The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1886-09-17
THE CHILD SPY.

They called him stenne-youns
Stenne.
lie was real Paris boy, puny and
pale, perhaps 10 and perhaps Is
years old-for with these imps you can
never tell. His mother was dead and
his father, formerly a 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
Parls which seeks arefuge from pass
ing carriages i'll these flower plots sur
rounded by sidewalks. Every body
knew what pleasant, sympathetic
smile the old fellow had behind his
bristling moustache, both the terror
Of dogs and loaters, and they also
knew that to call up that smile they
had butto ask:
"How is the little boy to-day?"
Howold Father Stenne loved that
boy. He felt SO happy when the little
fellow came for him in the evening aft
er 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 wat, ., and not allowed to smoke,
passed his life wandering alone among
the deserted, overturned strawberries.
He 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 tiercely! Young Stenne did not
complain much OF his new life.
You see a 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
Stenne was we'll up on this subject,
and he could tell you why the band
OF the Ninety-sixth was poor and why
that OF the Fifty-tifth 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 acquaintances and talk
ed 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
nous 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 baker 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
ran you could hear the silver jingle in
his pockets.
One day as he was picking up
coin which had rolled away and stop
ped Just at Young Stenpe's feet, the
big fellow said to him in low voice:
att makes you squint, ,doesi it? Well,if
you want to know I'll tell you where
you can getsome."
When the game was over he led him
to corner OF the square and propos-
ed to him to 20 with him and sell
newspapers to the Prussians; he got
thirty francs trip. Stenne refused
at first and was highly indignant. For
three days he would not 20 back to
the game-what awful days those
three were! He could not eat orsleep.
At night he dreamed Of piles OF gallo
ches at the foot Of his bed, and OF
shining dollars, slipping along on their
faces. The temptation was too strong
and on the fourth day he returned to
the chateau d'Eau, saw the big fe!-
low, and allowed himself to be talked
over.
onesnowy morning they started out,
each witha bag slung across his shoul-
der, and with the newspapers hidden
under his blouse. 1t was hardly light
when they reached the Flanders gate.
The big hoy took him by the hand
and led hup to the sentinel-agood-
humori Fat old fellow with red
nose-s said to him in whining
"Kind sir, do let us pass, please sir;
mothers i'll and fathers dead, and
my young brother and want to get
out into the field and try to find some
potatoes. "
He was actually crying. estenne,
ashamed OF himself hung hs head.
The sentinel looked at them mo-
ment, then down the solitary, white
road.
"Pass, then, quickly" he said,
standing aside, and they found them
selves on the road to Aubervilliers.
How the big fellow laughed!
Indistinctly, as in a dream, young
Stenne noticed the factories that now
were used as barracks and garnished
with wet rags, and the high chimneys