Gift to America

Recently the Abbe Loubiere, priest at the towering Church of the Sacre Coeur, Mpntmartre, Paris, passed the turnstile of the funicular railway which ascends the mont, sat down on a hard bench in one of the funicular cars, beamed with approbation upon three U. S. women who were already seated on the bench.

The motorman opened a valve, admitting water to the mechanism which works the railway. Gently jolting, the car moved perpendicularly up the cliff, atop which is perched the glorious white marble Sacre Coeur. Courteous, the Abbe Loubiere pointed out the "sights." Awed by the splendor of the view, slightly seasick at the sheer drop below them, the three tourists barkened eagerly.

When the car jolted to a stop the Abbe Loubiere shepherded his new-found charges about the Sacre Coeur, pointed out the giant Christ above the altar, blessed a rosary for one of the young women.

Then, pattering eagerly ahead, he led them to a tiny door, opened it, revealed a dark ascending stair. "This stairway leads," said the Abbe Loubiere, "to the dome. There the view is truly superb. Come!" Last week the Abbe gathered newspapermen about him on the steps of the Sacre Coeur, confided eagerly:

"I have just given away my chateau! For the past four years I have been wondering what I would do with it--it is the Chateau de Taurines in Aveyron--a great massive castle built for defense against the Saracens, for which I have no-use. . . .

"Then a. month ago three American girls came here to the Church. One of them asked me to bless a rosary, and because I am always interested in Americans I took her up and up into the great dome to see the view.

"There she confessed to me that it was her dream to direct a school of singing in France for American girls whose voices were their only fortunes.. . .

"Almost at once I decided that this was the opportunity for which I had been looking. I would give her my chateau! I have given it to her. The papers were drawn up and completed yesterday."

A newsgatherer tugged at the Abbe's sleeve: "What is her name, Father?"

"Ah," said the Abbe Loubiere, "her name is Madame Pearl Flanagan, and she lives in a city of which I had never heard until she told me of it, Wichita, Kansas."

Mrs. Flanagan, duly interviewed, said:

"One doesn't get a chateau given to one in trust like that and then not go through with the purpose for which the gift was made. I admit my plans are not yet very definite. I have got to talk the matter over with many people at home and see my way clearly first. But I know I can do it. This gift of a French priest to American art is not going to be wasted."

Mrs. Flanagan's two pupils, the Misses Mary Rodes Watson and Noella Wible, now visiting Paris for the first time with their teacher, cried: "It's wonderful!"