The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1901-05-16

lash Of Cigarettes tongue, to the in
finite glee on the whole ballroom.
IF you were but man!' Numbered
the insulted Barbe-Grise.
What would you do to me, brig
and screamed Cigarette in fits Of
laughter-"give me so blows of a stick,
as your officer gave you last week for
stealing his gun from the recruit?'
A growl like lion from the badger
ed Barbe-Grise shook the walls. She
had cast her mischievous stroke at him
on very sore point, the unhappy
young conscri s rifle having been
first dexterously thieved from him and
then as dexterously sold to an Arab.
''Sacre bleu" he reared. "You are in
love with this conqueror of woman
this aristocratr'
The only answer to this unbearable
insult was a louder tumult of laugh
ter, crash, a splash and volley Of
oaths from Barbe- Grise.
Cigarette had launched a bottle Of
wine at him, blinded his eyes and
drenched his beard with the red tor
and was back again, dancing like a
little Bacchante and singing at the top
Of her sweet, larklike voice.
At the sound Of the animated alter
cation, not knowing but what one of
his own troopers might be the delin
quent. he who leaned out of the little
easement moved forward to the door
guess that it was himself whom she
had defended against the onslaught Of
the Zephyr BarbeGrise.
His height rose far above the French
| soldiers and above most even Of the
lofty statured spahis, and her rapid
glance flashed over him at once. Did
he hear?' she wondered. The scarlet
flush of exercise and excitement deep
ened OF her clear brown cheek that had
never blushed at the coarsest jests or
the broadcast love words Of the barrack
life that had been about her ever since
her eyes first opened in their infancy
to laugh at the sun CLEAN on a cuiraS-
sier's corselet among the baggage wag
ons that her mother followed. She
thought he had not heard. His face
was grave, a little weary, and his gaze
as it fell on her was abstracted.
"Oh-he, handsome solder!' thought
Cigarette, with g. flash of hot wrath su-
perseding her momentary and most
rare embarrassment. "You are look
ing at me and not thinking of me- We
will soon change that"
Such an insult she had never been
subjected to from the first day when
she had danced for sWeetmeats on the
top of a great drum when she was
years old in the middle of circular
camp Of tirailleurs. 1t sent fresh nerve
into her 1.-the limbs, it made her eyes
fash like so much fire, it gave her a
millionfold more grace, more abandon,
more heedlessness. She stamped her
tiny. spurred foot petulantly.
"Quicker, quicker" she cried. and as
the musician obeyed her she whirled,
she spun, she bounded, she seemed to
live in air, while her soft curls few off
her brow, and her white teeth glanced,
and her cheeks glowed with a carmine
glow, and the little gold agfets broke
across her chest with the beating of her
heart, that throbbed like a birds heart
when it is wild with the first breath Of
spring.
She had pitted herself against him,
and she won-so far.
The vivacity, the impetuosity, the an
telope elegance, the voluptuous repose
| that now and then broke the ceaseless,
sparkling movement of her dancing,
caught his eyes and fixed them on her.
It was bewitching. and it bewitched
him for the moment. He watched her
as in other days he had watched the
ballet charms of opera dancers.
Suddenly she lifted both her hands
above her head.
with me- soldiers!''
1t was the signal we'll known, the
signal of permission to join in that
wild vertigo for which every one Of her
| spectators was painting. Their pipes
were flung away, their caps tossed off
their heads, the music clashed louder
and faster and more fiery with every
sound, the chorus of the "Marseillaise
des Bataillons' Numbered from hun
dred voices-they danced as only men
can dance who serve under the French
| flag and live under the African sun.
Two only looked on, the Chasseur DAFT
riQue and veteran Of the Tenth CON-
pany famed for life at Mazagran.
Are you a stupid? Don't you dance
eh?' muttered the veteran to his silent
companion.
The chasseur turned and smiled
Il prefer dance whose music is the
cannon, good father"
Bravo! Yet she is pretty enough to
tempt you?"
Eyes; too pretty to be unsexed by
such life"
His thoughts went to a woman he
had loved we'll, young Arab, with
eyes like the softness of dark waters.
who had fallen to him once in a razzia
as a share of the spoil and for whom
he had denied himself cards, or wine,
OF tobacco, or an hour at the cafe. or