Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1911-05-26
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S A N S F A MIL L E |
By ROY NORTON
By ROY NORTON
Copyright by r. L. Nelson

ATR ing printed legend which
D. @A bore evidence of laborious
oainstaking on the part of some one
mt entirely acquainted with the Eng
fish tongue. 1t read as follows:
These boy are nine-year old and orphing.
uas fathaire are Michel Lafayette, who
" Madre These boy have billet in en-
reIloppe to go to see hes fathaire. Be
lind and shove heem along, sill vous plat
les name is Jean Guillot Lafayette.
And Jean Guillot, q pathetic little
agure, worn by long journeying in
rteerage, second-class railway coaches
and humping stages, bore ample
marks that the instructions had been
literally followed and that he had un-
dergone much Showing along. He
was the last to alight from the inte-
rior of the old Concord when, with
.briling brake and loud Gathering
halt, it stopped before the Gold Dig
ger" and he was so stiff and sore from
constant jolting that he almost fell
when his wooden sabots struck the
ground He Strengthened himself up,
drew his grotesquely big cloak around
him, and peered from beneath his
chapeau with bright, fearless, inquir-
ing eyes at the group of miners who
surrounded him.
He was a curiosity to them, in his
peasant garb which smacked so
strongly of the provinces of far-away
France, and beside, he was the first
III frk To-
the hills where men wrought for gold,
fought for it and then with equal fer
yor gambled or danced it away when
the days work was done.
"A mighty little cuss to come SO far
alone" commented the stage agent as
be looked from the letter Of inStruc-
ton in his hand to the boy. Amt
none of US here, l reckon, ever done
40 such travelin'"
Might git him to give lecture"
some one suggested, and others passed
equally facetious remarks; but
through it all Jean Guillot Lafayette,
still studying the faces around him,
stood mute.
The sun had set some time before,
painting the top of solemn Old Baldy's
snow-cap a warm red and filling the
summer air of the dead day with a
singular languorous quietude. Thus it
was that when the stage-agent vented
an exclamation on reading the tag on
the travellers arm it was heard by all.
He stood away from the lad, showed
,.,i- % y, LoA OH oxx1Jr
ward gesture, and stared in pertur-
baton at the others of the group.
Good Lord!" he calculated in dis
tress Good Lord!" while the men
of the hills looked at him question
ingly.
Boys" he said, this little Teller
was sent for"
They shifted on their feet, some of
them taking a step or two forward,
and waited for the agent to continue.
Mike Lafayette was his father"
They grew suddenly quiet. "And I
expect the reason the boy came is be-
cause his folks in France is all dead.
The tag seys he's an orphan
And God knows he's one now, for
sure, muttered another.
Anybody here who can talk
French?"
The silence which followed indicat-
ed that no one spoke that vastly for
eign tongue Spanish would have been
at their command, but French--no.
How in the deuce are we to tell
aim that his daddy-you all knew him
was killed in a cave-in almost
week ago." the stage agent began;
but that difficulty was Unexpectedly
overcome by the boy himself, who
spoke for the first time.
'Eet ees to say, monsieur, he said
IN painstaking English, Eat | now
have no fathaire to meet? That he
is mort? My fathaire Michel Lafay-
cite is keeled?"
He had planted himself squarely
before the stage agent, selecting him
as the man in authority. His capot
had been thrown back with one wide
appealing gesture until it's two flap
ping ends rested across his shoulders,
exposing his sturdy brown legs and
yoluminous breeches of homely drill
His lips trembled vaguely and his Sc
r1ous brown eyes threatened a food
OF tears.
The agent looked at him with
world of kindly sympathy, and then
at the others. Jean stared at them
one after another as If demanding an
explanation, and each in turn dropped
his eyes before this brave picture OF
misery.
The boys hands, after one impui-
sive, halting movement toward his
eyes, waved an expressive, open-nn-
gered gesture of despair, dropped
back to his sides and then clasped
themselves together. He was learn
ing to know and cross palms with
tragedy and with none to help MIN
IL his battle.
''Eet ees, then, that I, Jean Gulllot
Lafayette, am sans famille; that
have Messing - Messing - no one
VOLTA"
There was some bitter, vibrant un-
dercurrent of grief in the pla1ntlVe'
precise drawing of the Il have nos
sing, no one" that made mourn
with one