The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1899-03-22
THE OLD UNIFORM.
A Story of the Zouaves.


had lost n left arm in the Italian cam.
paign, but with his remaining hand he
executed marvels of caligraphy--dow
to drawing with one pen-stroke bird
in the flourish of his signature.
A good fellow, Vidal; the type OF
the upright old soldier, hardly 40, with
a sprinkling of gray in his blonde i'm.
perial-- he had been in the Zouaves.
We all called him Pere Vidal, more
respectfully than familiarly, for we all
knew his honor and devotion. He lived
in cheap little lodging at Grenelle,
where on the money of his cross, his
pension and his salary-he managed
to support his widowed sister aud
her three children.
As at that time |, too, was living in
the southern suburb of Paris, often
walked home with Pere Vidal, and /
used to make him tell of his campaigns
as we passed near the military school,
meeting at every step 1T was at the
close of the empire-the splendid uni
forms of the Imperial Guard, green
chasseurs, white lancers and the dark
and magnificent artillery officers, black
and gold, n costume worth while get
ting killed in.
As we walked along the hideous
Boulevard de Grenelle he stopped sud-
denly before military old-clothes
shop-there are many like it in that
quarter-a dirty, sinister den, showing
in its window rusted pistols, bowls
full of buttons and tarnished epaulets; !;
in front were hung, amid sordid rags,
few cd officers uniforms, rain-rotted
and sunburned; with the slope-in at
the waist and the padded shoulders
they had an almost human aspect.
| Vidal, seizing my arm with his right
hand and turning his gaze on me,
raised his stump to point ont one of the
uniforms, an African officers tunic,
with the killed skirt and the three
gold braids making figure eight on
the sleeve.
''Lookl" he said; ''that's the uni.
form of my old corps, a captains
tunic."
Drawing nearer, he made out the
number engraved on the buttons and
went on with enthusiasm:
my regiment The First Zouaves!"
Suddenly his hand shook, his face
darkened; dropping his eyes, he mur-
INJURED, in a horror-stricken voice:
''What if it were his!'
Then brusquely turning the coat
about he showed me in the middle of
the back little round hole, bordered
by blsck rim blood, of course-it
made one shudder, like the sight of a
wound.
"a nasty scar" ] said to Pere
Vidal, who had dropped the garment
and was fastening away. And fore
seeing tale, added to spur him on :
cts not usually in the back that bull
let's strike captains of the Zouaves. /"
He apparently did not hear me; he
mumbled to himself: "dow could it
get there? It's long way from the
battlefield of Melegnano to the Boule-
ward OF Grenelle! Oh, yes, l know
the carrion crows that follow the army;
the strippers of the dead! But why
just there, two steps from the military
school where the other fellows regi-
ment is stationed? He must have
passed; he must have recognized it.
What a ghostr'
'See here, Pere Vidal" said I, vio-
lently interested, "stop your mutter-
ing, and tell me what the riddled tunic
recalls to you"
He looked at me timidly, almost sus-
piciously. Suddenly, with great ef-
fort, he began:
tWal1 than bara S,oo, e., Al, -.
/ can trust you; You will tell me frank
ly, on your honor, if You think my
condnct excusable. Where shall l
begin? All, l can't give you the other
mans surname, for he is still living,
but will call him by the name he
went under in the giment-Dry-Jea can
and he deserved it, with his II
drinks at the stroke Of noon.
HE was sergeant in the Fourth of
the Second, my regiment, good
fighter, bnt fond of quarrel and drink
all tue bad habits of the African
soldier; brave as a bayonet, with cold,
steel-blue eyes and rough red beard
on his tanned cheeks. When l en-
tered the regiment Dry-Jean had lust
re-enlisted. He drew his paw aad
went on three days spree. He and
two companions of the same kidney
rolled through the low quarters of Al
giers in cab, flying tri.color bear
ing the words, at won't last forever"
1t did wind up with knock down
fight. Dly-Jean got cut on the
head from a tringo that nearly fin
ished him, fortnight in the guard
room and the loss of his stripes-the
second time he had lost them.
"Of well-io-do parents and with
some education, he would have risen
to be an officer long before if it had
not been for his conduct. Eighteen
months later he got his stripes back
again, thanks to the indulgence of the
old African captain who had seen him
under fire in Kabylis. Hereupon our
cid captain is promoted chief Of bat