Daily public ledger. [volume] (Maysville, Ky.) 1892-191?, 1896-10-31


PICKET were peering ovcr at the dis.
tant cottage, each man with his hand
shading his eyes from the dazzle of the
sun on the snow. What they saw !
need not describe. But there was no
mistake about 1t; the little baron had
fulfilled the task he had taken upon
himself
1t was while we ate a scrappy break
fast as we stood around the piano buffet
next morning that, in as few words as
might be, the lad told us the grim
story. During the second day the
Frenchman had fired several times, but
had never given a glimpse of himself
TO the young marksman down among
DR.. Nelation's laurels and hollics.
His last shot he had fired just be-
| fore dusk; this was the shot that killed
! the man of Zanthier's company. Then,
as ever, he fired without exposing him
| self, but when the bullet had sped he
! forgot himself for the first time in the
two days. Anxious, no doubt, to dis
cover whether he had done execution,
he had for n moment projected his
head and shoulders over the window
sill. peering out to his right front, the
dire vtion in which he had fired. He
was in the act of drawing back when
the little baron took his snap shot at
him. The Fronchman dropped on the
instant, falling, with head and shout
dcrs outside the window, into the atti-
tude in which we had seen the body.
Then the baron had come away through
the gathering dusk, and that was all he
had to say.
The dead marksman had no successor
in the occupation of the cottage.
Strangely enough, the French never
ventured up to it. Early in January
they were driven bodily backward by
the fire of the German "walruses," as
we used 10 call the siege cannon from
Maison Guyot and elsewhere. Then
the region about Nillemomble and the
Chateau de Launay lapsed to the Sax
ons, who buried the dead sEarpshooter
under the window from which he had
sped death so often when alive.
He had regularly installed himself
in the cottage, it seemed. 1t was found
well victualed with bread, bacon. |
timed food, wine and coffee, and the
man had brought with him a small IL
brary of good, solid reading, as well |
as writing materials. On the table in
the back room lay half-finished let
ter, which began: MA tres cherc
femme" and which told in the most |
style the results OF
his ball practice. He sent his love to
his children. and begged them TO pray
for his continued success.
He was not a soldier of the line. lie
wore the coarse uniform or a private
Of the national guard, but his linen was
fine, and marked with a good name.
In the left breast pocket of his tunic
was Sound the photograph of n hand
some woman, with little child at her
knee and a baby in her arms. No doubt
the French "pig-dog," as the SaXons
called him, was a devoted patriot. ao-
cording TO his lights. and regarded him
self as fighting the good fight for his
native land.
Schonberg's fellows gave me the rel
les of the dead man when visited them
again just before the capitulation of
Paris When that eveh5 occurred. and
found myself in the fallen capital. one
IF the first things did after attending
10 my work was TO deliver the relics
1t the address found in the cottage
The shaTpshooter, it turned out. hal
been himself a journalist. As did 81
many other gallant French soldiers of
he pen, he had rushed to arms when
LANCER threatened the sacred soil. He
lad escaped from Sedan to form an
TEN in the vast garrison of Paris, and.
'urning with zeal and devotion to what
le strangely conceived his duty, he
lad thrown himself into the miserable
business of pot shooting.
The poor wife thought his work Clio
'ious and heroic. His children had
ribbage board, with the pegs of which
ney had proudly kept the tally of his {
iomicides. l believe, before the com.
nune time came, that had almost got ]
O look at the matter from their point :
g view. Inever knew sweeter children. ;
-NouSh's Companion.