Forest City press. (Forest City, Potter County, D.T. [S.D.]) 1883-19??, 1914-08-26
ARpmdm Observation-Disclosures
TIE MARSHAL
&Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews
Aa1A"' The Perfect TZbu1e. etc
Copyright, The DohbsN eedu cnneern
CHAPTER XXv1II-Nontinued,.
copyrish.. The nosb.xerrm ca.ro


Francois stood regarding her. witt
frank admiration in every muscle u
his face. He smiled, the same senu,
amused smile with which he had ad-
dressed the portrait. you never tall
too much for me, Mademoiselle. II is
q pleasure to me always To hear YOU
vocie," he answered in the deep tons
of a ~Frenchman, the ton that has ever
q half not of tragedy, as OF some a
III which centuries do not wipe
out. only" he went on speaking ir
French, "one must not talk English
That is breaking the law, you remem
Der, Mademoiselle."
She answered very prettily in his
own tongue. in words that halted a
little. Very we'll. Monsieur. l will dc
my best" He still gazed at her smiling,
stand that, to Il girl of more s%elf-con-
tanned people, this open homage OF
manner, his affectionate g%entleness,
might seem to mean more thar a
%brotherly loyalty. The girls pulse vas
beating fast as she made an effort for
conversation. What were you think
ing of as you looked at the fire when
/ came in, Monsieur? 1t had an air
of being something pleasant. Did / not
say all that beautifully" she finished
In Englishh
He corrected a lame verb with
serious accuracy n she repeated the
word. md laughed happily.
But you havent's said yet what you
were thinking about"
The large brown Eyes turned on
hers. ut was of my old home in
France, Mademoiselle, when l was very
little" he said simply. "A large fire
Of logs makes me think of that
"Tell me about it," she begged with
quick interest. will you? Was there
always a fire at your house?"
but no, Observation-Disclosures. Of
course, in the summer 1t was of the
winter time l thought, when the
neighbors came, in the evening, and
we sat about the hearth, sometimes 20
people, each at his different duty, and
my brothers and sisters We're there, and
the dear grand-mere vas there and"
he stopped. Docs Mademoiselle really
wish to hear how it was in that old
farmhouse of ours, in the shadow of
the Jura mountains?"
Indeed, Mademoiselle wishes it," she
assured him. 1T will be a trip to
Europe. l am sure l shall speak bet
ter French for going to France for 10
minutes. and being among the French
people, your friends. Wait now, till 1
am comfortable" She turned a deep
so that it faced him, and dropped
into 1T. Put a footstool for me-" she
ordered, as southern women order the
men they care for-and the men they
DO not. And h settled back with her
little feet on it and smiled at him. For
ONE h mans brilliant gaze
rested on her and the girl saw 1t and
to 1t. Now, monsieur, racon-
tez-moi une historic" she spoke softly.
: Francois Beaupre's look turned from
ner to the fire. and the air OF gazing
AZ something far away came again. 1T
y q picture l see as I think of that
time OF my childhood" he began, as if
speaking to himself. "A picture many
times painted in home-lik colors on
my brain. Many a night in the winter
l have sat. a little boy, by the side of
my grandmother, at that great hearth,
Inc lave looked and have seer all the
harve heard all the voices and
the fire cracking. and the spinning
wheel Whirring. even as / see them and
near them tonight. I was always close
est of the children to her. Sometimes
after my bed time l sat there, but
very quietly, for fear that my mother
might remember and send me to bed:
yet n liked to please the grandmere, SO
! stayed often longer than the others.
4t was q. great room, and across one
corner was the hearth which was
raised like a throne. mademoiselie'
from the floor. ~ feet wide. One burned
logs six feet long within it, and from
up the chimney swung the cremaillere
tine chains from which were hung the
kettles. It was the house Of a peasant,
mademoiselle knows. yet 1t was the
Dess Y ~ h village. Often, Of a
November night, the neighbors would
some In. perhaps a dozen, perhaps
more. and the young men had their
arranged the flax for spin
ming. 1t might be-and the young girls
apples to dry. and the moth
ers' knitting needles flashed back and
Iortn on the stockings for our winter
spinning linen threads for our clothing
Ewhlrf... WhirrI can hear the low
sound Of her wheel. And always /.
Francois. would be on the stool at her
side. Watching and listening. For my
father was q great reconteur, and he
told stories OF the war and Of the leg
endo OF that country. It was an an
Gent country you must know, made-
moteelle, and the name OF our village
ttoef was from the Romans. Vicques
the ename. and that as you know,
mademoiselle. cornes from the Latin
word vicus. q village. So that there
old castles IN ruin In those parts
ghosts In a.rmor guarding 1t. and great
DOES that breathed flame. and other
things pleasantly horrible to the ear OF
q little boy. On the cold nights. az
the are roared up the chimney and the
grandm0thers' wheel whirred softly.
my father and the other men told these
tales; ana 4 listened. quiet as q mouse
1eaw youne man lean over and
Nhiaper In the q OF one Of the girls,
and@I wondered why her face became
r60assthe hrellght.
ssssAnd from time to time one OF the
1nSn.Sas he TALKED. rose up and strobe
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