The Atlanta constitution. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1885-19??, 1888-02-14
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smoking his pire his mother mending by the
hroiight his bother, grand jean" coming
III from stable and cow-yaTd, and Pierre and
little Louise playing on the wide hearth Yes,
they were all there but himself. and he could
see ms mothers eyes full Of sadness for her
poor little soldier boy.
lie closed his eyes, for tears were streaming
down his cheeks
lie was startled by a strange, mulilcd sound
Just outside the breach in the wall. lie raised
himself on elbow and looked out, but he could
no longer distinguish the figure of the sentry
pacing his round There was not much light
though the clouds were dispensing but, as he
strained his eyes through the gloom he could
make ont several dusky figures stealing
through the breach, and with 4 quick heart.
thlob he understood that the sentry had been
killed, and the Arabs would surprise the
camp.
If he uttered cry it would be too feeble to
be heard by those heavy sleepers. and it would
bring the Arabs upon him in n second.
Again the old panic seized him, and he
ccrouched down in the long grass and weeds.
When the Arabs had passed him it would be
easy enough to make his escape and rejoin tho
main army he thought but then. could he,
a French soldier, fly and leave his comrades to
DO masacreed without an attempt to warn
them?
Numberless dark forms gded swiftly by
nun. In few moments they would be upou
the seeperS
Suddenly his coone's words came back to
him. - coward is a traitor," An never shall
he say that of Jules lie must die! Farewell
mother, father, brothers and sisters, but he
viii noHdie coward
With firm hand hestrew his drum toward
him, and then upon tie silence OF the night
pealed forth the warning roll. lie beat his
drum inadly, fercey, with the strength of ten
men, hut all ut once IL ceased, for an Arabs
lance had pierced the little drummers heart.
But the work was done. The alarm had been
gwen IN time, and the Arabs found no sleeping
foe to massacre. The fight was fierce but a
short one, and rs usual the French were VIC
tori0us.
'Whero is Jules" asked Colonel Haute-
court eagerly. That boy las been our saliva
ton Bring him 10 inc that may thank him.
CIel' how the Ii, ic fellow did beat that druml
1t sounded in my ars like the last trump"
ut was the las trump to him. mon colonel"
said one OF the soldiers, though it did save us.
W g found him dead on one side Of the breach
where the savagcs entered, his hand on his
drum. II was easy to read, that story was. He
saw the Arabs steal in, and the only way to
warn was by the drum. lie beat it though he
knew he was beating his own drge. All he
was rave. our little drummer!"
Colonel llautecOurt turned asid, for daring
soldier as he was, he did not choose his men
should see the tears in his eyes.
In his native village you may still hear the
story how the little drummer saved the camp.
Colonel Hautccourt erected memorial pillar
TO him in the village square, telling, in few
words, how and where 1io died and, while
they lived, the old father and mother would
gaze ut 1t with dim eyes ii seemed to them q
message from tho dead.
II WAS as If he said, Weep not. for il is glo-
rious to die as | did to save others"