St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1885-01-30
A CRUST.

The young duke of Hardimont had gone
to AK in Savoy to let his famous mare Perl
chole take course In the waters. She had
turned roarer since that cold she caught at
the Derby.
The duke was finishing his breakfast one
morning, when he read the news Of the dis
aster at Reichshofen, Two hours later he
took the express for Paris, and hurried to
the recruiting office TO enlist in foot regi-
ment.
So it came about in the early days of No
vember, 1870. Henri de HardiIaont of the
fusileers aud member of the Jockey club,
having returned to Paris with his regiment,
which formed part Of Vinoy's corps, was on
guard with his company before the redoubt
OF Hautes-Bruyers, position which had been
hastily fortified aud protected by the cannon
of the fort of Bicetore. 1t was dreary
| place--a road planted on either side with
rows of stunted, leafless trees and plowed up
with deep ruts stretched across the waste
fields of the suburb On one side Of the
| road was a deserted inn, a roadside inn with
arbors in its gardens, where the soldiers had
taken up their quarters. There had been
fighting there few days before. The shots
from the mitraillruses had shattered some of
the trees along the road, and all bore on
their bark the wnite scars ofthe bullets. The
house itself was simply appalling; the roof
had been smashed with bomb, and the
walls with their dull-red paint looked as if
they had been despatched with blood. Over
head was a sad, gray, wintry sky, with great
leaden clouds-a lowering, gloomy, cruel
and angry day.
The Young man stood at the door of the
inn with rifle slung behind him, his cap over
his eyes, his hands in the pockets of bis red
| trousers, shiveriug with cold under his
sneepskin. He sank intoa sad reverie, this
soldier of defeated army, as, with mourn
full eyes, he watched the line Of mist-cov-
cred hills from which every moment there
rose puff of white smoke, followed by the
roar OF Krupp cannon. All ut once he be-
gan to feel hungry. He knelt down on one
knee and drew a large piece OF bread out of
his knapsack, leaning against the wall near
him then, as he had lost his knife, he be-
gan TO bite the bread with his teeth, eating
slowly. However, he had enough of that
after few mouthfuls. The bread was hard
and had bitter taste. He remembered how
he used to sit by one of the windows down
stairs in the Cafe Anglais and call for the
merest trife-a outlet, eggs, brouilles with
asparagus tops; and how tue butler would
put the wine on the table. Those were good
old times. He should never be able to get
used to this bread OF poverty. And in his
| Impotence the young man threw the rest Of
his bread into the mud.
At that moment soldier came out of the
inn; he picked up the crust; then moving a
few steps off, he wiped it on his sleeve and
began to deyour it eagerly. Henri de Hardi-
mont had already begun to feel ashamed Of
his action, and he looked with pity at the
poor wretch, big, tall, ill-built man, with
feverish eyes and untrimmed beard; so thin
that his shoulder blades stuck out under the
cloth of his worn cloak.
''You must be very hungry, my friend, !"
said he, going up to the soldier.
GAS you see," replied the other with his
mouth 1uil.
IF had known 1t might be Of any use to
you | should not have thrown my bread away.
1t WAS wrong, and l am sorry l did it. can
not let you 90 with such bad opinion of me.
We must have drink together. 1 have some
cid brandy in my flask" The duke and he
drank a mouthful of brandy, and their intro
duction was complete.
''What is your namel" asked the soldier
'Hardimont," replied the duke, suppress
ing his title. 'And yours.'
jean Victor. have only just joined the
com pany. have come from an ambulance
/ was wounded at Cnatilon And now, worse
luck, have only to begin starving again.
For, true as stand here, have been hun
cry all my life.
1t was terrible sentence to be spoken TO
& voluptuary who had just caught himself re-
GREETING the cuisine of the Cafe Anglais; and
the Due de Hardimont looked at his com pan
ion with SORT of Mortified surprise.
The soldier gave u sad smile. Monsieur"
said he, dropping his familiar style OF address,
as though 1t dawned on him that here was
one of the rich aud happy of this earth, ''let
US walk up and down the road here, and
will tell you a few things that don't suppose
you ever heard before. My name Is Jean
Victor, because / ain founding, and my
only pleasant recollection Is Of INV early
childhood at the hospital. The sheets were
clean In our little beds In the dormitory; we
used TO play In the garden under the big trees,
and, | remember INV slster-she was quite
young and pale liy-she was dying Of con-
sumption. ] was her fayorite, aud used to
| like to walk by her side better than 10 play
with the other children, because she would
draw me close 10 her and lay her thin, hot
hand on my forehead. But from the time
was l2 years old knew nothing but poverty.
'The board bound me as an apprentice TO
q chair-meuder In the Faubourg Saint
Jacque. And that was where ! began TO
suffer from hunger. The master and mis-
tress-two old Limousns, who ended by be
ing murdered-were terrible msers. They
kept the bread locked up, and only cut us Il
little bit at each meal. And at supper you
should have seen the mistress ladling out
the soup, and giving a sign at each ladleful.
| The other two appre n tees, the jeunes avoug-
les, were less to be pitied, for they did not
see the angry look Of that woman when she
handed our plate. And, unfortunately,
had a good appetite even then. Could help
thatl was three years apprenticed there,
and always ravenous. You were surprised
10 see ME pick up the bread out Of the mud.
l have picked up crusts enough on the
dust-heap, and when they were too dry
left them to soak all night. Aud then when
the appre ticesbip was finished ] could not
make a living By the trade. / have tried
plenty Of others; | was willing enough to
work. have been a mason's boy, an er-
rand boy, frotteur, and | don't know what
else. Sometimes there was no work TO be
done; sometimes lost my place. But, any
how. | never got enough 10 eat. / have felt
furious sometimes when passed the bakers
shops When was is years old enlisted.
Aud now there is the siege aud famine.
You see, told you the truth when | SAID
had always been hungry"
The young duke was kind-hearted, and
this sad tale Of q man and soldier like
himself, touched him deeply. jean Vic
tor, - said he, IF we both survive this ter
rible war We shall meet again, and | hope TO
be able TO be Of some use TO you. Meantime
as there is no baker at the outposts but the
sergeant. and as my ration OF bread is twice