Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1884-01-18
THE BIT OF BREAD.
a Realistic Sketch by Francoi, Cor,

From Swntons Story Tellerl
The young Duke of Hardimont found
himself at AK, in Savoy, whittier. for the
benefit of the waters he had sent his fa.
nous mare Perichole, because she had
been coughing since chill she caught nj
the Derby. The Duke was finishing his
breakfast, when glancing carelessly at the
newspaper he read in it the news of the
disaster of Reichshoffen.
He finished his glass of Chartreuse.
put up his napkin on the table of the res
taurant, ordt led his valet to pack up his
things. and two hours afterward took the
express for Paris, and fastened to the re-
crultie9-oilcc to enlist III regiment of
the line.
One may have led from nineteen to
twenty-five the enervating life of swell.
one may have become demoralized in
racing stables and the boudoirs of &C.
tresses, still there are circumstances
where 1t is impossible to forget that
EngueTand de Hardimont died of the
plauge at Iunis on the same day us ST.
Louis that jean de Hardimont com.
mGnded the ',Grandes Compagnies I'M
der On Guesclin, and that,Francois Henri
de Hardlmont died charging at Fontenoi
with the Royal Household. In spite of
his lie OF dissipation, the young duke,
When he learned that battle had been
lost by the French on French soil, felt
the blood mount to his cheeks and felt
the horrible sensation of having received
blow.
This explains how, in the beginning of
November, 1870, on returning to Paris
with his regiment, which formed part of
Nmoy corps, Henri lie Hardimont pri-
yate IN the tIlrd company of the second
battalion and member of the Jockey Club.
was IN the grand guard with his company
IN front OF the redoubt of Hautes Bruy-
eres, hastily fortified post, which was
projected ny the cannon of the fort of
Bleetre.
1t was wretched-looking spot road
boarded with htunted trees that looked
like broom handles, and all cut up with
muddy ruts, crossed the NANCY fields of
the suburb, and by the side of the road
was an abandoned wine-shop, where the
soldiers had established their post. Here
there had been combat a few days be-
lore the musketry fire had cut in two
some OF the roadside poplars, and all of
them bore the white scars of rifie-balls.
AS to the house, it would make you SILVER
to look at 1t. The roof had been crushed
by shell, and the walls of a wine-lees
color, seemed to be plastered with blood.
Inc empty casks under their net-w work of
plack tWlgs, the upset shuttle board, the
SWING, through whose mouldy cords the
WIND Whlstled, the bullet-scarred sign.
poard-all recalled, with cruel irony, the
popular amusements of by-gone Sundays.
ana over all this stretched villainous
winter sky, In which rolled heavy, leaden.
sky.
AT the door of the wine-shop the young
ouke STOOD motlonless, with his chassepot
slung over his shoulders, his cap over his
eyes, and his numb hands in the pockets
Oh his red pantaloons, shivering under
MS sheepskln. He had abandoned him
sell TO gloomy thoughts-this soldier of
de1eat-and looked with dull eye on the
line OF nils lost IN the mist, from which,
at every minute, there shot out, with a
loud report, the white puff of smoke from
krupp gun.
All at once it struck him that he was
hungry.
He knelt on one knee and took from his
huyersack, tlat lay near him against the
wall, a big piece of commissariat bread .
then, as he had lost his knife he bit i
and ate it slowly.
After few mouthfuls, however, he had
enough of it ; the bread was hard and
had a bitter taste. Nor would there be
any fresh bread till it was served ont newt
uay, ana mat only IN case the cOmmissary
should be IN good humor Well. II was
sometimes pretty rough was this life of q
soldier, and then-lo and behold he
began 10 think of what he used to call
his hyglenic breakfasts. when on tbe
morrow after too, heating supper he sat
at the window on the ground f16or NJ the
D. Cafe Anglais and ordered-tbe merest
trlhes--a outlet and scrambled eggs a,tr
ponies d'aSpcrgeS, while tbe waiter
knowing his habits, placed on the m bIa'
cloth, and uncorked with care n fine hottie
OF Gid Leovilie, lying softly in its wicker
good old times, and he would never GET
used to this bread of affliction.
In moment of impatience the vonro
man hung the rest of his bread into the
mud
, Az th!s very instant soldier came ont
OF the wine-shop he stopped, picked nm
the piece OF bread, walked few steps of
wiped II on his sleeve, and began to de,
vourit greedily. " W.
Henri de Hardimont was already
ashamed OF his action, and looked with
pity on the poor devil who showed sucb n
good appetite. He was great, tall IN.
gainiy lad, with feverish eyes and hos.
Pitai beard, and so thin that his shonlder.
blades stuck out under the folds of his
well.worn cloak. LID
You are pretty hungry, comrade. 4"
s s de Hardimont, approaching the sol.
You may see that, replied the other
Il begrEyour pardon, then if I had