Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1886-09-06
stlumths' Column,
BOYS WHO BECAME
FAMOUS.

Oh Tue mlilGdIy oCHooi was OH "ii'S
with the shouts and laughter of t1e
boys who had just come scampering
out pell-mell, while the young teach
er whose turn it was to look after
them stood in the quaint old carved
doorway eyelng their antics with a
smile of quiet amusement.
A simple, good-hearted fellow was
young M. Pichegru, and great fa-
vonte with his pupils, who always
cot through their lessons much bet
tel with him than with any of the
other teachers. Little did he dream,
as he watched the boys at their play,
or drew mathematical figures for
them in chalk upon his blackboard,
that he was one day to change his
threadbare brown coat for gener-
ais uniform, to lead thirty thousand
men to the conquest of Holland, and
to end by being put to death by one
of the very lads he was now teach
ing.
But Pichegru's smile vanished, and
a very grave look came in its place,
as his eye turned to kind of arbor
trellis-work covered with twining
creepers, in which, away in the fan
thest corner of the playground, a
boy sat alone.
1t was strange to see him there
by himself, so silent and lonely,
while all the rest were at play; but
it was stranger still to observe what
the occupation was which absorbed
him so completely that he never
heard the teachers approaching foot
steps, and never saw the tall figure
standing beside him.
In one hand the boy held book,
in the other a sharp-pointed stick,
with which he was drawing in the sand
various strange figures that he seemed
to be copying from the pages of
the book before him, which was
called Military Tactics. And as he
drew them, his sallow face flushed,
his deep gray eyes glowe6 with a
strange light, and his thin lips-al-
ready curiously firm and hard for a
boy not twelve years old-set them
selves together like bands of iron.
The young teacher stole softly
away again, with something like a
sigh. ga strange boy!" he NUT
tered. otis always the same thing,
and he seems to find more pleasure
in it than in any kind of amusement.
Can he too, like me, have longing
to become a soldier? 1t would be
strange if"
But whatever his thoughts may
have been, his words went no far
Their.
"See there's 'the Spartan at his
work again. said one of the boys,
pointing to the solitary figure in the
arbor, whose naughty and unsocible
ways had long since earned him the
nickname which some of those who
gave it to him afterward had terrible
reason to remember. ''What say
you, comrades? shall we 60 and stil
him up bit?
"No thank you," cried another
pointing significantly to an ugly
bruise on his own forehead; GIVE
had quite enough of stirring him up
He gave me that the other day JUS
for disordering his papers, and
don't want another like it. Wher
he's angered he's worse than mac
dog"
"Let's touch off our fire. work, >
suggested a third. ''There's plept,
of room here, and M. Pichegru won
mind"
This idea was voted good one
and two of the older boys ran tt
fetch the huge fire. cracker which the.
had been manufacturing for severa
days past.
By some unlucky accident, how
ever, the cracker took fire soone
than they intended, and exploded
right in the middle of them, in sue
cession of bangs and flashes like tn
firing a revolver. Some of the boy
IN their flight, rushed headlong int
the arbor, almost knocking down tn
studious boy inside, who sprang t.
his feet like reused lion, and roare,
in voice worthy of a Russian EN-
peror disturbed by gang of peas
ants, "Wretches how dare your
And down came his stick upon hi
heads and shoulders of the intrudei
in a shower of merciless blows, senC
ing them bowling back into the mid;
of the explosion from which the
were flying, while M, PIchegrl
drawn to the spot by the uproa
looked with a melancholy smile ;
the flashing eyes and infamed fe'
lures of his cleverest pupil.
"This boy will rise high" said |
to himself, ''but he will some da
have a terrible fall"
He spoke truly, for that angry be
Gin one of whose prisons Picheg
himself was to die cruel dea
years later) was no other than n
poleon Bonaparte. -Ha1per's You
People.
NIGHT LIFE OF A COW