New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1886-05-05
Friends at Breakfast.
the French OF Alexis Clerc.

Friends at Breakfast.
From the French OF Alexis Cerc
''The more we know men the more
we love BEASTS said Gavarni.
And the old peasant, if he did not
say it, thought so.
He had hunted all morning in the
woods, then about noon he had seated
himself upon stone in the shade of
the tall beeches, had laid his gun down
beside him, superb gun-"a present
from Monsieur" He had killed a
hare, magnificent hare; he had placed
it on the moss beside his gun, to enjoy
his success while he was breakfasting.
Then he took from his game-bag big
piece of bread, some bacon, a full
gourd, and all three had breakfast
himself and his two dogs.
A mouthful for him, mouthful for
Fox, mouthful for Towser. No in
justice! He held the bacon on the
bread with his thumb, and with his
big hunting knifehe cut an equal share
for each in turn.
At the same time they talked
all three; they talked silently,
without saying a word, speaking only
with their eyes. And they understood
each other; for gradually, as their hum
ger was appeased, the looks of all
three became sad. The old mans
brow had grown dark; black thoughts
and memories were fitting before him;
and his friends, his two good dogs,
rubbed affectionately against his
limbs. One sat back on his launches
and his intelligent head rested on his
masters shoulder; the other lay right
in front Of him as though to remind
him that he was there, devoted and
loving.
He was thinking.
''She is 20 now-six years ago-six
years already-she left me. She was
16 when the Countess took her away
from me to make her her waiting
maid. l didn't want to give her, l
didn't. Something told me that
should never see her again. She was
all that was left me to depend on for
happiness and peace in my old days.
And now I have nothing to love
nothing to love-"
And his hands patted the two ami
mails which seemed to be telling him.
Courage, O friend"
He thought on:
Il had had a hard time. Those
called my friends deceived me; one
nights fire destroyed the result of my
twenty years work. My poor wife
had been long gone; she had gone to
meet in the t1owery cemetery all her
sons who were sleeping under the sod
and whom she could not survive.
There were only the two Of us, Emma
and I've were poor, very poor. She
was not brave enough to endure pow
erty with me; she wanted to earn
money, wear fine clothes, live in fine
rooms; she preferred to serve others
rather than to remain with me and
earn her daily black bread by farm la
Dor. Poor girl!
'"Ihere are so many who do like her.
She didn't think that the Paris she
was going to was d gulf, and that that
gulf swallows up girls who are beauti-
ful and who are led away by the love
OF fine things. She didn't know that
a child's heart is a flower which men
have little respect for over there. Her
masters son was first to tarnish her
purity, then she herself left her seducer
and-now what has become of her?
"Does she even think of her poor
father sometimes? Does she think
that when he goes Through the village
he holds down his head so that he
won't see smile or look that would
tell him that people know what his
daughter is doing in Paris? Does she
know that he dares not offer his hand
to amy one lest they should ask him
for news about her? That he never
goes on Sunday to the public house
with his cronies as he used to; that he
does not go to mass to sing as be used
to-before that; that he's even afraid
to go to the cemetery, where he might
hear voice from the grave of the for
gotten mother reproaching him tor
having let her child go?"
Tears flowed fast down the old mans
thin and weather-beaten cheeks, and
his breast heaved with signs.
But suddenly the dogs Jump up, bark
furiously and plunge into a copse.
The old man lifts his head-and, dry.
ing his tears away, bidding grief be-
gone, he grasps his gun.
S'The devil!' he exclaims-tsa buck!
After him, Fox! after him, Towser!''