escaping from the body. The gift of a gold or silver necklet is often pre sented to a boy at birth. Another talisman consists of a num ber of very ancient coins, suspended from a red cord about the neck. They are supposed to presage ease and prosperity fbr the child. To shave the upper part of the head, leaving a short rim of hair in the shape of a crown, is a precaution against early death. In China, a piece of red cloth is as sociated with the presence of small pox. It is not used as a danger signal, however, with the Celestials, but ap pears after the illness. When a child has survived an attack of the dread disease, a strip of red is tied to its queue. By this means the evil spirits are informed that they are not to visit this person a second time with the same affliction. And thus the superstitions multiply themselves, suiting every age, place and condition. Were the Chinese to benefit really by all their propitiatory acts to the powers of the spirit world, they wou'd be the most favored crea tures on the face of the earth. CATHOLIC CHINESE. There are three hundred Protestant missionaries in China, and they em ploy 11,000 Chinese helpers to spread heresy. And yet China is not unfavor able to Catholicity. It is true that the rich are difficult to convince, but the conversions of the workingmen and their families are ever increasing. The Catholics are good, honest people in their daily lives, and faithful to the rules of the church. Their children are so well safe-guarded that, although they live in the midst of paganism, they know little or nothing about idolatry and wickedness. Hundreds of families date back their Catholicity two or three centuries. All the Catholics are well instructed, love their religion and fulfill its obligations in spite of obstacles and sacrifices. In one province there is a community of fifty-five Chinese nuns. Are there not many of our readers who, from actual experiences of years past, can sympathize with the new converts to Christianity in pagan lands, and appreciate what it means to be without a priest and an altar? In the early days, right here in America, many of our parents and grandparents did not have an opportunity to hear Mass very Sunday, and daily Commun ion was out of the question for most of them. HELPING CATHOLIC MISSION ARIES. Bishop Nilan, of Hartford, in It re cent pastoral to his clergy, toucned as follows on the vital subject of mis sions: Those who help an apostle in his work by prayer and alms, and thus increase the fruit of his labors, must share in his reward. The sacrifices undertaken by these apostles to plant the seed of the Gospel, the devotion of religious women in school, orphanage and leper camp, ought to excite our compassion and enlist our financial aid. We realize that the calls on the generosity of your people are frequent for charities with in and outside the Diocese as well as for the upkeep of your parish insti tutions. Yet, as the best use we can make of a gift is to share it with oth ers, so it is true that they who com municate faith to those who do not possess it, find therein the best pre-' servative of faith in themAlves. While missionaries with infinite pa tience try to bring the truths of relig ion within the grasp of the untutored minds, and suffer all the hardships and dangers incident to life among heathen peoples, they have a right to the sym pathy and help of those who live in more favored lands and enjoy the gift of faith by inheritance. Many a priest or nun in some distant land or in our own is probably await ing anxiously the alms which will come to them through the charity of your people to build a school, a church, a home, or perhaps to provide the bare necessities of life. Their prayers will go up for the cheerful giver, and Christ who gave the command to preach the Gospel to every creature, will give back with interest what is lent to Him. INDIANS ASK FOR BOOK& The following letter is addressed to by one of the pupils of St Mary's Indian School, Wash.: "We are here in school trying to make our education, and since the be ginning of the term we have been doing fairly well in our studies. We hare, worked hard to collect some MISSION FIELDS. books for our library, and the Father here is not rich enough to help up in our efforts to increase our little col lections by buying more, as he has so many other things to do, such as to replace the old buildings with new ones, and so forth. It would be there fore very kind of you to send us as many books as you can collect. We would like to have books of literature, of history, of science, etc. and ia fact all of