News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1884-10-30
The Mute.
A STRANGE STORY.

Dan tu6 pcdott1lo CACldluAOu
Charles. "Have nothing to do with
them. During the war they treated the
Prussians better than they treated us.
The sharpshooters hated them worse
than they hated the plague.
"You are wrong, my good fellow, P"
said Pierre Nerot, who was leaning
against the mantel.
"Ah you know better than 1 ?" asked
Charles.
"Yes. An occasion arose recently
which proved to me that during the
terrible year true -Frenoh hearts
throbbed under the blouse as well as
under the uniform"
There were eight or ten members of
the circle grouped about Pierre Nerot.
"A story I" they all cried.
"Last summer" said Nerot, 81 was
with an old college friend, Dubrenil,
who had established himself as physi-
clan at his home in little place in the
Vosges. We had risen from the table
one day and were about to go for walk
in the neighboring wood. Dabreuil had
lighted his pipe and 1 my cigar, and we
were already on the steps when the
sound of footsteps made US turn our
heads. There is the postman,' said my
companion. wait for me second. 1
have letter to give him. / left it up
stairs on my bureau Saying this he
re-entered the house.
''I looked at the new conner. He was
young man of twenty-six or twenty
seven years, apparently of pleasant yet
energetic disposition, with an open
countenence and bright glance. When
he saw me ne inclined his head slightly
IN salutation. 'Ah,' I said TO myself
this is not a garrulous person. He does
1ot even say good-day.' Then address
ing him, said:-
est is hard work, is it not, running
about in such warm weather.
He nodded his head in assent. Alb,
thought, he does not know how TO speak
The young man read my surprise In m!
looks. He smiled, somewhat sadly, an(
then, putting two fingers to his lips, HI
shook his head. This time 1 under
stood.
"'You are dumb, my poor fellowP
said.
cat this moment Dubreuil returne
with his letter in his hand. He ha
heard my question.
eyes he said, 'he is dumb, poo
Jean Barrot. But that does not pr
vent him from performing his duti
we'll, since he can read and write al
, can hear all that is said to him.
"'Then he was not born dumb, as
is not deaf +
"'No, he was not born dumb.
"Did he become so by accident 2
".Accident is, perhaps, not the rig
word. Is it, JeanP
"The young man smiled in an emb'
rassed manner. He extended his ha
) for-the letter which Dubreull held. L
latter laughed.
"'Ah, my boy, that annoys you. I
know I am going to tell your story a
Won do not wish to remain to hear
Very well, will not detain you.
not tell it till you have gone.
"And Dubreuil, giving him the lett
pressed his hand warmly.
s.Tne Young man saluted us, turn
his back aud departed with long strld
+ Then Dubreuil took my arm and told
the following story, as he led me tow
the wood whose verdure seemed to slu
her in the white light of the Aug
sun.
: Jean Barrot, he informed me,
fifteen years old little before the
break of the war. His father, alrei
a old lived with his two sons in an
bonse in the corner of the field. j
was the younger of the brothers, Lc
being ten years his senior. Jean be
too young to fight remained at no
IN Louis departed with his regiment.
fought we'll in two or three engf
ments. But he also rendered ot
services. Knowing the country well
asked the periIous privilege OF beal
dispatches across the German lines
separated the army .of Metz from
rest of France. Three times alre
mad he accomplished that danger
,o journey, and old Barrot, whom his
had, without doubt, visited some
night, was unable to hold his toni