Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-12-14

not be punished for crime you never
committed. If anybody is to be blamed
it's your superiors, who forgot everything
about you"
Firmin Bonsrd made no answer, but
swept with despairingly hopeful eye
the distant horizon. Alas, there was not
the feck of single sail to be seen, and
again he gave way to his grief.
"Take my ADVICE" said the old man,
'and bear up with a good heart. You
too arc from the rural parts, unless I am
| greatly mistaken, and can find in me a
true friend il you are only willing to let
me befriend YOU
"But you know nothing about me
whether am fit
Il am an old man and long accustomed
| to read the faces of my fellows" said the
peasant, .smiling. 'Before you took up
the musket you have held the pillow. +
need laborer, vigorous and intelligent
like yourself. Come with me and I will
lodge. feed and clothe you, and see that
you have something in your pocket every
Saturday night for a Sunday frolic.
~ accept your offer thankfully" said
Firmln Bonard, "and you shall see that
French soldier is not less faithful to
the pillow by which he gains livelihood
than he was to the flag of his distant
country"
| AS the farm of Peter Baxtan, the peas
ant with whom Firmin Bonard had fall
en- in, was one of the largest in the island
he soldier returned to his old calling,
did not lack for opportunities to show
his skill and industry, and speedily con-
| WINGED the rich peasant of his value.
"My FRIEND" he said to Firmin one
day, II love you as 1 would my own
son."
eff it were not" replied Firmin, 'sthat
my old father in France waits and hopes
anxiously for my return, 1 should never
care to leave Rugen."
! "You will see him once more,o said
the. farmer; ''and when you 60 to France
to,,see him, why should YOU not bring
him back to Rugen W tn you2 That how
ever, we can talk of at some future time.
To-day I wish to speak to you concern
ing my daughter"
A flush covered the young French
mans face, as the peasants keen eye saw
"If I am not wroug," he continued, 'sshe
and you are very friendly"
Firmin stammcred something unintel-
legible.
"In fact,' the old man went on. "the
nelghbors say that you are in love with
her."
'What? Who saps so? I swear to you,
sir, that have never addressed to your
daughter one word which would make
her aware
''Precisely, and that is why she has
desired me to ask yon. You shall marry
her. | have already promised her that it
would be so, and she Rugged me so for "a
quarter of an hour by the clock that I
really thought she would strangle me-"
Firmln Rugged him, too, and a fort
nlghtslater became the husband of the
old mans only child, the rich, pretty and
amiable Amelia.
-Four years passed al1eady-four years
OF toll and love. Firmin Bonard thought
often of France, but came to forget his
technical desertion. The prattling of
his two children, the3 embraces of his
wife were a present that answered for
the future; small wonder that he forgot
the past.
So matters went on until one morning
the signal was made that several vessels
were in sight; then as they drew nearer
the word went round the island,
ut is the French They are going to
land!"
1T is the French! They arc going to
land!"
The words came to Firm1n Bonard's
ears like alarm guns, and he felt he was
a lost man. A sudden thought came to
him, however, and reassured him some
what; dashing to his dwelling, he put on
his old uniform and shake and ran to
the spot where, some five years before,
he had been so strangely abandoned.
Some barges filled with soldiers were
seen to put off from the ships that had
rounded to and dropped anchor. In the
bow of one was big white poodle that
barked joyously on seeing the solid
ground once more.
Firmin Bonard saw the dog and fan
cied that he recognized in him Old Ca
pucin, and his eyes filled with tears.
Still the barges approached; Capucin
1t was Carucin indeed evidently rec
ognized the island, looked round eager
~, esnled the sentry, then standing on
his hind-legs gave one rapturous howl
and plunging into the sea swan with all
his might seward.
An instant later and the boats were
within hailing distance.
"Who goes there?" shouted Firmin b.
nard, in voice Of thunder.
"Who goes there, yourself, answered
one OF Davoust's staff from the leading
boat. "Who are you, anyhow?'
'eFirmin Bonard, private of the Sixty
eight of the liue, on guard.,'
'On guard? How long have you been
on guard?"
'Since twelve o'clock on the night of
May Is, 1907"
At this reply every one burst out
laughing. The first boats PROV had not
quite touched the strand when Capucin
had scrambled up the steep rock and
with tremendous bound cast himself,
| barking turiously, into the arms of his
old friend. Banks, gamboling, sumer-
saults, licking Of hands, face, feet-all
imaginable demonstrations of canine ioy.
| 'Go on, old fellow" sobbed the SOL
dier, with tears rolling down his cheeks;
''tear my coat and muddy it as much as
you like today, and I won't say any,
thing. I remember when I struck YOU
tor showing me all your affection and
intelligence
When he had somewhat recovered
from his emotion, Firmin Bonard, fol-
lowed by the faithful dog, went down to
the beach to greet his comrades and tell
his story. Luckily the corporal, now an
officer on Davoust's staff, was there, and