Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1905-08-24
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The Numbered
His Regiment
BY FRANCOIS coPPEE
BY FRANCOIS coPPEE

sNdILls 2t the harvest times, but 81
ugly and suspicious in appearance tina
, he was driven away from all the farm
, where he asked for work.
The stick of oak upon which h,
leaned looked less like an innocen
walking stick than a murderer's blud
geon and, stamped on the under sid,
Of his coarse blouse, there was doubt
less the black, ignoble number Of the
galley or prison.
His age? Misfortune knows none
Tall and thin, he walked with the agil.
ity of young man, but his yellow
mustach was grizzled and years of mil
itary discipline showed I'm his straight
shoulders and erect carriage. The man
was following narrow path between
two cornfelds, whole high stalks
reached nearly TO his bead
He had No idea where the road
would lead him. Before MIN and be-
side him the golden fields shone in
the June sun. Scattered gayly among
/ the waving corn stalks were brilliant
peoples and blue cornaowers where
his note betraying him. the cicada
\ shrilled monotonously. Overhead. the
pure blue Of the noon sky was unbro-
ken by single fleece cloud.
The tramp rubbed his arm across
/ his wet brow.
The day before. in answer 10 his
hoarse, pleading question: Have you
a days worn for me. !" the farmers.
after a quick glance at the rough face.
had one and all replied defantly:
mo! We need no one.
There were just three sous left in
the tramp's pocket With these he
had bought a bit Of bread and eaten
Il as he went along. drinking from the
brook beside him
When night came June night.
glowing with radiant stars. the out
cast jumped a hedge and. his stick for
pillow. slept soundly until daybreak.
To-day he had had nothing 10 eat.
but his keenest distress was his lacl,
Of tobacco It was long since he had
been able to get any. and the pipe in
his blouse pocket was a constant ag-
gravation.
As he plodded through the warm
understanding fields. the tramp
thought vaguely Of his dark horrible |
life.
A founding brought up by a char |
ity nurse in the country. he could re- |
call nothing Of his early childhood |
save his terror Of tbs old woman |
whose hand was always lifted to
strike. He had worked with her in |
the forests, gathering dry wood and
roofing in tie soft earth like a pig
Tor the aeorns that eked out his scanty
fare OF black bread and thin SOUP. and
somehow. In some way, he had scram-
bled up to boyhood
When he was eight the old crone re-
luctantly sent him 10 school. where he
learned to read and write and count
But his comrades, little peasant bows
with red cheeks, full OF nourishing
soup and cruelty. called him the
witch's son and would have nothing to
do with him. He returned their hatred
warmly and his school life was the
scene Of constant fighting. battles in
which, happily for him. he was almost
always the victor,
His wicked old nurse died when he !
was IA and the boy would then have
starved had he not obtained work as
stable Lad Of three francs month and
the privilege of sleeping in the straw.
Hated by his companions. Knocked by
all the girls about him, passing for
IN idiot because he was suiieniv IN
'ooiable. he had yet grown % be a
strong vigorous young man. Then he
vas seized by the conscript officer and
'ent 70 the seventy-hfth regiment OF
4.
Those first years IN the regiment
we're his only happy memories. There
or the first time this pariah. this So
ial outcast. learned the meaning OF
he words equality and justice.
His uniform might be too thick in
ummer and too thin IN winter. but II !
ras what every other soldier wore. his :
ations were often impossible TO eat
nj his we're no different from anyone
lse's. In his barracks. tn the bunk /.
ext his. slept a viscount who had en- !,
sted after several escapaees. Here !,
what a surprise, one man sas the !,
quail Of another; and to rise I'm rank. /
ne virtue only was sary-obefi- !.
nee.
This much his early training had \
iuEht him. More intelligent less FL +.
terate than most OF the HlocFheaHs !.
] their red trousers. the man had won I
IS c0rpOrars stripes ar the end OF his !
rst year. a. the end Of the second he /.
"a sergeant Now. when ne met I.
lem, the privates were the FIRST rs
lise their hands in salute
A single night Of drunkenness. OF
ply. and all that he had gained was 4
st He had just been appointed SER
eant-maior. One day, vhen he had Il