Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1890-07-05

home. Sne had suffered all anxIeties abort
the outside world TO be lulled TO rest by
Madame Schubert's cheerful assurances.
And then, since the birth OF the Commune,
Paris had grown accustome ed to the sound
Of bombardment, TO the smoke OF cannon.
Polichinelle had made his jokes, the merry.
go-rounds had revolved the barrel-organs
MES and drums had sounded cheerily Ia the
Champs Elysees, albeit Versailles was bonn
harding Paris. The roar OF guns, the noise
and havoc OF war, had become the everyday
sounds OF the city. Rose, lying In her cur
tanned bed, windows closed and mufled,
hardly knew that the guns to-day sounded
louder and nearer.
Phillip will go no more 10 the barricades,"
she told Kathleen. 'He was wounded in
the shoulder yesterdays very slight wound,
praise TO Heavenl but enough to prevent
his fighting any more"
Kathleen heard with q shudder, remem-
bering that file of prisoners, with fettered
limbs and downcast eyes, pale, despairing,
submissive. She had heard people say that
all who had carried arms against the Re-
public would be served thus. Passes pas
les drmesr' The phrase was familiar
enough now. A short shift, and your back
/ "6ohiob " WoAii tittbth, gOut NdiobSout Optnf
so! and eight muzzles pointed at your heart.
where is Gaston?" said Rose presently.
"Maman Schubert said he was at the Office
all yesterday. His newspaper is TO be re-
vived nov that Paris Is more tranquil, she
told me. Are you glad of that, Kathleen i
hope he will not preach revolution any
more. We have had enough of tile Com
mune."
"Yes, enough-more than enough" said
Kathleen, her pale lips quivering as she
turned away her head.
All that day the sisters spent together,
Kathleen deyoting herself TO Rose and the
baby, smiling upon both, speaking hopeful
words; but after dark, when Rose had fallen
asleep, Kathleen stole away from the sick
room Just as Madame Schubert re-entered,
after having attended 10 her own home af-
fairs. Before Madame Schubert had time
to ask her a question, Kathleen was gone.
She ran up 10 her own room, put on her nea,
little bonnet and shawl, her thick black
veil, and then back to those terrible streets,
TO the sitting smoke, the glare of the con-
fagration, the tramp Of soldiery, the cry OF
Stand, or / firerr
The struggle was over in the center Of
Paris. The insurgents had retired to Pere
Lachaise, Menilmontant, Belleville, the
Buttes Chaumont. The huge s~tOrehouses
Of Villette filed half the sky with lurid
fame, across which flashed the swift white
light Of the cannon. The Hotel de Vile
stood sharply out against the sky of fame
and moonlight ruin, grand as any wreck
OF Roman greatness; airy columns, fairy
arches, doorways without rooms, spectral
corridors, cornices OF delicate tracery; and,
above all, unframed, in big golden capitals,
the legend, Liberty! Equality Fraterni.
typ
And 81 II roars the demoniac thunder OF
the cannon. Montmar;re, from its superior
height, rains death and destruction upon
Belleville and La Roquette. BelIeville and
La Roquette reply with mitrailleuse and
shell.
Amy news-any news of Colonel Seri-
zierP' Kathleen asks Of a group Of women
at a street corner.
But they do not even know who Serizier
Is. They are full of their wi troubles, Their
own fears. One OF these weeps for a hus.
band whom she has not seen for four days
called out against his will-he, the peace.
able father of a family-to go and work and
fight and die at the barbados.
"Ah, ma bonner she say 10 Kathleea
with streaming eyes, ".le Commune was
very cruel; and now they say Monsieur
Theirs will be cruel too. Those foolish PEG
pie have pulled down his house, and thai
will not help to arrange matters.
Serizier? No; no one in the streets knew
anything about Serizier.
What was this dark rumor which the lOi
terers in the streets repeated TO each Other
with awe-stricken faces? The hostages hac
been murdered at La Roquett, three day.
ago, slaughtered within the walls of the
prison. The Archbishop Of Paris, the Cur,
of the Madeline, Monsieur Bonfean tn,
President-eighteen victims in all.
Yes, IL was true. True also that at fv,
o'clock his afternoon, In the bright Ma,
sunshine, another band OF photographers
soldiers, ciyilians-to the number of fifty
two, had been done TO death by a savag,
mob In the Rue Haxo, on the heights O.
Bellevilie; but this new horror had not yer
become town talk.
1t was one o'clock In the morning wher
Kathleen went home, worn out by wander
ing up and down the sheets, standing a
corners or on the bridges listening to the
passers-by, TO the people who stood ut then
doors; but nowhere could she hear anything
which threw new light upon the tragedy IL
the Avenue d'Italle, or the wretch who hae
planned that bloody deed.
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