The Louisiana cotton-boll. [volume] (Vermilionville [i.e. Lafayette], Attakapas, La.) 1872-1883, 1875-08-25

| November l have entertained for Won
sincere esteem, In the army you have
been held as a dutifuI soldier. On en-
tering Strasbourg heard of your crime
and condemnation. The jailor of the
prison being q relation of mine, / was
able to obtain this interview. Those
about to die of5en regret that there is
not some friend near to whom they can
oonfde their last wishes. What can I
do for youP
"Thanks, Colnrade; I have made my
peace, and have no wish," lie Preux
said, briefly.
Have you nothing TO say92
Nothing" ~
"Not even farewell to some young
heart yearning for your return-no
message to sister ?"
"No one watches for my return. [
have not any sister had one."
"a father ?"
He has been dead for years"
"And your mother ?" the stranger
pressed each question earnestly.
"My mother |" reiterated Jules,
bowing his face upon his hands, the
tone of his voice deepening, " Mother
u1Ob1CA hB bbluf bGH1AuIlys Oh AO
not even utter her name" he continued,
fixing his eyes upon the man. "She is
dead. [ have only one hour or two of
life; then we will meet and before her
/ must lay tarnished record" As he
spoke his strong frame shook with sup
pressed emotion.
"Do you remember your motherP
LIE Preux questioned, after amoment Of
silence.
"Yes, I loved her, and was in return
beloved" was the quiet response.
Then 1 can open my heart to you.
It is comfort in this hour to pour out
my soul. Will you listen?"
II am listening, Jules, with sympa-
thy and interest,"
"I was the only son of widow; my
native village was called Folk. can
only remember my father; he died
many years ago, but / can still recall
the pressure OF his hand upon my head,
aa il rested there in his last blessing.
] grew to manhood with but one affec-
tion, and that centered upon my moth
or, I was her sole companion; her
life was one of piety--devoted to the
poot who received her only visits. To
the gentle teaching Of that mother /
owe my little store of knowledge, From
early youth she had sought to instil
into my mind lofty sense OF duty. |
was called to serve my flag. Filled
with despair atthe thought of leaving
her, Iprotestea /; In my hour Of weak.
ness che strengthened and encouraged
me. She bade me 60 for her sake. With
tender smile upon her white lips she
blessed me, telling me that my country
claimed a higher duty of me than my
holy duty to herself, adding it was the
will of God. sShould you die before
me, my son, will still have strength
TO say, Father, inte Thy haRds / COM
mend his spirit. Go, and, as you love
me, be faithful to your duty These
were her last words, and departed.
We had returned from Spain, flushed
with the glory of conquest. | endeaV-
ored TO obtain leave, but, owing to the
determination of the emperor to invade
Germany, I was obliged to abandon
the thought. / followed my regiment
to Strasbourg. One morning received
letter from my beloved mother, tell
ing me that she was i'll. A great longing
possessed me to see her. / requested
leave, but it was refused. remembered
her last words AS you love me, be
faithful to your duty. I resigned my
self. A week or more elapsed when o
letter from the curate of the parish
reached me. It told briefly that my
mother was dying-there was no hope.
NV reason forsook me. AT all risks |
determined to return home. The yearn-
ing TO at last pray beside her grave, if
I might not look upon her dear face,
tortured me day and night. Like many
of the simple peasants of our mountain
village, I am imbued with superstitious
belief-a belief that has strengthened
with my years, and which have cher
ished, and which no argument could
DESTROY. This superstition taught me
to believe that the first flower which
blooms above the grave OF loved one
possesses o peculiar charm the one
who gathers and retains it is never for
gotten by the dead. It was sacred and
comforting thought. With this belief
in my heart, death seemed robbed Of
half its sting, and becomes only sweet
rleep. like rest after fatigue. This
flower I desired to SEQ bloom That ]
might gather il, and with it the NlesBed
assurance of immortal remembrance.
Tbe night the troops left Strasbourg /
fed. After o weary journey OF ten days
1 reached Folk, TO find, alas, only
grave. She had died blessing me. The
earth was still fresh and soft beneath
the green sod, but no flower had made
M appearance. I waited weeks passed.
Az length I rose at dawn one morning
and wended my way 10 the little church.
yard. The sky was covered with tieecy
clouds. ma The sun rose in golden
olorv Al I knelt beside the grave.
There, midst the green grass, saw 2
flower IDS tiny leaves were open. ana
on the blue bosom rested softly, like a
sweet promise, d ray Of morning sun
light. Is was The little blossom For
cet aae-not. MY mothers soul seemed
To look into my eyes pleadingly, while
whispering Remember me- jules, re-
member me, Believing myself truly IN
the sacred presence OF the dead, 4
gathered nav treasure in silence, and,
Witb tears of gratitude and nope, rose
10 depart. Nothing now retained me at
Folk. and the words If Won love me,
Do faithful 10 Your duty, ! seemed to
hear at every turn; the very AR was
Allied with the sound. THAT duty made
me- deliver myself up to justice. l had
violated commands, and was dsserter.
] obeyed, accepting calmly, resignediy,
the sentence awarded. / am about to
ale. Yeu say you are my friend. have
but one request /; IL you will grant u !
can die without regret, even peacefully
IN ! lonkat anspended around my neck