The Sedalia weekly bazoo. [volume] (Sedalia, Mo.) 187?-1904, 1885-05-05

advancing. Not that of Berlin, alas!
1t was the time of the great cold, OF
the bombardment, of the epidemic, OF
the famine But, thanks to our care
and effort-to the indefatigable tender
ness that surrounded him-the serenity
of the old man was not for an instant
disturbed. Up TO the last L was able
to get white bread for him and fresh
meat. 1t was only for him, indeed:
and you can not imagine anything
more touching than those innOcently
selfish breakfasts of the grandfather
the old man on his bed fresh and smil-
Ing, the napkin tucked under his chin;
near him his granddaughter, little
pallid from privations, guiding his
hands, giving him drink. helping him
to eat all these forbidden good things.
Then, animated by the meal, in the
comfort of his warm room, the winter
wind without, the snow tossing about
his windows, the old cuiraSsier recalled
his campaigns in the North, and re-
counted TO us for the hundredth time
that terrible retreat from Russia, when
there was nothing but frozen biscuit
and horsefesh to eat.
"Do YOU understand that, Little
One?-we ate horseflesh.'
ibid she understand that For two
months she had eaten nothing else.
Prom day to day, however, in pro-
portion as convaleScence approached,
our task with the sick man grew more
difficult. That dulling of all his senses
which had served so well until then,
commenced to disappear. Two or
three times already the terrible Droao-
sides of the Port Maillot had made him
start with ears erect like a hunting
dog. We had to invent lasting vic
tory of Bazaine under the walls of Ber-
lin. and salutes fired in honor of it on
the Hospital of the Invalides. Another
day when his bed had been pushed near
the window-it was, think, the Thurs
day of Buzenval-he saw plainly the
National Guards who formed in the
Avenue of the Grande Armee.
"'What troops are those? demanded
the old man, and we heard him grum-
bling between his teeth
bad drill! bad drillr
HE said nothing more about it, but
we saw that thenceforth we would have
TO take great precautions. UnfOrtu-
nately, there were not enough taken.
lone evening as l came in the girl
came to me very much troubled:
Tomorrow they enter, she said to
me-
WAS the door of the grandfather's
room open? The fact is that on think
ing of it since / recall that he had that
evening an extraordinary expression.
1t is probable that he had heard us.
Only we spoke of the Prussians, and
he, good man, was thinking of the
French, for whose triumphal entry he
had waited so long. MacMahon coming
down the avenue amid flowers, the
| flourish of trumpets. his son by the side
of the Marshal, and he, the old man,
on his balcony in full dress uniform as
at Lutzen, saluting the torn flags and
the eagles black with powder.
Poor Father Jouvel He doubtless
| imagined that we wished to prevent
his witnessing the parade of our troops
in order to guard him from too great
emotion, so he carefully refrained from
speaking of it TO any one; but on the
morrow, at the very hour that the
Prussian bsttalions advanced eau
tiously on the long road which led
from the Port of Maillot to the Tuil-
cries; an upper window was gently
raised, and the Colonel appeared on
the balcony with his helmet, his great
sabre, his glorious old uniform of the
ancient cuirassier of Milhaud complete.
1 still wonder what effort of viii, what
rebound of life thus put him on his
feet and into uniform. What is GER
tain is that he was there, erect behind
the railing, astonished at finding the
avenues so wide-so still-the blinds OF
the houses closed, Paris desolate as q
pest house, flags everywhere; but, so
singular, all white with red crosses,
and no one to meet our soldiers.
"For Q moment he could believe
himself mistaken. But no! down
there behind the Arc de Triomphe
there was q confused noise, black
line which advanced in the rising light.
Then little by little the spikes of the
helmets flashed, the little drums of Jena
began to beat, and under the Arc de
a'Etoile. It's rhythm marked by the
heavy tramp Of the sections and the
clash of sabres. burst forth the
triumphal march of Schubert.
'Then, in the gloomy silence of the
place there was heard a cry-a terrible
cry-'To armsi To armsi The Prus-
siansr And the four Uhlans of the
advance guard could see up there on
the balcony a tall old man stagger
and, waving his arms. fall rigid.
This time Colonel Jouve was indeed
dead. Prom the French Of Alphonss
Ddudet.