The Little Sisters of the Poor. By Mrs. Abel Ram.
(Longmans.) —This Order of the Little Sisters of the Poor is one of the most remarkable phenomena of the time. Fifty years ago it did not exist. Now it has more than two hundred and fifty houses, which at the present time shelter more than thirty-three thousand old men and women under the care of between four and five thousand Sisters. The story of its beginning is full of pathetic interest. Its founder was a parish-priest of St. Servan, the Abbe Le Pailleur. With him were associated two sempstresses, Marie Jamet (now " Good-mother General " of the entire congregation), and Virginie Tredamel (who died in 1853). A fourth person, who must be associated with these, is Jeanne Ingan, the first " quoteuse " (a gueteuse, it should be explained, is one who begs for food). It was to Jeanne Ingan's lodging that the first inmate of the institu- tion, a blind woman, by name Anne Chauvin, was taken. Shortly afterwards another old woman was taken in. Before the end of a year a larger room, capable of holding twelve beds, was taken. It was then that the idea of begging was taken up. The in- mates were themselves beggars, but not single-minded, for they would sometimes spend some of their gains on a glass of spirits. The scheme met with opposition from without, and there were no small difficulties within, for the old creatures entertained were not by any means angels. That word rather belongs to their entertainers. Here is a scene which a visitor witnessed and described. Jeanne and ber companions were about to begin their meal, some bread and a lump of pastry, when one of the old women declared that she was still hungry. They gave her what they had. And it was afterwards found that she hid the food under her mattress, and sold it for a halfpenny as pig-meat! Here is another story of these women's patience. One day Jeanne was doing her work as gueteuse, and her victim, out of temper at seeing her remain after he had bidden her go, gave her a slap on the face. " Well done, monsieur," cried Jeanne, " now something for my poor," holding out her hand. The slap was well paid for. But we must hold our hand. Columns could be filled with the story. Our readers must go to Mrs. Ram's volume.
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