Clinch Valley news. [volume] (Jeffersonville, Va.) 18??-2019, 1914-10-23
LUNCHEON HOUR ON BATTLE
FIELD.


-"Garcon, the nors d'ocufres" Tho
waiter brings up wide, fiat tray di-
Vided OF into twelve compartments
ana iianNcd by huge jar of pate. In
mo connartments are every kind of
ehoice titbits-anchovies, sardines
aeis' hgs' rotato-saiad, shrimps, etc,
ete'' crisp, warm rolls, fresh, sweet
normandy butter, snowy napery. toll
Sp%rEiing glasses, clattcr of knives
ana FORKS. popping OF corks, sizyle of
'yphons. flow and gurglc of wine. red
ana white. Monsieur's plate is pilcd
win pate de fois gras. His napkin
IS tucked under his chin. His ewes
shine. lie settles down to it.
These shrimps are excellent M,
ioi! excellent. ust n few-a dozc,
or SO All! And now
Tor lunch! But them an who m;ssos
the hors doeuvrcs at the Brasserie-
Is TOOL, mon ami! He does not know
what is good for his SOUL"
On the wide steps of the beautiru,
,athedral. Tho town shattered and
sun smoking. An acrid smell toini .
no atmosphere. The sun streams
own, hot and blazing. upon Tho I'M
Gathering of the general staff of
ne French army. They are seated
round upturncd empty cases of mo-
or essence, in drawing-room chnirs
resrred from the loot of the Mayor's
beautiful chalet. White tablccloths
are spread over the motor csscncc
cases. There are napkins. too. folded
carefully into the scmblancc of n bisn-
ops mitre.
young lieutenant marches up the
cathedral steps His arms are loaded
with provcndcr-a yard of brcoJ.
three bottles of Rhine wine tho Ger
man officers left behind in their sud
deh Hight from the town thev nrc
now lying dend and still unburicd in
horrible farmhouse four m;,os
away, four tins of sardines and slnb
OF Gruyere cheese wrapped up in an
old copy of "La Gucrre Socialc" Iii.
arms and hands thus burdcncd. he cam
not salute the general, but he clicks
ms spurrcd heels together and bows
stiiliy.
"ou will join us in our dcjcuncr.
Lieutenant ---?"
"Merci, mon general, but have nj
ready lunchcdl" He deposits the pro-
cious fare upon the tablccloth. salutcs
and marches down again into the
gloomy town.
AS the dcjcmcr proceeds in stately
ceremony, women and girls, pale.
wide-eyed, and wondering, and all
dressed in black from head to heel,
mount the steps, pass trembling by
the bright uniforms, and steal through
the great west door of the lovely fame
to pray for the souls of their dead
The French column in marching
through the glades absolutely noise
lessly except for the complaining
creali of the big wheels of the ammu-
milton wagons. The Zouaves-well-
nigh 1000 of thcm-are swinging
along in tours Mt the head of the col
umn. AS we move northwnrd under
the Whispering trees talk to one of
their oflicers-a tall, slim fellow, with
the dark, dreamy eyes of n poet, eyes
which seem to be gazing far, far away,
and n voice soft and musical.
"There," says he, pointing to the
head of the line, "nre marching the
200 heroes Of the red taxicabs. When
Scnlisw as still burning and the enc
my were dancing like gnomes in the
red light, my Zouavcs in the little
crimson autos whirled gaily into the
town, surprised the ravisheps.
slaughtered many of them, and drove
the rest into the wods. They caught
thee olonel sleeping in the chateau
of M. Simond (whom he had shot)
and chased him naked, except for his
shirt through the park. He hid in {"
drain, but they found him."
The story stops here. From the
head of thee olumn comes the sharp
word: "iialt" 1t travles down the
line as far as my lieutenant. "TIalt,"
says he in almost whisper 80 that
girlish voice of his, and the next mo-
ment the Zouaves have stacked their
arms, cased their pilgrim packs, and
are sprawling on the soft grass by
tho roadside.
Attention." and the quick word to
march. The column closes in and
swings on again. Over the red fez
dances the bright plume of cock
pheasants tail feather. We are not
satisfied with breaking Natures laws
in this great game of war. We must
break the game laws as we'll
Not n house stands. Even the vi
lagc gardens have been swept empty
by the passing hurricane. An old wo-
man, one of the few left from the
prey because she was too old, stag
gers and gropes half-blindly along the
rubbish scattered street. We offer