Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-06-05
We shall be in tomorrov.- cad one.

another.
 'so much the better; you arc not going to shirk it now, arc you2"
 "It Is not of the work think, l" the man answered sadly, "nor yet of myself-a man can die but once-but there are the wife and the little ones."
 The words cast shadow of gloom ovor many careless face In the laughing group.
 'True-for them it is bad." they mur- mured, and thought sadly of the quiet homes. and the rosy faces. and the pretty childish voices that might ask in vain for sight or sound of a soldier-iather orc an- other sun had set.
 One man stood aloof and apart from all, under the thick shroudng boughs of great pear tree. Now and then he looked at the group as they tossed of their wine, or laughed and joked with gay and airy buff foonery. sa-
 'They can enjoyp he thought and bitter wonder and disdain crept into his heart, for life to him was so unspeakably sad and desolate thing, that 1t seemed marvel that those of lighter brains and hearts could find amusement or forRetfulness in such an hour as this.
 "You are bad company tonight, Pierre," cried one of the soldiers. Will you not join us? you may not have the chance much longer"
 "So much the better for me-" he said sternly, turning neither his gaze nor his step toward ,hem.
 "Have you fallen out with life already, or has your sweet heart tilted your" laughed a young stalwart soldier, with the down of manhood scarce grown on his chin, and laughing boyish face that had left sad blank in the home-circle from whence 1t had been drawn.
 My affairs are no concern ot yours," was | the somewhat fierce retort. "Dieu de dieu, no. You take very good care no one else but yourself shall know aught of them," returned the other. Don't trouble Pierre," chimed in the voice of the man who had giveu him the invitation to join them. "C'est un drole, mais cest un brave."
 ''He had need to be the one to make up for the other," muttsred the young soldier. "A duller fellow I never came across" "He has done good work, though, and his recklessness is something to marvel at. The other night he fought three Prussians. sim gle-handed, and came of with scarce scratch himself"
 "ventre bleu-has no one else ever done the same2"
 Doubtless; but this fellow is an untrained recruit and has the foolhardiness and cool ness of perfect courage, and no more fear of | fire or regard of danger than If he were bull let proof. The Colonel thinks very highly of | him."
 ''That means promotion" "He doesn't want that--only danger" "Yes-Ive heard him ask for the most ticklish of foraging parties; pauvre diable | there's something underneath 1t 1t all. He carries heavy heart under that bold brave face If mistake not"
 He is bon soldat to the backbone. hope the bullets won't whish him of as quickly as he seems to desire. We can ill spare mon ncw."
 'Think youit will come to siegep"
 "Dieu de dieu-yes. These cursed German brutes are hemming us in on every side."
 The talk grew graver. the jests less bolster ous, while the man whom they discussed stood motionless in the..starlight, his musket resting against his shoulder, his eyes fixed on the far-of walls of the fair city so soon to be the prey of the foe.
 The fearless, dauntless soldier had beon through many hot skirmish had served well, and learned quickly, and borne the arduous nnremitting work of trying cam paigns and close discipline, with a cool bravery that had brought him into notice. and won him both respect and liking from comrades and superiors. They did not quite understand. They could not comprehend his moods of silence his strange unsocial gravity-his utter reti- cence respecting his own past life, of which no one knew or could ascertain anything.
 It held some mystery, some sorrow, that they surmised; but of it's nature he never spoke and after time they ceased to in. quire. The noise, the clang, and tumult oi war. the ever present excitement of danger all these were too constantly around and | about them to allow of much leisure for speculation or gossip. They accepted him among the fraternity as one whom they could trust, honor, and respect, oven if nc warmer feeling were permitted, nad for that | he was alone to blame, since he allowed Oi no closer approach to confidence or regard than he himself sought. and that was as little as we'll might be without absolute ofIense. ..
 Times were terrible now in France. The war fever was at its height. Men grew drunk with bloodshed as with wine Fiercest hatred to the oonqueror slowed ir every breast, and each day the hopes of vic tory grow fainter, the dread conquest sharper. And amidst all the turmoil anC anxiety and danger, one man moved as though he bore a charmed life, only saying to himself: "Oh, that death were possible ? But though near often, it yet passed hin ,,ttl, ckro fot oli fho makes life at once striking and so sad { lives beside him, around him-lives. loved Il happy, young. hopeful, and yet leaving hii I unharmed, to bear the burden of hidder woe that haunted every hour of his exist ence.
 life of hard ship, discipline, suffering | xvoa hia daily portion hut for all externa