Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1879-08-05
TIE CHILD SPY.

He was "child of Paris" thin and
pale, and was ten, perhaps fifteen years
old, for one can never say exactly how
old those children are. His mother was
dead, and his father, an ex-marine, was
the guardian of a square in the quarter of
the Temple. The nurses and babies, the
old ladies who always carry their own
folding chairs, and the poor mothers, all
that small world Of Paris which seeks
shelter from vehicles, in those gardens
that are surrounded by pavements, knew
Father Stenne and loved him. They
knew that under his rough mustache,
which was the terror of dogs and dis
turbers of benches, was hidden kind,
tender and almost motherly smile. and
that in order to bring it forth they had
only to Say to the good man.:
How is your little son?''
For Father Steene loved his little son
so much!
He was so happy in the afternoon
when. after his school, the little boy
would call for him. and together they
would make the rounds of the paths,
stopping at each bench to speak to the
habitues of the square and to answer
their good wishes.
But when the siege began everything
was sadly changed Father Stenne's
square was closed and filled with pc
troleum, and the poor man, condemned
10 an ineessant surveillance, passed his
life in the deserted, upturned paths,
quite alone, not permitted to smoke, and
only seeing his little son late in the
evening at his home. You should have
seen his mustache when he spoke of the
Prussians. Little Stenne, however, did
not complain of this new life.
A siege. Nothing is more amusing
for such urchins. No more school, no
more studies Holiday all the while,
and the streets as exciting as fair.
The child ran about all day till night
fall. He followed the battalions OF the
quarter to the ramparts, choosing those
that had good band. Little Stenne
was well posted ON that subject. He
would tell you very glibly that the
Ninety-sixth band was not worth much,
but the Fifty fifth had an excellent one
Sometimes he would watch the mobiles
training, and then there were the pro-
cessions With his basket un-
der his arm he would join the long files
that were formed in the dark cold winter
mornings, when there was no gas, be-
fore the butchers and bakers shops
There, with their feet in the wet.
ances and talk politics, and, as he was
Mr.. Stenne's son, everybody would ask
him his opinion. But the most amusing
of all were the afternoon games, especi-
ally the famous game of galoche, which
the Breton mobiles made the fashion
during the siege. When little Stenne
was not at the ramparts or bakers shop
you would be sure to find him at the
square of the Chateau d'Eau. He did
not play, however; it needed too much
money; he was satisfied in watching the
players with all his eyes.
One especially, a great fellow in blue
workman's blouse. who only played
with five-franc pieces, excited his ad-
miration. When he ran one could hear
the coins jingling under his blouse.
One day as he was picking up piece
that had rolled under little Stenne's
feet, the great fellow said to him in a
low tone: "That makes you wink,
hey? Well, if you wish, I'll tell you
where they're to be found"
The game over, he took him to a
corner of the square and proposed that
he shouldjoin him in selling newspapers
to the Prussians-that he would make
thirty francs for every trip. At first
Stenne was very indignant and refused,
and what was more, he remained aWay
from the game for three days-three ter
rible days. He neither ate nor slept any
more At midnight he would see great
heaps of galoches piled on the foot Of his
bed and five-franc pieces moving over it,
bright and shining. The temptation
was too strong for him. The fourth day
he returned to the Chateau d'Eau, saw
the large fellow and was overcome
They set out one sunny morning, q
linen bag thrown over their shoulders
and their newspapers hidden under Their
blouses. When they reached the Elan
ders gate it was yet hardly dawn. The
large fellow took ST nne by the hand
ane appf oached the sentinel-a good
civilian with red nose and Kind air
He said to him, with plaintive tone:
Let us pass. my good monsieur Oul
mother is i'll and papa is dead. We arr
going to see. my little brother and I, i
we can't find some potatoes to pick ul
in the Fl elds."
He cried, and Stenne, who wa
ashamed, lowered his head. The sen
tinel looked at them a moment, ant
then, giving glance over the white
deserted road, Go quickly said he Il
them, moving aside; and then they wer
on the road to Auperville. How tn
large fellow laughed!
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