Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1914-07-17
to the Aged.
The Dispatch.
BY MAURICE LEVEL.

BY MAURICE LEVEL.
Why does not Father Rabut or
Ma1tre Rabut, as he was called
by everyone, want to be mayor
of the village, was the question
everybody had asked himself for
years, for surely this honor was
his by right.
His farms and vineyards were
the finest for miles around, his
horses, his dogs, his oxen were
better than anybody else's and
his fruit was often served at the
table in Palais Elysees.
It was we'll known that he was
good to the poor and that he had
always been a hard worker. ia
quarrel arose between too peas
ants he was always chosen arbi-
traitor, and no one ever thought
of criticising his verdict.
Every time election came near
his friends would say: so you
are not going to be candidate
this time, either? You don't want
to wear the tricolored scarf and
marry our children?"
No." Father Rabut would
answer. Il am too old now.
Wait until my bov comes home.
then you may elect him and l
will feel more honored than If l
was elected myself"
How he loved and was proud
of that boy! His whole face
beamed when he spoke of him,
but he was not proud without
reason, for Raoul had always
been the first in his class ever
since he entered school, and his
teacher had prophes,ed that he
would surely in time become a
great man.
Just now he was serving his
term in a cavalry regiment sta
toned at Compiegne, and the
old man told every one that he
would surely come home at least
asergeant.
The homecoming was all that
the old man thought of now, and
when there was no one else to
talk to about the boy he would
pour out the feelings at his heart
to Tom, Raoul's favorite pointer.
Il can see it in your eyes,
Tom-you feel lonesome. You
are longing for your master and
wonder when he will come back.
Well, I'll tell you-may be in
year. And then you will be
happy. think of the long walks
in the fields and all the game
that he will shoot, for there is
not a better shot in the whole
department than your master,
my boy"
When he got a letter from
Raoul the whole village knew it
an hour afterward, for he would
walk through the streets with
the letter in his hand and stop
and show it to every man he met.
And then he would ask some
friend to read it aloud for the
pleasure of listening to the treas
ured words once more, until he
at least knew it by heart.
Months passed and the day
drew near when promotions were
to be announced. Father Rabut
carried a tape measure in his
pocket, and every day he cut off
a centimeter to have visible
proof OF the time growing
shorter.
The boy had written him that
if he was made a sergeant before
being honorably discharged from
the service he would send him a
telegram, and now old Father
| Rabut would be watching for a
messenger boy from dawn till
nightfall, or when he grew too
impatient he would 60 to the
| telegraph Office and watch the
the instruments ticking off their
mysterious messages.
One morning, a Saturday, as
| Father Rabut was chatting with
friends in the market place, he
saw the towns only telegraph
messenger coming toward him
carrying the well. known blue
envelope and his heart began to
beat.
Gould it be for him? Was his
Raoul really a sergeant now?"
! Yes, the messenger came to
him and asked him to sign the
receipt, but his hand trembled &c