the books which may be in structive to us. "If you can get only a few books, please send them by mail, but if you can collect enough to fill a box, send it by freight, and address to Rev. E. de Rouge, S. J., via Wenatchee, care of Boat Company, St. Mary's Mission, Wash. (Continued trom Page 3.) THE STORY OF A VIOLIN. Tony's eyes blazed like black coals. With a protesting gesture, he stepped forward but his voice trembled so that he could hardly speak. "Grandfather, you should send the Signor his violin quick,—the one he paid for, I wil) take it to him. You can exchange it now. He must have it!" Old Hamel turned away with a shrug and a smile. "O, Tony, Tony, you have much to learn, my son! You are really a greehhorn. Bah! What a milksop for business!" The boy had grown very white when Hamel told what had been done, but now his face flushed crimson. Picking up his cap, he went to the richly colored Stradivarius, lifted it from its cushions, and as if it were some living, lovable thing, hugged it to Aim, while he turned to the old man. "Grandfather, I will go to rectify your mistake." And he moved toward the door. "You will?" said Hamel, stepping after him, his face darkening with sudden passion. "Could I not take it from you, boy? But never mind. Go if you will. But send the fiddle back to me. Don't come yourself." Tony trembled. What was to be come of him? He had no money, no friends in France, if anywhere. Clutching the violin, he sank back against the doorway a shudder ran through him. For the first time in his life he knew the temptation to be dishonest. Opportunities had often come to him, but they had not tempt ed him. Even in the worst poverty at Florence, there had always been something to which he could look forward—his little earnings by street fiddling,—something which would put bread into the mouths of the dear lit tle mother and himself and she had always made a home for him, even if it were only a garret. But now he had no one except his grandfather and nothing—not even the strength to labor. What but starvation and misfortune lay before him if he crossed the will of the old man? Tony lifted his eyes, and saw Ham el's anger-distorted face and frown ing brows -bent upon him. "Do right, my Tony, and grow like thy father." His soul heard his mother's words as plainly as though they had only just been spoken and the memory of that voice was like a delivering angel. He raised his head and suddenly grew pale again. "I will go, grandfather." And, clasping the violin, he passed into the street. A gentle rap on the door of Room 20, Hotel "To see Monsieur," explained the servant to the gentleman within, as he ushered in a boy. "Eh?" said the gentleman, turning his glasses upon Tony. "The young violinist! Come in. And what brings you? With another violin, too! Want to sell out your stock, eh?" And the gentleman smiled genially. The boy flushed red, then pale. "I am Tony Marelli, Signor. I have come to correct a mistake. The wrong violin was given you, Signor, in—in the hurry. I bring you the Stradivarius." And he held it out. "What!" cried the gentleman. "How is this? A mistake? I have not the violin I paid for?" "No, Signor. The violins got ex changed somehow. But I came as quick as I could with the right one. You will see the difference at once by comparing them. This is—oh, a violin for a king to play on, Signor!" (The boy's love of the instrument broke out in forgetful enthusiasm). "My grandfather" (he winched) does not know the true worth of such an instrument as this. He rates them only by what he can get for them He has no ear for music. But think, Signor! If it speaks so softly for me, how heavenly sweet it could sound for one like Talmador Ovad!" The gentleman started. 1 "Talmador Ovad. And wluft do you know of him?" "I heard him play once, in Flor ence," said Tony, with luminous eyes "and no one could forget that, for it was like the singing of angels. And after I tried each day to play over all that he played, I remembered it all, —I think every note of it,—but to play it,—that was another thing. I could get the tune well enough but that was like one voice, while^his was as if all the angels were singing to gether in u whisper." The gentleman, looking at Tony, did not speak. Perhaps the silence recalled the boy to himself. "They said he was Hungarian, Sig nor, though he lives in Leipsic. Per haps you have had the happiness to hear him many times?" "Yes," said the gentleman, "I have heard him many times." "Ah! And you may even know him, Signor?" "Well, yes," answered the gentle man, stroking his bread. "'I have met him." "Some