The Opelousas journal. [volume] (Opelousas, La.) 1868-1878, 1873-01-25

iOus moment, and then smile bright.
ems the wrinklcd old cheeks. "Fo0lisl
old woman that thou art, is not ther
thy Jacques to make an acquaintance
as his brothers did, and smoke q pipe
with friend, and chat with a girl OF
| his way hOme?" She sighS little anC
looks sad, for the word "brOthers" has
cOnjurcd mp row of stalwart, we'll
grown men, who have been taken from
their home one by one to serve in the
army Of the empire. But these wert
all much Older than Jacques, and all are
gone nOw-gone to the old father laid
to sleep in the cemetery of Trochu.
A sudden tear rolls over the brown
cheek and falls on the twine with which
she is threading her netting needle.
"It is not for the bOys,n she says
hastily, and then she brushes the bright
drop away with her sharp knuckles
they have gone to the good God; but
sometimes it is very hard to me that
do not know where so much rs one of
my four boys lies. For my man it is
different: every Sunday and every fetc
day | can go and pray beside his grave
and keep the cross painted and the
immOrtclles fresh; but | can never 90
to Italy or to Algcria-I can never pray
beside my darlingS, and it is possible
that no one else has prayed at their
graves. All, but it is a blessing that
my jacques has not been taken for this
1eW war. Monsieur le Cure has said
hey do not take the only son of Il
widow"
1t was not the habit of Eugenie Du-
clNs to indulge herself, so she got up,
AMI to shake off her unusual depression,
hean to get supper ready.
Jacques must come i'll soon now; and
yet, hOugh each moment she expects to
hear he tinkle of BObOt's bells, the old
WomMs heart does not tighten. She
buStl@ about, and when the table is
spreading puts BObOt's supper of coarse
grass rady for him under the shed.
The Eht has grown level, and shows
Ill duskylines Of red behind the pine
wood tn strai ght stems and branches
OF the tres panel it into spaces. 1t is
dusk i'll frnt of the cottage when Eu-
genie ono, more climbs up ON her
Watch-tOWe.
She strais her eyes toward Trochu,
but no one Ii in sight "NO one," she
slghs. just hen there comes the sud
den faint TIME she had been listening
for.
Something must have happened.
jacques has nyer been so late; the
self-restraint lnyhich she has kept her
self gives way. She opens the little
gate and hurrleslOng the sandy road.
Her ne2rt glVest great jump at the
sight OF jacques. here is light enough
to see that ms hea is dropping instead
OF being held erec1 When his mother
comes close up to In she sees that he
looks very sad.
Mechanically she axes hold of Bo-
bots bride and leas him toward the
cottage at a brisker 7ace, but Jaoues
does not walk beside hr.
"Ah ca, ma mere :" he SAWS in an
swer to her greeting and then he
shrinks back and in Few minutes is
almost hidden in the increasing dark
ness.
"Mon Dieu!''-Eugenies heart grows
heavier still" what has happened?
1t must bea grievOB trouble which has
come to my poor bOy,if he will not tell
it to his mother"
She goes on musing. CAN'T be that
Jacques cares for FTaIeOise, asEnonnin
can see FRANCOIS caresfor him, and that
jacques has discoveretsOme obstacle in
the way Of his happinSs?
But that is not tObe thought Off
she says, as she 1eadsBObot carefully
into the garden. "Tobegin with, ,Tac-
ques is too yOung-he Wufd not sneak
yet; and FRANCHISE lis only her old
grandmother, and the oil woman owes
the girl too much to stfGd between her
and my jacques. NoOne could say
NO to Jacques; it is Ot love that is
troubling my boy.1 . J.
! Her housewifely instincts quiet her
anxiety. She takes BObo to lis shed,
4r
wooden candlestick and pits it on the
round table which she ,hasgot resdy for
supper. Two wooden b0EB and A0ons,
bread about three feet lOIE, maxi the
rest of her preparations.
i In turn she takes each eOwl t6 the
stove, fills each from the sauD-potan1
sets both on the table to cod. SheIas
already brought in a dark red pitoer
of water and placed it in.the corer
farthest from the stove, but now he
goes to little cupboard in ane CORN
of the room and brings out ablack be-
tie. = -
"My good man used to saythat win
was sent us to cheer the hea!-hearted
not to make Gddy those .wD are al
ready Joyful my Jacques Wll eat his
potage and drink some wine, and ther
he will tell me what is grieving him."
But though Jacques comes in and sits
down at the tabla, he seems unable to eat
All at once he notices the wine bottle
and he half fills lis horn cup and drinks
off the liquor greAdily.
"Ma fol But, jacques, eatthen a.
least a bit of bread; the wine ffes up
ward it there is nothing to Keep i
down."
|. Jaques does not smile; his lips are sc
firmly closed that he looks almOst sur
ly; his answer is to put his hand On the
;, bottle and pour out yet another dmught
This time Eugene keeps silence; hel
anxiety has changed 10 alarm. She ant
her son are sOvery pOT that of late wine
has been a rare luxury, instead f the
every day drink that it is in some
southern districts. What can hayehap
) pened?
He sits upright q few moments, thu
then suddenly his head dloops, he casp
his hands quickly over his face AMI
: rests his elbows on the table.
His mother gets up; sheputs her arm
around his neck and kisse. the strons
T brown hands that cover hisface. They
are wet with tears, and as ler arm cir
. cles round him as only a nlather's arm
can circle, a great sllud uddering sob shakei
him from head to foot.
"My darling, my good chill, tell thy
mother what it is, then-whOis it, then
my jacques, who has so grieved thee :?
l just the same caress, almostthe sam
3. words she would have said to her bo
ten years ago. She draws his 4ead t
= her till it rests on her shoulder hut sh
asks no futher questions. My BRAY
R2eqaeSs Fin my nd g9oG H boy M r be and m I Res1 s
! can speak in words.
The struggle is soon over; Jague
. pounds his knucl1les into his eyesan,