Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1871-11-22

held up the laughing baby. Jacques face
became radiant, as he stood leaning on his
'rutches watching the mother and child, and
then limped quickly back again into the
house. Then Marie leaned out for moment
ner whole face involuntarily changing as she
looked Tor the last time into the misty dis.
lance, beginning, perhaps, TO realize with
something like despair the level duness of
her future daily life--it was passionate fare.
we'll look-a helpless, wistess gaze she was
young and eager with throbbng pulses and
an aching heart that revolted against the wo-
mans relentless will. The child looked up
INTO the altered face its geefu growing chang.
cd to little weak scared cry Marie started
back, aud bending her head low over her
baby, hushed its wailing sobs. And in the
ladlng light | saw the indstnct outlines of
Jacques good-humored, meaningless face
he put bis hand lightly on Marie's shoulder
aud drew her into the room; he shut the win.
dow and began to trim the evening lamp with
his deit hands, Aud from behind the lamp
saw Mare's grand figure passing to and fro
as she hushcd her child TO sleep there was
silence in the room, and in the blessed still
ness knew that she would gain strength and
ealm-that peaceful calm that steals its way
into woman's soul, when she folds in her
urn arms the sacred burden of sleeping
child.
CONCLUSION
When the snow had melted, and the tender
blades Of grass had sprung out from the
brown mold in the fields and hedges, and
small buds had dotted the slender shoots of
the trees, | went to bid farewell to the viii
layers of Nilleiranche. 1t may be in the
coming years | shall see them again in times
OF peace and plenty, when war is no longer
devastating the rich gardens of the Ardennes,
and fever and famine are passed away as
tale that is told. But never can forget
France as she appeared to me then, beauti-
iul amid her woes" her proud spirit un-
broken, her faith in her old prestige unshakcn,
her children silently suffering in her cause
how bright, how patient, how proudly uncom-
planning they were how soft, how winning,
how warm-hearted what quick sensihiities,
what flashes OF keen humor, what dignity and
grace. Are the French indeed 20 calous and
frivolous these earnest devoted husbands,
these tender helpful wives, supporting with
their united unwearied efforts large families
OF bright-eyed children What a rich study
we're the faces of the old men and women
Lite had not slipped idly past them their
old age was stored with rich memories. We
wept for their suferipgs, but no tears came
from their eyes; they suffered in silence,
waiting and hoping it was but black cloud
passing over the blue breadth Of their sky
1t would break and disperse and France
would appear from behind it brighter, great.
er, more glorious than before. So thought
the simple peasants.
| found Marie's old mother sitting spinning
outside the door, in the checkered sunlight.
" And as you, too, are going, and Heinrich
has gone nothing is left--c'est Ia guerre,
c'est Ia gterre"
Within, Jacques was seated at the table.
having writing lesson Marie stood at his
elbow, guiding his pen.
" 1t is never too late to mend" said JAG
ques, as he rose to give me his chair. al
ought to know how to write; | ought to have
written to Marie when | was away. She has
told me all. do not blame her; the fault
was mine"
| put into his hand letter that had Just
received from an unknown correspondent, an
nouncng the death Of Heinrich, who had
been shot at Orleans. When he was dying,
he asked his doctor to write me few lines
e" He wishes you to know that he is at rest,
Marie, and that his last prayer was for happi.
ness for you and Jacques"
Marie wept as she read the letter. Jacques
drew her close to him, and sheltered the tear.
stained face. "Nlarie," he said gently, IL
suffer such pain, such constant gnawing pain,
that sometimes wish | too had been killed
outright"
Marie quickly raised her head the hot
tears ceased to flow.
"No, dear Jacques; no, it is much better
as it is"
She supported him to couch, and, sitting
down beside him, held his thin suffering hand
in hers.
when you touch me, Marie, the pain
seems to pass away from me-
81 am SO glad she whispered, bending
over him her wistful, smiling face.
went out softly. babe them no fare.
well but as | left, /, too, like Heinrich,
prayed that Marie and Jacques might be hap
py, with such happiness as God gives those
who do not question, nor struggle against
destiny, but work and wait, earning that long
rest which is the end of life.