The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1903-11-20
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:. /. VILLAGE ALIEN y, =,
IS o'pS''A" 1907 by By Viola Roseboro' ~
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been had it referred to one of Uncle
Billy's ancient hounds. But old Bios
sier himself naturally took no such
view of the matter. He understood
English very imperfectly, but he be-
lieved that France was honored in his
person, and he had his ragged straw
hat pressed to his bosom as he bowed
low to the officer in command before
beginning to express as best he could
between the two languages his grati-
fed sense Of their regard for Ia belle
France, when, 10, he raised his head
and officer and men were gone, hurry
ing, backs toward him, up the street!
Strathboro people would have con-
sidered old Blossier crazy if they had
not felt obscurely that such an opinion
included an admission that he had once
been sane, an admission so unthinkable
that they contented themselves with
explaining everything on the ground
that he was q Frenchman.
Yes; he was Frenchman. That was
still clear to even his poor confused
brain, though little else autobiography
ical was. He was not old in years, not
much more than forty, but the adjec-
tive was more than an epithet; it was
descriptive of his relation to life. How
he had drifted to Strathboro he would
have found it hard to tell. He had
dim memories of barricades and dan
gers and swelling emotions in his
youth, and he cherished them and
around them gathered vague senti-
ments of patriotism that still stirred
within him at the mention of France
and of liberty, but the changes of the
years had been too much for his pow
ers of synthesis. He had been hustled
through too many and too varied
scenes; he could not untangle the coil
OF memory he was confused; he gave
it up; he lived on from day to day.
For five years he had so lived in
Strathboro. He maintained himself by
doing odd jobs of many kinds-nursing
the sick, laying out gardens, particu-
larly flower gardens, and tending them,
mending furniture, painting indoor
woodwork and making odd toys which
children particularly adored. In fact
he did all these things and others un-
commonly well, else in this slave own
ing community he would have had
nothing to do. He never had much, and
the war had not increased his income
but he lived some way in the queer
little hut he had built himself in a
wornout abandoned field at 1.-THE edge
of the town." and he had so far re-
deemed a portion of the exhausted
land as to have fiourishing bit of gar
den at his door, which of course was
great help for the summer. He did not
return in kind the good natured curious
contempt Strathboro felt for him. No;
in his muddled way he was cosmopoli-
tan and felt for his neighbors regard
that in some cases was almost affec-
ton. And now today as he stood in
the middle of the old turnpike and
watched his feeble and saddened fel-
low townsmen as they started with
their armed escort upon their long, hot
march his heart yearned with anxiety
for them. He had nursed Mr. Patten
through that spell of typhoid fever that
had left him SO weak; he remembered
Jimmy Pembroke's broken leg, never
properly set, and how much walking
always started it hurting; he looked up
at the lofty head of old Judge Caldwell
with pitying awe and wondered how
the soldiers could thus humiliate digni
ty and worth. TIut 1t was when his eye
turned back to the hollow eyed, staring
women, hanging over gates and out of
windows and forth from gallery steps
to see the last Of the prisoners, that his
feelings choked him. He alone was left
to care for them.
In after years this whole incident
took a humorous tone in Strathboro
traditions, but the comical side of it
was pretty well lost sight of at the
time Several citizens, on suspicion OF
aiding in the depredations of soldiers
and bushwhackers, had been shot re-
Gently in that same Tullahoma camp
and now the wrathful general was
swearing he would keep his communi
cations open If he had to kill every
man along the whole line of the rail,
road. The sunlight seemed a glare
rather than a radiance in Strathboro
that day.
Over the hill the marching men
passed out of sight, leaving a faint
trail of dust, like smoke. behind them.
Blossier went up the street and stopped
Mt Mrs. Pembroke's gate She was a
widow, and Jimmy, whose lame leg
Blossier so sorrowfully remembered,
was her only son. She sat on her front
steps, her gray, disordered head in her
hands. Blossier barred his as he stood
there silent.
"Oh, they didn't take your was Miss
GATHERINGS salutation when she finally
saw him.
"Non, madame. l rest here for to
protect re ladies. l am rejoice to aid
you of any maniere. Ze government
regard my country, VOLTA je-how you
say-I is here. Command Blossier
madame"
'There amt anything you can do"
said Miss Catherine wearily, and she
got up and went into the house. She
thought it hard that she must be both
cred by old Blossy just then.
AS evening drew on Blossier reflected
that in the long silent stretch of the
night would lie the severest trial to
Nthe ladies'" strained nerves. He put