The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1881-06-30

my eyes with It's slate roof and proleeant
beams, hospitahls house II there e,el
was one Poor ialks tues the way 10 II
They entered with their wallet empty and
went away With il full We were all seat
ed one night at the freside my father wai
smoking bis pipe and watching the fir.
burn. my mother was ironing and wa
reading when We heard noise at the dooi
and saw enter boy with frightened looks
What is the matter'
II isa soldier very tired who has just
fallen exhausted before the door.
Nv father loved soldiers He rose
brusquely ran out, and there he Was, be
fore had taken step. coming in again
with a young soldier leaning on his arm,
or rather my father had taken him up and
WAS carrying him like a sack OF corn.
NV mother hAstened TO draw the big arm
chair up to the FIRE The soldier was made
10 sit, or rather recline in il aud my father
said. looking at the poor fellow:
Is it possiblel Walking in that statel
The fact 10 that the soldier was very
thin and pale. his hair iiattened on bis
forehead, the veins OF his temples big as
your little finger, his face black with dust,
We were then in the month Of October and
the weather was beginning to grow fresh,
but the poor fellow was sweating big
drops as il it had been dog days. He must
have had long tramp. His shoes we're in
shreds; you could see where the stones
bad torn the leather; the left foot was
bleeding The soldier did not move but
remained in the arm chair with his head
thrown back, his eye half open aud white
as sheet
Ny mother had already put some soup
on the fire and a pan full Of vine.
Bah, said my father, the first thing to
be looked after is the feet
And kneeling down he began to tear and
cut away the shreds ofleather The sol
ders feet, oil swollen and full OF blsters,
looked like the feet Of the martyrs, swollen
with pain and welted by hard cords, which
we see in the pictures of the Spanish
painters.
Ny father dipped his handkerchief in
and washed his wounds
You, he said to me, make some lint.
And / began to tear up some old linen
that my mother had taken out of the big
cupboard.
Meanwhile the soldier had como to him.
self He looked At us, at my father, my
mother and myself, and the two or three
neighbors who had come in ono after the
other His wandering eyes seemed to in
terrogate something. 1t was no longer
the road, the stones, the great de-
serted woods that he saw before him. but
a ceiling of shining oak, cloth on the
table, knife and fork laid and bowl
a savory smell OF cabbage soup.
Then he raised himself up leaning on
the arms of the chair, and said to my
father, with confused emotion:
All! monsieur. But do you know me.
Ali well, that does not matter; we will
become acquainted At the table.
We had already dined, but my father
wished to bear the soldier company. He
sat down to the table opposite him, as it
we're brooding over him. and looking at
the rsgimental buttons that shone on his
cloak. The soldier ate. and ate heartily,
my mother served him. My father took
charge Of the wine and the glasses did
not long remain empty.
Well, said my father Suddenly, pointing
to the tin box that the soldier carried
slung on cord, you have finished your
time, for there is your congo. Then why
do You kill yourself by toiling along the
highway? see how the matter stands.
You have no monoy to pay for the dill
yencc.
l. replied the soldier have received
my pay and bounty. aud my mother has
sent me enough to pay for a place in the
coupe, il liked. But could not.
l understand, said my father who did
not understand at all. Then he asked for
mother bottle Of wine.
When the meal was over the soldier
ried to walk Ho tottered, uttered a
'mothered cry, and fell back into the
hair. then saw tear in his eye. He
vas yonng man, rather thin, bat nervous
lark, and with an energetic look. He was
lot man to shed tear for little, and
hat tear puzzled me.
All, be said, with movement in which
here was little anger and good deal OF
,rief; shall not be able to walk until to.
morrow morning.
Walk, cried my mother, terrified.
The soldier shook his head.
You don't know, must.
1t was vow.
In our Ardennes those primitive souls
ave respect and faith. / saw my father
ook the young man IN the face without
and with mute interrroga-
ion.
Yes, said the soldier will tell you the
'hole story. You have, perhaps, saved.
ny life; ought, at least. to tell you who
m. Ny name is Jean Chevaucheux and
ny father is wood splitter at Mexieres,
e il an honest man, like you, monsieur.
'even years ago, when ] drew for con.
was madly in love with Mar
'ueri,e Servan. good hearty girl aad
'retty ono. had already sked her in
marriage, and her father had not said no;
,ut, see, Pierre PuviorI had asked her in
marriage q. the ssms time tina, did.
'ieue puyiour is man Of my age who
. r,f.a III. heart IL. his hanl "a ths ssvtng