Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-12-07
THE VETERANS PENSION.
From the French of Georges de Lys; trans
lated for the SUNDAY UNION By Mrs n. K
White =

lrawn little too tight for him. From the
lour that he committed tb crash impru-
ience of placing in her hf lids the control
If his income, he found oer growing more
md more parsimonious.
Formerly, when = was on his way
lone from drawir g the half-yearly PEN
ion, which he re eeived as retired officer
md wearer OF he Cross of the Legion of
Honor, she sed to allow him to retain
e" crowns, nth which the worthy fellow
-egaieo MS old comrades at the military
;iuo, IN 10 .mory OF times gone by, but now
she carer ally counted every sou, and would
not IT, TOTE rate the slightest expenditure.
Inc reason for this excessive parsimoni-
ousn' SIS was that Madame Bonasson was
dev oted mother, and her Auguste was
gr owing rapidly to manhood. She stinted
e Verything in the household in order to
increase the fund laid by for her son.
Therefore, conscious OF the Just motive of
her avarice, she treated Bonasson as a sell
fish and unnatural parent when he asked
her for small addition to the daily al
lowance of four sous which she gave him
for his tobacco; and, indeed, he was even
obliged to ask for these in order TO guard
against forgetfulness = somewhat inten-
tional-on the part of the economical
treasurer.
On the morning in question, however,
Bonasson was blithe as a bird, for his son
had obtained prize tthe general exam
ination, and to the justifable happiness of
the father was joined the unusual pleasure
of the worthy retired officer at possessing
bright new crown in his own pocket.
He had taken advantage Of the maternal
pride of Madame Bonasson TO wheedle her
ont of the ive-franc piece.
$50 that | may offer glass of vermouth
to our old friends when l announce to
them our Auguste's success" he had
pleaded insinuatingly.
How could any one resist such an argu-
ment So Madame Bonasson, yet vibrat-
ing with motherly pride and affection,
yielded to the artful appeal.
The Captain took his way with sprightly
step toward the quarters of his club be-
fore which for many day he had not
dared to pass, inasmuch as he was constantly
invited to participate in the libations Of
his comrades-in-arms, and was always
obliged to refuse, being too proud to ac.
cept what he could not repay. The oppor-
tunity had come at length of reviewing his
old memories, of talking over his campaigns,
of living over again the burning davs of
Algeria, the icy nights in the renches be-
fore Sebastopol-Sebatopol, where he had
won his epaulettes
He turned the corner of the public
square and already perceived, inviting as
glimpse of the promised land, the dusty
va hair ,1oltpnr, hl,-lo,.,,r. IL
terrace Of the club house, when he found
individual, whose wasted visage awakened
in him dim recollection.
The man made the military salute, and
barring The passage, said awkwardly:
Good morning, mon Capitdine."
"Who are you, my man? | know you
L have seen you somewhere"
Eyes, mon Cdpttdine, at Marseilles. l
was IN your company up to the day mis-
fortune came upon me-"
"Ah! ahr' said Bonasson, in a banter
ing tone. "Ah, now l remember you,
rogue! You are Jean Bracieux, gunner
in the Third Company of the Second Regi-
ment, whom | compelled to take himself
off to the Correctional Company on ac-
count of misconduct. No prison nor cell
could hold you; you always managed to
spend the night outside the barracks ;"
Glow could help it, mon Cdpitaine ?7
Eyes, yes, | know; the women-they
had great power over you, my gay lad p
"Not women, men Cdpitdiae, but one
woman, who loved me as loved her. She
waited for me while | was serving nv
time, and as soon as l gained my liberty
we were married"
"Well, then, so much the better You
are the father of family now, and happy,
are you not ?"
"Alas no, mon Capitaiae;. my wife,
good and industrious woman, has become
infirm; my son, an excellent workman, is
at the hospital and as for me, | am not
good for much. | was earning barely |
thirty or forty SOUS day as porter in a
lawyers office, but he has decamped. There |
is not a sou in the house, and had prom |
ised my boy to bring him some oranges to-
day at the hospital-he wanted them so |
much, the poor by But I will not go;
l could not bear to stand before him with |
empty hands"
Bonasson was nervously twisting his |
beard, sign that he was deeply affected. |
His gaze wandered towards the yew trees |
before the cafe, then back to the old SOL
der standing dejectedly before him, and |
again returned to the waiter, who was
placing the little round tables on the ter
race. while the hand not engaged in Twill
ing his beard was fumbling in his vest
pocket, and lingering the contents alb
At length, as if concluding an argument,
he said decisively:
II am happy through my son to-day, and
do not want you to be sad on account OF
yours. Here, take this for his oranges"
Then, abruptly turning on his heel, he
began to retrace his steps toward the
house.
Jean Bracieux had felt the Captains
hand slip into his pocket. He searched
and found therein bright new coin 1t
was the crown Bonasson had so long
coveted and so painfully acquired.
fastening after the retreating officer, he
shouted:
"Mon Cdpitaine! mon Capitdine e'
But Bonasson went obstinately on, and
when at length Bracieux caught up with
him, he would not listen to one word of
thanks.
'Be off to thehospital, and let me alone
Y our son is waiting for your
"Aoa Oapitaine,"I ask but one thing;
come with me-
"What for, pray"
"Well, you know, one cannot conceal
his past. My boy is aware that served
erm in the military prison, and although
ne does not respect me any the less, |
know it pains him to believe that / was
BAD soldier VIII you not tell him that
was really not bad man when l belonged
% your company ?"
"Be it So" said the officer, with emo
ion.
So they bought the oranges, and arm-in-
arm the two old soldiers went into the
hospital. The sick boy, seeing his father
accompanied by a stranger, looked at him
but the Captain quickly ex-
planned his presence by saying:
"My friend, l had the good fortune to
meet your father just now in the street.
He was one of the brave fellows of my
company, somewhat hot-headed in his
youth, but he paid dearly enough for his
tollies. So. as had the pleasure of grasp
ing the hand of the worthy fellow, l
wished likewise to clasp that of his son."
Non Capitaine p' murmured Bracieux,
his eyes suftused with tears of gratitude
The sick boys eyes flashed with glad sur