Greene County herald. (Leakesville, Miss.) 1898-current, 1907-11-08

wax taper-she was dying of cor
sumption-whose pet 1 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 twelve, after my first
communion, the wretchedness began.
The administration had put me out to
apprenticeship at a chair-seater's of
the Faubourg st. Jacques. It's no
trade at all, you know-out of the
question to make ones living at it;
the proof of that is that usually the
patron could secure as apprentices
only the poor wretches from the Blind
School. There is where / began to
starve. The master and his wife
they were afterwards murdered-were
terrible misers, and the bread-you
got bit cut off for you at each meal
stayed 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 heaving a
sigh every time she dipped the ladle
into the tureen. The two other ap-
prentices from the Blind Asylum were
less miserable than 1; they got no
more than I, but, at least, they
couldn't see the reproachfuI glare of
the old witch as she held out my
plate to me-and the worst was,
already had my huge appetite. Was
it any fault of mine? / starved there
as apprentice for three years-three
years!-you can learn the trade in a
month, but the administration can't
know everything and doesn't suspect
that the children are being exploited.
All! you are surprised to see me pick
bread up out OF the mud! Allez! I'm
used to it. I've picked many a crust
out of the barbage heaps, and, when
they were too dry, let them soak
all night in my wash-bowl.- Some
times there were finds, to be sure,
/ half-nibbled buns from schoolboys'
baskets used to hang around the
schools when on errands. And, then
when the apprenticeship was over,
there was the trade that, as l told
you, doesn't half feed its man. Oh,
l tried other things, 1 warrant you.
1 put my heart into my work I've
been shop-boy, mason's boy, floor-pol-
isher-God knows what BAH One
day the work would give out, the next
I'1 lnCn my T1onn IN chnrt 7 M
ate my fill-thunderl what fortunes
I've felt passing bakery Luckily
for me at such moments | always re-
membered the good sister at the Hos
pice who so often told me to be hon.
est, and 1 thought l felt her hot hand
on my forehead. Finally, at eighteen.
l enlisted; you know as well as
the trooper gets barely enough Now
its almost laughable-here come
siege and famine! You see, l wasn't
lying just now when / told you I'd
always been hungry"
The young duke was good-hearted.
The terrible confession, made by IA
fellow-man, by a soldier whose uni
form made him his equal, moved him
deeply. Fortunately for his clubman's
reputation for sang-froid the night
wind dried in his eyes something that
threatened to dim them. Jean Wet
or" he said, "if we both survive this
terrible war, we shall meet again,
and l hope to be of some use to you.
But for the present, as there is no
baker on the outposts but the cor
poral, and as my ration of bread is
twice the size of my appetite, you as
comrade must share with me. That's
settled"
The two men shook hands heartily;
then, as night was falling, and as they
were worn out by long hours and con-
slant skirmishing, they re-entered the
tavern, where a dozen soldiers were
lying on straw; throwing themselves
down side by side, they sank into a
heavy sleep.
Toward midnight, Jean Victor
awoke-hungry, probably. The wind
had swept away the clouds, and. d
moonbeam, slipping through hole in
the roof, lay on the fair hair of the
young duke. slumbering like Endy-
mion Still overcome at his COM
rade's kindness, Jean Victor was gaz-
ing at him with naif admiration.
when the sergeant opened the door
and called the FIVE men whose turn
it was to relieve the sentinels of the