Louisiana capitolian., 1880-07-10
THE DRUMMER BOY:

One cold December morning, about
eighty years ago, aparty Of tourists were
crossing tho Alps-aud pretty large
party, to0 for there were several thous-
ands of them together. Some were rid
ing some walking and most OF them had
l.napsaCLs on their shoulders, like many
Alpine tourists nowadays. But instead
Of walling-sticks they carried muskcts
and bayonets. and dragged along with
them some fifty or sixty cannon,
In fact these tourists were nothing
less than a French army; and a very hard
time of it they seemed to be having.
Trying work, certainly even for the
strongest man, to wade for miles through
knee-dcep in this bitter frost and biting
wind, along these narrow, slippery
mountain.paths, with precipiccs hun
dreds of feet deep a!lround. The soldiers
looked thin and heavy-eyed for want of
food and sleep, and the poor horses that
we're dragging tho heavy guns stumbled
at every step.
But there was Quo among them who
seemed quite to enjoy the rough march
ing, and tramped along through the
deep snow and cold gray mist, through
which tho great mountain peaks oyer
head loomed like shadowy giants, as
merrily as il he were going to pic-nic.
This was q little drummer-boy of 10
years old, whose fresh, rosy face looked
very bright and pretty among the grim,
SCARED visages of the old soldiers.
When the cutting wind whirled show
or of snow in his face he dashed it away
with CHEEKY laugh, and awolie all the
echoes with the lively rattle Of bis drum,
till it seemed as if the huge black rocks
around were all singing in chorus.
Bravo, Petit Tambourr Qittle drum
mer) cried q tall man in a shabby gray
cloak, who was marching at tho head Of
the line, with long pole in his hand,
and striking it into the snow every now
and then, to see how deep it was,
Bravo, Pierre, my boy With such
music ~ that one could march all the
way to Moscow
The boy smiled, and raised his hand
to his cap in salute, for this rough look
ing man was no other than the General
himself Fighting Macdonald, ono Of
the bravest soldiers in France, of whom
his men used to say that one sight Of his
face in battle was worth whole regi-
ment.
Long live our General shouted q
hoarse voice, aud the cheer, flying from
mouth to honth, rolled along the silent
mountains hke peal OF distant thun-
der.
But its echo had hardly died away
when the silence was again broken by
another sound of q very different kind
astrange, uncanny sort of whispering
far away up tho great white mountain
side. Moment by moment it grew loud.
or and harsher, till at length it swelled
into deep, hoarse roar.
On your faces, lads = roared the Cen
eral; it's nn avalancher
But, before his mon had time to obey,
tho ruin was upon them. Down thun-
dered the great mass of snow, sweeping
the narrow ledge path with water. fall,
and crashing down along with it came
heaps of stones and gravel and loose
earth. and uprooted bushes, and great
blocks of cold blue ice. For q moment
all was dark as night and when the rush
had passed, many of the brave fellows
VITO had been standing on the path were
nowhere to be seen, They had been car,
ried down over the precipice, and either
killed or buried alive in the SNOW.
But the first thought of their comrades
was not for them. When il was seen
what had h9nOeurl one rrv. arose from,