The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1895-08-27
"Don't he afraid. Here, let S play pick

and trembling for the first time i'll his
life, fired his muskot, to the great de-
light Of Emm@p!e, who clapped her
lands and shouted glecfully. In due
time a company of French troops ar
rived upon the scene, and amid frantic
cheering from the spectators the corporal
aud his companion are borne of IN
safety, but General R"Quehert has been
mortally wounded. He is carried III
upon a litter, and in his last agony
blesses Emmeline, who IS left i'll charge
Of the old corporal after Il thousand in
structiOns and Recommendations neCes-
sarv to the rest Of the piece.
The little innocent, growing and
| smiling in the middle Of this crowd Of
soldierv. amCng all these decorations.
| this noise and smoke of battle, Won a
veritablc triumph. The public applaud
cd with frenzy. aud when some one
spoke Of her as an Infant prodigy the
| phrase was caught up and echoed round
the house.
Always "pick a back on the KNAPP
sack Of the old corporal, she was "call-
ed three times, and on reaching the
wings was Immediately Rugged and
kissed, feted and fondlcd and crammed
with bonhons and dainties by the ladies
| Of the company.
THAT was IA capital idea Of mine,'
Eerniere had said TO himself on signing
the engagement Of his daughter at the
Theatre du Nord, "capital.'
For a hundred nights "The Old Cor
poral' drew crowds to the boulevard,
and those unable to get inside remained
outside to cheer the Infant prodigy
Lucette Verniere.
All was going merrily.
AT the end of three months Lucette
began t O show signs that the strain was
telling on her. Her slim figure and pale
face were growing simmer and paler.
Her eyes We're heavy, her look jaded.
The grandmother observed the symp-
toms with alarm. She called the atten-
ton OF the parents to the child, but
Verniere would listen to nothing and
contented himself with replying:
Don't make yourself uneasy about
nothing. The Old Corporal's' begin
ming to flutter. Wecan't keep him going
w A'lISSI, Ii't ilN'l III wy 1-uNNtNN
will have plenty Of time to rest
She was "~resting" now, little Lu-
cette.
Resting, with u face whittier than the
pillow ON which her head lay, a victim
to brain fever.
From time to time her wasted little
how'd Syrr11 uroCn pnn W., 1Si yn1v &c ~
seized with sudden fear, the long, bOny
hand of her old grandmother.
Poor old woman, how she suffered to
see her darling lying i'll. and in a fury
Of anger she would charge Verniere
with sacrificing the child to his vanity.
"You have driven her beyond her
strength. You've exhausted all her
forces. Maudit!'
The father never replied. He knew
that he had done a bad business INC de-
served all the reproaches his mother
heaped upon him.
When Lucette opened her big eyes and
fixed them on him, they seemed to re-
proach him also. They felt like knives
in his heart.
One afternoon, after the doctors de-
parture, Lucette was taken delirious.
She sat up in bed, staring about her
wildly and crying: THE enemy Look
there! Forward! Vive lempereur!"
And again:
General Roquebert is MORALLY
wounded. A doctor-quick-hurry-
there's no time to ~lose!'
They We're phrases from THE Old
CORPORAL which were passing through
the fevered brain of the poor child. Yer,
Mere and his wife stood at the head OF
the bed, plunged in an abyss Of grief.
AS for the old grandmother, she could
scarcely see for weeping. Her heart was
broken.
For q few moments the child remain
ed quiet, and the watchers thought she
had fallen asleep, but suddenly starting
up "all Of a piece and with an agony
of terror lighting up her face:
THE enemy she cried, throwing n
her arms. THE enemy!'
And she fell back dead.
Three days later the body Of the Gin.
fant prodigy'-Lucctte Nerniere-was
laid in the cemetery at Pantin. On the
coffin Vas placed a magnificent fora
crown, which bore the inscription, "Tc
Lucette Nerniere, artistic, from the The
atre du Nord.'
The old grandmother was too pros
trated to join the funeral procession, but
after the SUI was down, the figure q
the poor old creature might have beer
seen bending over the still open grave
and her voice heard calling softly, Sc
softly that she seemed afraid it Nigh
awaken the little sleeper who lay be
low: "Lucette, my child; my darlin.
, Lucette. 1t is !. Do You hear me? l an
coming to you.'
Next morning the grayediggers fount
| upon the grave Of the Infant prodigy
the inanimate form Of the old grand
mother, smiling III death upon her vel
, beloved g%randchild Lucette. From tn
French.
: The Burgomastcr's Ready Wit.
The London Standard special CORE
spOn6en rave n dcgcriptiou 0f a rictur