Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1896-12-16
CHRISTMAS UNDER FIRE.

UlllllUElIlfIU UlIULA llllL.
"KarI," said the officer, bring another
bottle;" and as he said it he rolled an
empty one beneath the table 1t was at
Montmorency, the beautiful suburban
town which, from its crest of stately
hills, looks proudly down on the valleys
sweeping away toward Paris, where she
then lay enshrouded in winter fog and
besieged by her adversaries.
We were sitting in the drawing room
of a pretty villa from which a famous
painter had but lately fed, after having
written in chalk upon his door: Death
to the Prussiansr'
His menace did not signify much. The
Prussians had no intention of dying so
long as they could get at the good red
wine with which the cellars of Mont
morency's villas abounded; and as for
the shells which fell night and day at
intervals all around them. they feared
them less than child would fear 4
couple Of bumblebees careering about his
head.
Il should feel lonesome if I did not
hear the Shells said cur host, a stalwart
officer III that collection of giants, the
Fourth Prussian corps. "When you see
diversion
What a man he was! I can see him
now, rising in the Pickering light thrown
by the wax tapers, and Strengthening
out his immense frame until it seemed
fairly probable that his head would go
through the ceiling. Six feet four in
height, his massive limbs and broad
chest well set off by his closely fitting
blue uniform, and his huge sword cIang-
ing on the floor as he moved forward,
he was martial from head to heels
And, like every son of Mars, he was
fond of the bottle. He emptied thirteen
TASKS of wine while we sat with him that
evening, and had just sent for the four
teenth, because thirteen was an unlucky
number and because he wished to drink
parting cup with us.
SO Karl, who was a corporal. and
whose duties that evening had been those
of cup-bearer ard purveyor of music
continuation he played the piano divine
ly-hlled the glasses with the cold but
rudy vintage which had come from
bordeaux vineyards, and together we
drank to the success of our journey along
the hreline' and back to the royal head
quarters at Versailles.
We We're to spend Christmas in one of
the underground burrows in the park of
st. Cloud. For. among the besiegers
who for many weeks had now lived in
earth and fascines and great trunks of
trees. were three Germans, with whom
we claimed cordial friendship.
The first was a doctor, who could read
Sanscrit, discuss American politics or
perform an amputation under fire with
equal ease and efficiency.
The second was an officer. baron of
fortune and very good family, whose
name is well enough known on both sides
of the Atlantic.
The third was common soldier whom
we called Fritz" We lad never known
his other name, and had learned to prize
this chance acquaintance for his fearless
ness, his sound, common sense, his gen
tie heart and, most of all, for his sto-
icism.
Perhaps you think stoicism was not
necessary during the seige of Paris
Never were stress and strain of war
borne more herOically, with more light
ness of heart than by the besieged, with
more unbending grimness than by the be-
slegers. But privation, bereavement,
deadly danger, were companions of the
day and night during those months when
the triple line of steel and fire held the
proud Gaul beyond the reach of sucCor.
And so we were leaving Montmorency
where we had spent many happy days
sketching and taking notes, with our
boots frozen upon our feet and only
bread and cheese for food. The bombs
kept US busily lodging when two or
three of the outlying French forts were
at work on us at once.
But you get used to shells. When they
fall in your neighborhood and send bits
of hot iron hurting around you. q creep
ing feeling invades the whole being; the
eyes grow dim, the heart pumps The
brain questions timidIy: What if this
were the moment of the great call!
What should lido? Should 1 know any
thing in the beyond? Then you look UP
and find yourself alive and you say.
"Pshaw! Is that all?'
There IS terrible fascination in
watching shells as they come IN your
direction. With what magnificent rapid
lty the little white puff of smoke Ear ia
the distance becomes a silver eagle with
widely outstretched wings! See, now it
IS no longer an eagle, but great coud,
which suddenly changes into a black
elongated mass! You hear a lugubrious
Whistling like that of II closely raefed
snip when she dances before q gale
linen that shell has passed over your
head and need interest you no more
You take kind of fearful pleasure in
standing thus unprotected before the I'M
seen enemy, who is trying his best to kill
you, and very likely is singing merriiy at
his toll. Such are the peculiar traits of
our civilization! While
we stood driRking the par ing cup with
our Slganuc friend OF the Fourth corps
two shells fell with laundering and Earring
sound III the street near us. They made
such clangor on the frosty stones, and
sent such SILVER through the Villas
walls, and awakened such confused cries
and waiiings outside that we set our
glasses down, and stood looking at each
other with vague apprehension written
on our faces.
1.-THE devil must have pointed the can
non that time!' said the giant, i'll a
hoarse voice, and he opened the street
door cautiously, as if he half feared that
Mephisto himself might step in, saying,
Il just dropped in on that last bombu'
In rushed the midnight damp and
mist, and with it the sound of lamenta-
ton. We rushed down the steep stone
steps into the narrow and hilly street.
Four soldiers were kneeling around a
fifth, who had been struck in the side
by Jagged piece of iron from one of the