The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1878-04-20

IetuT0. Sne r6meUUeTs Tie ttHle Wneu
her son, before he left for the army, was
on that spot at the very same hour of
the day, attending to the little garden.
She looks at the well where he filled his
watering pots, in his blouse, his long hair
on his shoulders-the beautiful, bright
hair that was cut off when he joined the
zouaves. Suddenly she starts. The door
in the corner Of the garden wall, which
opens into the fields, is open. The dogs
have not barked. Still, he who enters
creeps along the wall like thief, and
slips between the trees and beehives.
"Motherp
Her Christian stands before her, his
uniform disordered, shamefaced, con-
fused, and with thick utterance. He
had returned with the others, and for
the past hour had hung about the house,
waiting for his father to go out before he
dared to venture in.
She should scold him, but she cannot.
1t is so long since she has seen him, and
kissed him! Then he gives her such
good reasons for returning. He was SC
unhappy away from the forge, from
his country, spending his days so fan
away from those he loved, and the dis
cipline becoming more rigid from day to
day, and being called "Prussian" by
his comrades because Of his Alsatian ac-
cent. She believes every word he
utters. She need but look at him to be-
lieve.
Still conversing, they go into low.
studded room. The little ones, awak-
ened, come in their white dresses, with
bare rosy feet, to embrace and welcome
the big brother.
His mother would have him eat, blu t
| he is not hungry; still he is thirsty, and
/ gulps down great draughts of water, over
all the beer and white wine that he has
been drinking since morning at the inn,
/ to give him courage to face what he
knows will be his fathers anger.
They hear steps approaching the
house. 1t is the blacksmith returning.
christian, it is your father. Quick
hide yourself, to give me time to speak
/ to him-to explain"
She pushes him behind the huge por-
celain stove, and with trembling hands
takes up her work
In her haste, the zouave's cap has
been left upon the table. 1t is the first
/ thing that Lory sees as he enters. The
mothers pallor and her agitation betray
! her. The truth flashes across Lory's
mind-he sees it all.
Christian is here" he cries furiously,
and grasping his saber. With a wild
gesture he rushes toward the stove, be-
hind which covers the zouave, pale and
sobered, leaning against the wall for fear
of falling.
The mother throws herself between
them.
Lory, Loryl do not kill him. 1t was
| who wrote him to come back-that
you needed him in the forget"
She clings to his arm, weeps and en-
treats In the darkness of their room
the children are crying, frightened by
the voices, SO changed by passion that
they do not recognize them.
The blacksmith stops, and looking at
his wife: "Ahl you wrote him to come
back? Very well, let him go to bed
tomorrow will see what is to be DONE u
On the morrow Christian, awakening
from a heavy sleep, full of Nightmares
and causeless terrors, finds himself in the
room that had been his in childhood.
The sun is shining warmly and brightly
through the loaded, diamond-shaped
panes, over which a hop-vine makes q
verdant network; below the hammer
sounds on an anvil.
The mother is at his bedside; in fact
so much did she fear her husbands anger,
that she has not left her son during the
night. Lory has not slept, either; till
morning he wandered through the
house, weeping, signing, opening and
shutting the clothes-presses. Now, be
gravely enters his sons room. He is
dressed as for Il journey, with high leg
gings, a broad hat, and heavy iron
bound stick; he goes directly to the bed.
Come, get up
Christian, somewhat confused, is about
to put on his uniform. "No; not that, "
says the father sternly.
Trembling, mother interposes: "But
he has no others"
"Give him mine / have no further
use for them"
While Christian is dressing, Lory
folds the uniform carefully-the short
jacket and the full red trousers. The
bundle made up, he hangs about his
neck the tin box that contains the way.
bill.
{" Now let US go down." he says, and
all three descend to the forge without ex.
changing word.
The bellows roar, and every one is al
work. Seeing once more the open shed
of which he had thought so often wher
far away, the Zouave remembers his
childhood, and how often he has played
between the heat of the road and the
sparks of the forge glittering in the BLACK
dust. A feeling of tenderness comes
over him, and an intense desire to obtair
his fathers forgiveness, but whenever ht
raises his eyes, he meets an memorable
look.
At last the blacksmith speaks:
Lad" said he, "there is the anvil
the tools-they are yours, and all tina
also" added he, pointing to the little
garden spread out before them, full o.
sunlight and huzzing bees, and greer
peacefulness, like picture, seen through
the smoky frame of the doorway. "Th'
beehives, the vineyard, the house, al
belong to you. Since you have sacrificed
your honor for these things, it is but jus
that you should have them. You ar
master here, am going You owe fiv,
years to France, and | go to pay you
debt"
"Lory, Loryl where are you going p
cries the poor mother.
g Father" entreatingly falters thu
son, but the blacksmith is gone, will
long strides, not turning once to lool
back.
At Sidiebel-Abbes, at the headquar
tiers of the Third Zouaves, there is new