New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1886-09-08
THE CHILD SPY.

They called him Stenne-youn9
-Stenne
He was real Paris boy, puny and
pale, perhaps 10 and perhaps Il
years old-for with these imps you car
never tell. His mother was dead and
his father, formerly soldier in the
marines, was the guardian OF square
IN the QUARTER du Temple. Every.
body knew Father Stenne and loved
him-babies, nurses, poor women and
the old ladies with their campstools
lin fact, the whole OF that part Of
Paris which seeks arefuge from pass
ing carriages in these flower plots sur
rounded by sidewalks. Every body
knew what a pleasant, sympathetic
smile the old fellow had behind his
sbristllng moustache, both the terror
Of dogs and loaters, and they also
knew that to call up that smile they
had but to ask:
GLOW is the little boy to-day"
How old Father Stenne loved that
boy! He felt SO happy when the little
fellow came for him in the evening aft
OF school, and they walked down the
alleys hand in hand, stopping before
each bench to greet the regular visit
ors and answer their polite questions.
Unfortunately, the siege changed all
this. Father Stenne's square was
closed, and petroleum was stored
there; SO the poor old man, ever on
the watch, and not allowed to smoke,
spassed his life wandering alone among
the deserted, overturned strawberries.
lie could not see his son now until
late at night, at home, and you should
) have heard him talk about the Prus-
slams and seen his moustache bristle
up fercely! Young Stenne did not
complain much OF his new life.
You see siege is lots of fun for the
boys; school is closed; no more ex-
aminations now; every day is holi-
day, and the streets are like a fair.
The child used to stay out until
nightfall, running about everywhere.
He followed the companies Of his
ward as they tramped off to duty on
The ramparts, and always picked out
those that had the best band. Young
~6tenne was well up on this subject;
and he could tell you why the band
! Of the Ninety-sixth was poor and why
that OF the Fifty-fifth was so good.
Then again he watched mobiles drill.
Besides these amusements there were
: the waiting professions, which formed
before the doors OF the butchers and
bakers, in the dark winter mornings,
when the lights were all out, and he
would stand up in file like the rest,
with his basket under his arm and
his feet in the slush and water; here
he had made acquaintance and talk
I'd politics, and, as he was the son of
Mr.. Stenne, everybody asked his
opinion. But what was most fun
was pitching pennies, and that IA
mous game OF ''galoche," which the
Breton militia had brought into
fashion during the siege. When you
could not find young Stenne either on
the ramparts or at the bakers he was
pretty sure to be at the game of "ga-
loche," on the square du Chateau d.
Eau. He could not play, of course
that cost too much; but he looked on
and opened the biggest, greediest eyes
in the world.
There was one fellow in a blue
smock, whom he admired especially;
he only bet dollar chips, and when he
Fan you could hear the silver jingle in
This pockets.
One day as he was picking up a
ecoin which had rolled away and stop
ped just at Young Stenne's feet, the
big fellow said to him in a low voice:
It makes you. squirt, doesit? We'll, if
you want to know I'll tell you where
you can get some"
When the game was over he led him
TO corner Of the square and propos-
ed to him to 90 with him and sell
newspapers to the Prussians; he got
thirty francs trip. 6tenne refused
ct first and was highly indignant. For
three days he would not 60 back to
the gamewhat awful days those
sthree We're! He:could noteat or sleep.
At might he dreamed of piles Of gallo
Ches at the foot Of his bed, and 81
shining q dollars, slipping along on their
faces. The tenlptationwas too strong,
and on the fourth day he returned to
sbhe chateau d'Eau, saw the big fell
dow, and allowed himself to be talked
.sover.
One snowy morning they started out,
leach with bag slung acrossh his shoul.
der, and with the newspapers hidden
under his blouse. It was hardly light
when they reached the Flanders gate
The big boy took him by the hand
and led him up to the sentinel "a good
humored fat old fellow with a rec
nose and said to him in a whining
voice:
Kind sir, do let Us pass, please sir