The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1889-12-21
THE LITTLE SPY,

His name was Stenne-little Stenne.
He was a child Of Paris, pale and
sickly, perhaps 10 years old, perhaps
15-one can never tell about those
midgets. His mother was dead; his
father an old soldier Of the marines.
had the care of an open square in the
neighborhood of the Temple. Babies,
nurses, old ladies with campstools. and
mothers knew and adored Father
Stenne. They all knew that under that
fierce mustache, the terror OF dogs and
loafers, lurked a tender, good-hearted,
almost motherly smile, and that to call
II forth one had only to ask the good
man about his son, he loved his boy SC
dearly!
At the time CT the siege, Father
Stenne's square was closed and guard
ed, and the poor man, compelled to
keep up his constant surveillance,
passed his days alone among the de.
serted shrubbery, and saw his boy only
at home late at night. And you should
have seen his mustache when he spoke
of the Prussians!
A siege! 1t is amusing for tho boys
No more school! Vacation all the
time, and the street like fair ground.
The child was out till night running
the streets. He accompanied the bat
tallons OF the quarter as they went to
the ramparts, choosing by preference
the ones which had good music; and in
that matter little Stenue was thorough
ly at home. He could tell you very
we'll that the band of the Goth was not
worth much. but that in the 55th they
had an excellent one. At other times
he watched the military drill, and then
there were parades. When little
Stenne was neither at the rampant nor
hanging about the bake shops you were
sure to find him at the game OF galoche,
a famous game which the Breton mill
tary had brought into vogue during
the Siege OF the Chateau d'Eau. He
was not playing, Of course; that requir-
ed too much money. He was content
TO watch the players with all his eyes.
One especially, big boy in a blue
jacket, who never staked less than a
hundred sous, excited his admiration.
When that fellow ran you could hear
the crown pieces jingle in his pocket
One day, as he picked up a coin
which had rolled to little Stenne's feet,
the big boy said to him, in low voice:
"That makes you squint, hey? lean
tell you where to find them, il you
like"
The game ended, his friend led him
away into corner, and asked him to
go with him to sell newspapers to the
Prussians at thirty francs trip.
At first Stenne refused with great in
dignation, and he allowed three whole
days to pass without coming again 70
watch the game. Three terrible aayS'
He neither ate nor slept. Asnlgns ne
saw piles of galoches hesped q! 'he
foot OF his bed, and Iotsous pieces
cleaning brightly spinning in the
platter, the temptation was too great.
On the fourth day he returned to the
Chateau d,Esu saw the big boy once
more and was beguiled.
They set out one snowy morning
with linen bags over their shoulders
and newspapers concealed under their
ackets. When they came to the
Gate of Flanders" it was hardly
laylight. The big boy took Stenne by
he hand and going up to the sentinel
"a sedentary brave with red nose
md good natured look-said to him
With the tone OF beggar.
"Let us pass out, my good sir; my \
mother is ill; papa is dead. / must 60
With my little brother to pick up potl-
oes in the field"
He was crying. Little Stenne
with shame, hung his head.
The sentinel looked at them mo-
nent then cast a glance out over the
deserted and whitoned highway.
Pass at once" he told them. and
urned away. There they stood, then
IN the. Aubervilliers road. The big
boy was the one that laughed.
Confusedly, as in a dream, little
,tenne saw mills transformed into bar
'acks, barricades deserted, hung with
vet rags; tall chimneys cleavine the
Ky empty and shattered; occasionally
/ sentinel, some hooded officers look
Dg into the distance with spyglases,
md little tents soaked with melting
now, with dying fires before them.
The big boy knew the way, and went
lcross the fields to avoid the sentries.
Without being able to avoid it, howev-
II they came to an outpost of sharp
hooters. There they were, with their
title cabins. huddlei in the bottom OF
trench, -funot water, dug along the
he railroad from Scissors. This
ime the big boy told his story>in vain;
hey would not let them pass. hut
while he stood waiting from the gate I
Keepers hut came an old sergeant
and wrinkled, who re-
embed Father Stenne.
"Come youngsters, We won't cry"
le said. "You shall go to your pota-
oes. But come in first and warm
That little scamp looks
rozen."
Alas! 10 was not with cold that little
'tenne was trembling; il was with fear
md shame. In the guard house they
ound a few soldiers crouching about o
eeble fire-a real widows fire-iu the
lame Of which they were thawirg |
BISCUIT on the ends of their bayonets.
they crowded together to make room
or the children. They gave them a
ram and little coffee. While they
rere drinking an officer came to the
DOR, called to the sergeant spoke to
Tim in a low tone and went away quick
y.
s'Boysr' said the sergeant returning
nth a radiant face, 1--WE will have our
obacco tonight! We have surprised