The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-02-11
THE LITTLE DRUDQuER.
BY MARIE E. WILLIAMS.

It was a scorching hot July day in Algiers. Under that fiery sky, where white dazzles, yellow gleams like molten gold, and the reds blind by ex- cess of light, a spot of shade is like cool oasis in this oven of heat and color.
 Colonel Prosper Hautecourt thought this, as he passed groups of yawnipg French soldiers on his way to a clump of trees growing on slight elevation, where there was at least promise of some breeze. When he reached the spot, he saw lad lying asleep under the trees, with his right arm thrown around a drum which lay beside him. "Ha, Jules, what dost thou here?" cried the colonel.
 The boy sprang up instantly. A delicate stripling he was, with pale face, but bright, intelligent eyes,
 'l believe I was half asleep, mon colonel" he said, with laugh. "We had q sharp time last night, with the Arabs, you know, and the men some- how scattered beat my drum till my arms were numb. 1 lay down i'll camp, but, out! it was a hot oven."
 Colonel IIautecourt smiled kindly at the lad, but the next moment his face clouded.
 "I have wished to speak to thee, Jules, for some time," he said.
 "Sit down there and answer me. Dost thou know have heard strange sto- ries i'll camp about thee. The men say that in action there is one of them who is SO frightened that he almost loses his senses that he crouches behind his brave comrades, and when he beats the drum, the strokes are so tremu- lous that it sounds more like shame ful retreat than gallant charge. Dost thou know who the coward is, Jules?"
 As the colonel spoke, the boys head had sunk lower and lower, till his face was hidden. As he raised it to answer the officer, it was white as death, and his lips quivered.
 "I suppose they mean me, mon colo nel," he answered.
 "Yes, they mean thee, my poor boy 1! Look here, Jules. l have known thee from an infant in La Vendee. Thy good, honest father would die with shame if thou shouldst disgrace him, and coward is disgrace, not only to his family, but to his country. A Vendean and coward! Bah! they do not go together. warn thee that all my influence cannot go far where any intraction of military discipline is concerned. have done my best, but thou art getting to be byword among the men,"
 Look here, mon colonelw the boy said, u faint flush creeping into his pale cheek. "I am not always afraid. Simetimes feel as bold as lion; but then another time don't know what comes to me. My hands and feet get as cold as ice. tremble, my eyes are dim, and when 1 see my comrades falling right and left, something tells me to run away but have never run, no, never ]" he added with spirit.
 "Not yet" Colonel Hsutecourt said sadly, "but some day that cowardice, which thou callest something, will lead thee to kneel on thy coffin, and have file of thy Zouave comrades shoot thee through the heart. A cow ard is a traitor"
 The boy shuddered, but did not speak.
 "Why didst thou beg so hard to be allowed to become drummer boy ir the army, fthy courage is so uncer- tain?" asked the colonel mournfully
 "My father is poor, as you know mon coionel-bad harvests and sickness in the family. And I wanted tc come; it was 30 grand to fight fol France, and could beat the drum we'll even then. Oh, love my drum r caressing it. "It talks to me like ( living voice."
 "Let it tell you, then, Be brave my boy. Don't disgrace yourself and La Vondee any more," the colone said.
 The boy started to his feet, and hi eyes frightened.
 Do not fear, mon coloneU I tel you am no coward, though seem st sometimes. It is bodily weaknes only, and I will die before it shal conquer me again."
 But the colonel, as he walket thonghtfully toward his tent, did no share in the boy's confidence. Tn