La Junta tribune., 1899-01-07

-Jean-Victor, and nothing further, for
am foundlins My only happy men,
ories are those of my earliest childhood,
in the hospice. The sheets We're white
on our little beds in the dormitory. we
played under big trees in the garden. and
there was onn sister, quite young, as pale
rs wax tapcr-she was dying of con-
sumption-whose pet l was. liked to
walk with her better than to play with
the other children, because she used to
press me against her skirt and put her
thin. hot hand on my brow. But at la,
after my first communion, the wretched-
ness began.
The administration had put me ont to
apprenticeship at chair seater's of the
Faubourg st. Jacques. It's no trade at
all, you know-out of the question to
make ones living nt it; the proof of that
is that usually the patron could only Sc
cure as apprentices the poor wretches from
the blind school There Is where l began
to starve The master and his wife-thcy
were afterwnrd murdered-wore terrible
misers and the bread-you got bit cut
off for you mt each meal-stiid under lock
and key the rest OF the time And In the
evening, at supper, you should have seen
the missis, In her frowsy black cap, serv
ing out the soup to us and hcarinR sigh
every time she dipped the ladle into the
tureen. The two other apprentices from
the blind asylum We're less miserable than
l. They got no more than /; but, at least,
they couldn't see the rcproaGhful glare of
the old witch us she held out my plate to
me-and the worst was l already had my
huge appetite Was it any fault of mine;
starved there as apprentice for three years
thrive years you can learn the trade in
month, but the administration can't
know everything and doesn't suspect that
the children are being exploited. All, you
are surprised to sec me pick bread up out
of the mudl I'm used to IT. I've picked
many n crust out of the garbage heaps
and, when they were too dry, l let them
soak all night in my washbowl Some
times there were finds, to be sure, half
nibbled buns from schoolboys' baskots--l
used to hang around the schools when on
errnnds And, then, when the apprentice
ship was over. there was the trade that.
as | told you, doesn't half feed its man
Oh, ! tried other things, I warrant you
! put my heart into my work I've been
shopboy, mason's boy, floor polishcr-
God knows what BAH One day the
work would give out, the next I'd lose my
place In short, l never ate my flll-thun-
der, what torturcs I've felt passing IA bak-
cry Luckily for me. at such moments
always remembered the good sister at the
hospice who so often told me to be honest,
and thought felt her hot hand on my
forehead. Finally, at is, l enlisted. You
know as well Ms i the trooper gets barely
enough Now-it's almost laughable-
here come siege and faminei You see,
wasn't lying Just now when l told you
I'd always been hungry"
The young duke was good hearted. The
terrible confession, made by n fellow man,
by a soldier whose uniform made him his
4. .,-I.,
for his clubman Is reputation for sang froid
the night " ind dried In his eyes something
that threatened to dim them. jean Vic
tor, he said, "if we both survive this ter
riblc war, we shall meet again, and hope
to be of some use to you. But for the
present, ms there Is no baker ON the out
posts but the corporal, and as my ration
Of bread is twice the size Of my appetite.
you ns comrnde must share with me
That's settled. "
The two men shook hands heartily;
then. as night was falling, and ms they
were worn out by long hours and constant
skirmishing, they re.entered tho tavern.
where dozen soldiers were lying on
straw Throwing themselves down side
by side, they snnk into heavy sleep,
Toward midnight Jean Victor awoke,
hungry probably The wind had swept
away the clouds, and moonbeam, slip
ping through n hole In the roof, lay on the
fair hnir of the young duke, slumbering
like Endymion. Still overcome at his
comrades kindness, Jean Victor was gaz-
ing at him with half admiration, when
the sergeant opened the door and called
the Ave men whose turn 1t was TO relieve
the sentinels of the outpost. The duke
was among them, but he did not wake
when his name was called.
~ reppnfR1 the sergeant.
III you've no objection, sergeant, said
Jean Victor, rising, I'm take his place.
He is sleeping so well, and he's my com
rnde''
''As you please.
And when the five men were gone the
snoring began again.
Half an hour later shots hasty and near
at hand were heard. In n second every
man was on his feet. The soldiers left the
tavern, stepping cautiously, their fingers
on their triggers, peering down the road.
white In the moonlight.
But what time is itr WAS on duty
tonight" said the duke.
Some one replied. Jean Victor went in
your place.
At this moment soldier was seen run
ming down the road toward them. "WellS'
they asked him when he halted breathless
1.-The Prussians are making an attack
We are to fall back on the redoubt."
"And the other sentinelsr"
"They are coming-all except poor Jean
Victor"
WHAT" cried the duke.
"A bullet in his head. He didn't even
groan."
Toward Q o'clock one night last winter
the duke left the club with his neighbor,
the Comte do Saulnes. He had lost n few
hundred louis and had headache.
If you have no objection, Andre, we
will walk home The air will do me
good
"As you like, old fellow, but he streets
are horrible"
They ordered their coupes home, turned
up their overcoat collars and started to-