The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1888-04-04

tOHleu 10 It's weight.
If he had rescued Jean Baptiste from
a terrible fate, the Acadian could not
have been more vehement In his expires
sions Of gratitude. In d queer patois of
French ahd English, mixed with hyster-
lea sobs, he poured forth his thanks.
The stranger sauntered leisurely after
him, and watched with keen eyes the
workmanship of the Acadians.
Jean Daptiste isn't half bad shot, y
he said TO himself, "but the boys too
nervous. Dare say he'd have done bet
ter II he hadn't been tearing his nerves
to fiddle strings this evening. Funny
people, these Acadians Too excitable
and noisy ever. to make good marksmen. y
That night, In the loft which Jean Bap-
tiste shared with him, the boy confided
to him his reasons for wishing to win
the great prize. lie sat on his mattress.
his great brown eyes luminous with ex-
citement, and his expressive gestures
piercing out his imperfect speech.
''You see, monsieur, / vas born here,
and nevaire haf been feefty mile from
re prairie. You see tall tree far off in
70 nadrais' / haf neyaire been more far.
| climb 1t; look far out | say, Jean
Baptiste Avran, if you had pony
for your own, you could run away. You
could gallop, gallop into re big world,
and, who knows, make a heap of money.
All, grand Dieu, i is so tired " throw
ing out his arms with tragic gesture.
is not COW; l is not horse, to be
glad and satisfy because re grass is fine.
want to go far off to see people, to learn
to read. Monsieur, when strangers come
here, not good, not kind like you, zey
laugh at us. Zey say: You cannot read
or write; you know nothin'; you are no
more zan your beasts Non, non, strik-
ing his breast, 81 will go away l will
not stay herel"
You would leave your father, your
friendsl" the officer said gently. "My
poor boy, the world isn't quite heaven
1t may be bad, yes. 1t may hurt me.
but it will not be re prairie. All, Ichoke
hereln
g In plain words, you want change
and the officer laughed. "You want the
pony to gallop off into pitfalls, and
stumble against walls, and to get SO
many knocks and tumbles that all the
Kings horses and all the Kings men
couldn't piece you into the old Jean
Baptiste again. You don't understand q
word say was just talking to my
self you see, and you needn't understand.
Go to sleep, and sleep soundly If you
want to shootwe Nothing like good
nights rest to steady the nerves.
About ten o'clock next morning sew
eral hundred people assembled at the APP
pointed place. In the open prairie, the
Patgo fastened to tall pole huttered its
gay streamers in the breeze, and the at
tention of the Acadians seemed divided
between the bird and the stately Young
officer who lowered above them all, his
keen eyes taking in every detail of the.
scene.
He looks like st. Michael, 4" whispered
one. "The picture in the church."
"BahT answered the other. st.
Michael is angry, he is trampling the
dragon. That man looks as cold as ice,
his face never changes, though he is
Yes he is beautiful
The shooting began, but somehow it
was unusually bad. After twenty shots
the Patgo's ribbon plumage still waved
defiance. Neither wings nor head had
been brought down.
"Will not monsieur take some chancei"
said one Of the judges, in very good Eng
lish, approaching the stranger.
"Yes, l will take four, but after Jean
Baptiste AvTaE.. Il IS his -tu.H, turHG .n,CC%.';
Jean Baptiste's first shot was tolerable,
as it struck the wing of the bird, but
without bringing it down. In the next,
his nervous excitement had got the bet
ter of him, and his shot flew over the |
head of the bird. He had exsen but |
three chances, and his last shot was so
wide of the mark, that a
pocking laugh from the competitors
;aluted it.
"Aha, Jeah Baptistei" cried one,
''thou didst not say thy prayers last
night Get out of the way, mon gars',
md let the strange monsieur try his
uck."
The officer took his rifle from Jean
Baptiste, and smiled at his downcast
ACE. He examined the weapon, loaded
t in his cool, deliberate manner, AMI
aking his position, carelessly raised it,
md, without apparently looking at the
Patgo, called out:
This for the right wing of your
oirdln
The shot rang out, and the wing lay
)n the ground.
This for the head |"
Tne ribbons which had adorned that
portion of the Patgo gave last flutter
IS it swooped down.
And tins for the ponyp
Ahe bird fell, a perfect storm of
age arose in the crowd.
"Unfairl !" "Cheateryl" ''The Patgo
hould not have fallen for an hour Yeti"
'He is sorcerer" "He is q devil!n
'Robberlp "Vile Americanl"
The officer did not understand them.
'ut he saw threatening faces and gestic-
Hating arms, as the crowd pressed
loosely TO him. He coolly loaded his
ifle, and, standing with his back to a
arge tree, waited for an attack, his i'm
,assive face as calm as if he had been
mong friends. Jean Baptiste, his boy
sh face glowing with indignation, and
lis eyes ashing defiance, sprang to his
ide.
"Zey is mad T" he cried. "Zey wants
o fight you'll Cowardsl Aha, / has
run p holding it up. 81 will help you. "
1.-TWO against two hundred" said the
'fficer coolly, with a smile. '1t's long
dds, my boy, ''but I'll try to hold my
,ost. You must keep out of the mess.
Cor the life of me don't know what
he beggsrs are bowling about, but all
he same if they attack me, Pm ready"
But khere were some cool heads in that
They dashed about among the