Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1904-03-31

cts Just this" he stormed. II can't
stand five or six rascals who have been
rolliclsing about the town all day. Dress
cd as French soldiers and arm in arm
with Rnvarlans. They are more OF those
miserable little snipes who--what Is the
the time Of tho separation. To think
that we shall have to see them every
day. on their way home. the false AL
saciansr
wei, what would you have9" said
his wife. trying to defend them. 1T isn't
altogether their own fault. 1t Is so far
away to Algeria and Africa where they
are sent! They get sick In those queer
countries and 1t is IL strong temptation
for them to come back, to cease to be
soldiers"
Lory brought his fist down upon the
table with a bang.
shut up!'' ne cried. 'you women don't
understand anything. You stay at nome
all the time and you narrow everything
down to the size of your children. / tell
YOU that such men are scoundrels, rene
gados, the falsest of the false. and II
ever our Christian should prove hiinselr
capable of such bascness. as true as my
name Is Georges Lory and that 1 served
seven years in the infantry OF France,
I would run my sword through his body.
And half rising, he pointed to his regi-
mental sword that hung on the wall just
below the picture of his son. picture
Of soldier OF the Zouaves; but the sight
Of the honest Alsacian face Gained MS
anger and he began to laugh.
Something must have gone 10 my
hcad"" he said. "As If our Christian
would ever think of such thing. he who
killed so many during the war;
The thought quite restored his good
humour and he finished his supper gaily.
and then went away. leaving old mother
Lory alone.
Tho three little children soon fell
asleep. and mother IOry took her work
and sat down on the bench beside the
open door where the soft breezes passed
full of the scents of the little garden close
by. From time to time. she murmured
softly:
Yes. suppose So They are indeed
scoundrcls and renegadeS. But what
difference does it make? Their mothers
are so glad to see them.'
She recalled the time when the boy
stood before her. in this very place. just
before he started for his military ser
vice. She looked at the well whore he
used to fill his watcring-pots for the ut
tie garden. All. how he had loved his
garden. She could still see his long hair
his beautiful hair that they had cut
when he entered his regiment.
Suddenly she trcmblod The little gate
at the back, that led out to the field
was being opened. The dogs did not
bark: nevertheless, whoever it was that
came in was slipping along in the
shadow Of the wall, like a thief
Good evening, mamma"
Her Christian stood before her, ms
uniform torn. his face troubled and
ashamed and his speech thick. The
wretched boy had come back with the
others and for an hour had been watch
ing around tho house, waiting until his
father should have gone away. Mother
| Lory tried to scold him, but she could
not. 1t was so long since she had seer
him. had embraced him. And he had
| such good reasons for coming home, he
could not bear to be separated from
them any longer. Whatever he said, she
| believed. Still talking, they went bach
! into the low kitchen. The children
| awakened. ran out in their bare feet nnt
little night gowns to embrace their biz
brother Mother Lory begged him t.
eat. hut he was not hungry. He wa:
oniv thirsty and he drank glass after
glass of water: somehow his throat fell
queer
| Just then 4 step was heard in the court
| ward, it was the blacksmith returning
| home.
"Christian, here comes your father
| quick hide yourself. until ! have time
| to sneak to him, to explain everything
|
pushed him behind the big tile stove anC
! then sat down, pretending to sew, though
her hands trcmbled. Unfortunately
| Christians Zouave cap was left upon TIN
table and It was the first thing that thu
father saw as he entered. The mother
! Dallor--her embnrraSsment-he under
/ stood ii all.
''Christian is here" he said in a ter
rhle voice. and Selling his sword h,
| rushed towards the stove behind which
trembled the Zouave. clinging to the wal
| in his fright.
The mother threw herself betwee,
them.
"Isory, Iory, do not kill limit was
who wrote to him to come back ! toll,
MIN you needed him in the shop"
The blacksmith stopped. looking at hi
wife. IN the little room close by tn
| children walled aloud, frightened at TIL
angry voices.
"Ah. so YOU made him come back
So He had better go to bed now. In tn
morning I will see what is to be done
The next morning Christian awolSe fror
a heavy sleep, full Of nightmares an
| terrOrs.
Ills father stood before him, drossc
as for journey. All night long Fathe
I.ory had paced up and down before III
house and with the morning his rcsolu
ton had been taken.
Confused, the boy reached out his ham
| 10 where his soldier clothes lay.
mo. not those" said his father serl
ously.
"T,ut Re has no Others" protested tn
mother. fearfuly.
GIVE him mne-I shall not nee
them
While his son was dressing, Fathc
Lory took his uniform, folded it care
fully and slung 1t around his neck wit
the tin case which contained his mill
tary papers.
"Comc, now" he said. The three wen
down stairs without woro. Memorie
of his childhood rushed back to the sol
der as he caught sight of the familia
forge and a wave of tenderness surge
through him. He lonGed to ask forgiv,
ness OF his father, but as he raised hi
eyes he met only look of inoXorabl
stcrnness.
"Roy." said the blacksmith. at length
"hcre is the forge. the implsments-it a
belongs to You. And oil that also" h
added pointing to the little garden out
side. THE bee-hives. the vineyard tn
house, all are yours. Since you have sac
rfced your honor for these things, tn
least you can do is to keep them vel
You are master here. AS for me, al
going away. You owe five years NOR
to Francc--I will pay them for you"
"Oh, Lory, Loryr sobbed his wife.
"Fathcr!' entreatcd the boy. But tn
| blacksmith was already gone, walkin
: with lone strides and not once lookir
back.
| (Copyrighted, 1903 by the Foreign Stor
Syndicate Co.. burlington, VII
ENGLISH AS SHE IS WROTE