Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1913-04-02

5A1Om tae uo0 OF nAo " 0nc0St0So.
Sanchez. the man. buried him, and.
having dutifully. performed this last
task. walked away from the grave
and out of the army. ;sf5 l5ts{; /.
During this while the son by the
peasant woman, Entrusted to an old
fishwife who had been allowed to
usarp a patch 81 his fathers lands,
received scanty care and attention.
wen when the stipulated fees for his
maintenance had continued to come;
but when, at the Setgneur''s death,
they ceased, any slight solicitude on
the caretaker's part soured to acri.
}mony. An offspring OF dubious par
$entage. she begrudged him his bread;
kept him from her own precious
brood. and taught them to address him
as brat" 'pauper."" or by terms even
more forcible. Thus set upon, fire.
quently he fought; but like young
wolves, hunting in packs, they wor-
iried him to the earth, and, when he
continued to struggle. beat him TO- I'M
consciousness, II not submission.
One day. after such an experience
at the hands OF those who had par
taken of the Seigneur's nberality. the
boy, all bruised and aching, fed to
the woods, and, with the instinct of
an animal to hide, buried himself in
its deepest recesses: Night came; en-
comprised by strange sounds. un-
known terrors, he crept to the verge
Of the forest, and lying there. looked
out across the distance toward the
scattered ihabitations, visible through
the gloom. One tiny yellow dot OF
light which he located held his
glance. Should he return? That
small stone hut. squalid As it was.
had been his onlyaremembered home.
But the thought ofSthe reception that
awaited him there made him hest
tare; the stars coming out, seemed to
lend courage to his resolution, and,
with his face yet turned toward the
low long strip Of land. sprink,sd with
the faint, receding points Of Eight, he
fell asleep. n 4.
The earliest shafts Of morn. how
ever, awaking him. sent him quickly
back into the dark forest, where all
day he kept to the most shadowy
screens and covers. fearing nv should
be followed. and. perhaps, captured.
But the second night was like the
first, the next like the second. and the
days continued to pass with no signs
Of pursuit. Pinched by hunger. GER
tain of the berries and roots he ate
poisoned him, until In time he profited
by his su1erings and learned to dis
criminate In his choice of the frugal
fare about him. Not that his appe-
tite was ever satisfied. even when he
extended his explorations to the
beach at night. digging in the sand
with his fingers for cookies or prowl.
ing about the rocks for mussels.
s% Yet, despite all, he Rugged to his
breast . compensating sense OF NIB
serty; the biting tooth OF autumn was
preferable to the stripes and tongue
hastings OF the old life; and, II now
frugal repasts were the rule, hunger
had often been his lot in the past. So
he assimilated with his surroundings;
learned not to fear the animals. and
they. to know, him; indeed. they
seemed to recognize him by that
sharp unsated CLINT of the, eye 40 one
|. Of their kind. When the days grew
sbleaker and the nights colder, he took
refuge in Z corner within the gray
walls Of the moss.grown castle OF his
ancestors, Il the old Seigneurs. No
cheerful place, above all ct night,
when the spirits OF the dead seem to
walk abroad. and sobs. means. and
fierce voices I'LL the air! Then. creep
ing closer to the IRE he had started
In the giant hearth. wide-syed he
would listen. only ut length through
sheer wearinsss TO fall asleep. Never
theless, 1t was shelter. and here.
throughout the winter. the boy 70;
NAMED. Es2 5f}y ...e @
- 81. !. ITO BE CQNTlNuEQ.l $50 -