day—" began Tony artlmated ly, and stopped. With a sort of a shiver he once more held out the violin. "Pardon, Signor! I was for getting. Will you please examine this, and give me the other violin?" Instead of taking it, the gentleman removed his glasses and gazed at Tony for a moment very steadily. Then he rose, and, going to a table upon which his violin case rested, he took out the violin within, and re sumed his seat. "Many persons," he said quietly, "would think this 'mistake' altogether a hoax, Tony Marelli, and would have both violins examined by a connois seur, especially as I told your grand father and you that I knew nothing of violins except by tone. But I do know that there are faces beyond lying, and I believe yours is one of them. Moreover, I trust you for other reasons. But it is only natural I should seek in some way to confirm my opinion. As I have said, my ear is not readily deceived it is a family acuteness for tone. Let me hear yov play this violin, then the other." THE CATHOLIC BULLETIN, AUGUST 3, 1912. The boy, with a feverish desire for perfect fairness, did as he was bid. When both instruments had been tried, the gentleman exclaimed with delight at the tone of the Cremona, then added: "You play well, my young violin ist!" Tony prepared to go. But how was he to get his grandfather's violin back to him? He was forbidden to return himself. "Signor," he said, in embarrass ment, "I shall not return to the shop today—or soon. If you would be so good as to have this left there for me, it would be a great kindness. I do not know just when I could take it myself, nor with whom I could leave it!" He paused, coloring. "Certainly," said the gentleman, i' "But not going back? You have found a better place?" I "No, Signor." "No? Off for a holiday?" "No, Signor, I—that is, I don't' know." "Upon my word," said the gentle man, laughingly, "you're a funny fel-j low. But I see you are in trouble. 1 Tell me about it. I am interested in you, Tony Marelli, and so I am curious to know why you'are not to return to the shop. Tell me, have you dis pleased your grandfather?" ... The boy could not resist the kind ness of that voice. "I—I am afraid, Signor," he fai tered. "And why? Tell me wtfy." "For answer a flame of color swept the boy's cheeks and brow." "Too much playing, eh?" "No, Signor." "Ah", well, you do not wfilath me to know," said the gentleman, as he rose hastily and laid a hand kindly upon the boy's shoulder. "But I think I understand this matter, anyway. Do not go, Tony. I am your friend, child. Trust me. You do not return because you have brought me the Stradi varius?" And then the pent-up tears gushed through Tony's fingers, that strove to hide his face. "And you are not to go back at all? Answer me, my boy. Not at all?" A low sob and an almost inaudible No, Signor." "Then I will tell you where you may go if you wish: with me to Leipsic, to learn to play of the violinist, Talma dor Ovad, himself." Learn of the master, Signor? But how could I do that?" Tony forgot his tears, and looked up with eyes like sunbeams in spring showers. "Well," said the gentleman, smiling, "enough of mystery! Talmador Ovad is my own dear brother, and he will teach you, I promise, when he hears you play his cradle song as you played it in the shop this morning. As to the rest, I will see to it. All is settled. You will go with me to night." "Oh, Signer!" And then, being speechless, Tony poured out his grati tude in passionate kisses on Signor Ovad's hand. "But, my grandfather, Signor? You will not let harm come to him? He is so old—so very old! Graciously forgive him, Signor. He did not take the violin from me, as he might have done. And perhaps he has not long to live—pardon Signor, because he is so old!" Melchior Ovad stroked his beard thoughtfully. "So old a rogue!" he muttered, frowning but, meeting the boy's en treating 'fcyes, he smiled and made haste to answer: "As you will, Tqny —because he is so old!"- Thg Mala To Prepare a Tasty, Tempting and Appetizing Dish of Macaroni or Spaghetti, you must have a Durum Wheat product. MOTHER'S MACARONI has a rich creamy flavor, and amber color when cooked. It is guaranteed to be made of the best Durum Wheat Flour. Ask for ^AC ARON^ THE OLD RELIABLE AGENCY ESTABLISHED IN 1881 J. QUINCY HAAS & CO. I E I N S U A N E Rooms 207-8-9 Capital Bank Bide. SAINT PAUL MINNESOTA "The House That Save* You Money' Ite Wallblom Furniture and Carpet Go. 398-408 Jackson ,St. ST. PAUL "Profit Sharing with Customers" Merchants Hotel GEO. R. KIBBE, Manager St. Paul, Minn.' 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