The Cairo bulletin. [volume] (Cairo, Ill.) 1872-1878, 1873-04-13

10 expect from her STOPPING ngurs' que
gathers few herbs for the pot-au-feu, and
goes into the house with them. There II
!. not much to be done there. Eugene
0 Duclos rises early, and the cabbage is al
ready shredded and in the soup-pof, ana
n cabbage soup and fish and a long Loaf Of
n dark-colored bread make up the daily fare
a Of the cottage. There will not DO any
fish To-day, for Jacques has not bcen out
these last nights, unless, indeed, he eI.
changes some OF his cabbage with bic
friend Pierre, the fisherman.
But the old woman mas plenty to do;
there are many broken loops in the net
that is dry on the vine branches, and IL
there were not these there would be stock
ings to knit for Jacques, or fresh
wood TO add TO the fagot stack from
among the FIR trees that make such dark
background ~ the stunted vineyard.
The hours passed away. Jacques is US
ually home again between three and four
O'Clock, but the lengthening shadows tell
his mother that her son 10 two hours late.
MA fol, Eugenie ~ She looks an ious
moment then a smile brightens the
wrinkled old checks. "Foolish old woman
that thou art, 10 not then thy Jacques 10
make an acquaintance as his brothers did,
with girl on HE wsy homer She signs
little and looks sad, for the word "broth-
ere has conjured up row of stalwart,
well-srown men, who have been taken
from their home one by one 10 serve 10
the army of the empire. But these were
much oldor than Jacques, and all are gone
now-gone TO the old father laid TO sleep
ia the cemetery OF Trochu.
A sudden tear rolls over the brown
cheek and falls on the Irvine with which
she Is threading her netting needle.
III Is not for the boys she says has
lily, aud then she brushes the bright drop
away with her sharp knuckles they have
gone 10 tho good God but sometimes 1t lie
very hard 10 me that / do not know
where so much As one of my four boys
lies. For my man it is different every
Sunday and every fete day l can 90 and
pray beside his grave, and keep the cross
painted and the immortelles fresh but l
can never go to Italy or 20 Algeris-I
can never pray beside my dsrling., and IL
Is possible that no one else has prayed at
their graves. All, but IL is a blessing that
my Jacques has not been taken for this
new war. Monsieur le Cure has said that
they do not take the only son Of
widow
Jacques must come in soon now
and yet, though each moment
she expects 10 hear the tinkle
Of B0bots boil, the old womans
heart does not tighten. She bustles about,
and when the table is spread she puts
Bobots supper Of coarse grass ready for
him under the shed.
The light has grown level, and shows |
in dusky lines of red behind the pine !
wood tue straight stems and branches Of |
the trees panel 1t into spaces. 1t is dusk !
ia front of the cottage when Eugene once |
more climbs up on her watch-tower.
She strains her eyes toward Trochu, but |
no one is in sight. "No one" she sigh..
ust then there comes the sudden, faint
iinkle she had been listening for.
something must have happened.
Jacques has never been 30 late; the self
restraint in which she has kept herself
gives way. She opens the little gate and
hurries along the sandy road.
Her heart gives a great jump At the
sight of Jacques. There 10 light enough
TO see that his head is dropping instead Of
being held erect. When his mother comes
lose up to him she sees that he looks very
lad.
Mechanically she takes hold OF Bobot's
bride and leads him toward the cottage
At brisker pace, but JACQUES does not
walk beside her.
"Ah ca, ina marel' he SAYS in answer
to her greeting, and then he shrinks back
and in few minutes 10 almost hid in tn
Increasing darkness.
mon Dieu "-Eugenie's heart grows
heavier stll--"whst has happened 1t
must be a grievous trouble which has
come TO my poor boy, II be will not tell it
20 his mother" .
She goes on musing. Can IL be that ;
Jacques cares for FRANCHISE, as Eugene :
an see FRANCHISE cores for him, and that /
acques has discovered some obstacle in |
he way Of his happiness
But that is not to be thought Of" shc !
ays, as she leads Bobot carefully into the
garden. "To begin with, Jacques is too
,oung-he would not speak yet; and
FRANCHISE has only her old grandmother,
md the old woman owes
he girl too much to stand be-
ween her and my Jacques. No
me could say No TO Jacques
t is no! love that ia troubling my boy !"
Her housewiiely instincts quiet her Ak
ETY.. She takes Bobot to his shed. and
hen lights Il little thin candle in wooden
;audlestick and puts it on the round tu-
Die which she has got ready for supper
Two wooden bowls and spoons, two horn ,
mugs, and narrow roll of bread about
hrce feet long, make the rest OF her prep ,
,ratons.
In turn she takes each bowl 10 the stove !
Ills each from the soup-pot, and sets both
On the table TO cool. She has already
brought in a dark red pitcher of water
md placed it in the corner fsrlhest from
he stove, but now sho goes to little
cupboard in ono corner Of the room and
brings out black bottle.
my good man used TO say that wine
vas sent US to cheer the hesvy-hearted,
lot TO make giddy those who are already
oyful; my Jacques will eat his potage and
rink some wine, and then he will tell
me what Is grievlng him.
But though Jacques comes IN and sits
Town ut the table, lac seems unable TO eat. !
All NJ once he notices the wine bottle, and
no half hlis his horn cup and drinks off !
he liquor greedily.
"Ma fol But, Jacques, eat then at /
east a bit Of bread the wine flles upward
I there is nothing to keep ii down"
Jacques does not smile HE lips are 20 {
.rmly closed that he looks almost surely
MS answer 10 to put his hand on the bot
lie aud pour out yet smother draught.
TINS tins Eggenie keeps silence :
Aer anxiety Las changed TO
alarm. She and her son are so very poor !,
bat OF late wine has been to them a rare
luxury, instead Of the every day drink
mat 1t IL In some southern districts
w nat can have hannpn,1