The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1914-06-18

II
bare dinner; he smelled the soup cook
ing; he heard his mother sing as she
4 moved about; he lifted his head ana
saw her through the open window, in
q bar Of misty sunshine. The world
seemed bright; surely when there Is
sunshine aad the smell OF good eart IN
1 and the smell of good food, when Ole
mother sings-then the world Is bright
Francois fell to whistllng A Pecole du
Roi, the old chanson which his mother
sang. ,f
Into this contentment came, gallop-
ing gloriously, hoof beats Of a horse
The busy spade, several sizes too big,
stopped, and Francois leaned his chin
on the handle, the boy out Of drawing
| for the tool.
/ He stood. like a quaint little old work
man, watching TO see the general pass,
the general on that apotheosis OF horse
flesh, Lisette. But the general stopped,
which was a heavenly surprise to Fran
Il co.'s each time that IL happened
Good morning, Marshall How goes
the fighting2 The colonel, your father,
! Is In the field, Is he not? Will you ask
the lieutenant colonel, your mother, IL
may speak to herr"
And the general, flingirg titles about
him, sprang to the ground. "All mar
shais 10 stay inside" ne shouted after
the boy Council OF war excluding
field Officers above generals"
/ Mother, mother, the seigneur wish
es you, Francois whispered piercingly,
but Claire was already on the little
front walk by the new garden.
In moment she stood at the gate in
her fresh calico dress, with white
fichu over her head, and the big man
lowered and growled sentences friend
lily. Francois, obedient in the cottage,
gazed earnestly from the window out of
earshot, injurious, admiring. Long
years after he remembered the picture;
i the little boy, whose life was being
settled, gazing from the humble house
at the old soldier who opened a door for
4 that small life into large possibilities;
and the mother who loved him and saw
the first step for her boy on a lader
that mounted above her.
Then the general trotted with ling
ling stirrup down the village street and
/ Claire stood with. eyes following for a
moment. When she turned she was
smiling yet, but Frencois vaguely
wondered at the movement which
twisted her mouth for a second as she
looked at him. She put her arm around
his neck and kissed him, which was
pleasant but seemed impractical.
What did the seigneur say my
mother?'' he demanded, struggling
away. did he say might come TO the
chateau tomorrow? May i? Am I to
know what the general said, my mo-
ther?"
For he considered the seigneur his
property; he was bit injured at being
excluded from the council of war, he,
the marshal. s..
! After his father came home to din
| ner he knew. He was to go each NOR
ming to the chateau and do work in
| copying for the general. The general
was writing a book. nothing less than
a history of Napoleon himself. The
| hOU'a srraaf draa NV axya0 What
| luck to help In such a glory! How glad
he was that he wrote fastest and most
accurately of all the boys in school!
And the general was TO pay him six
francs a week-it was dazzling! That
would make the hoard mount beyond
anything he had dared to hope That
would be real help to his mother and
to his father--"Is II not, my father?"
And the father said yes. proudly.
And neither mother nor father sug
gested that there was even more to this
| great future. .a
So the little lad, in his clean, patched
peasant clothes, went up to the chateau
| the next morning serious and import
ant, and was given a table and a corr
ner in the library and words to, copy
which thrilled his soul For the very
| first was about the battle OF Auster-
litz and the sunshine and the frozen
| river; II seemed fate big enough for
any life to sit there in the quiet book
lined room and write out such things
direct from man who had seen them.
1t came to be the spring of the year,
and day after day Francois trod the
path down the village street past his
old home, which he resolutely looked
away from, and across the arch of the
old Roman bridge, From there he
glanced up always to see the first
broad view Of the red castIed roof with
the gray towers below, vague through
! the trees. There were nuts by the
thousands in the stately beech woods Of
/ the castled park, but Francois was too
busy man to stop for nuts In the
mornings. Straight on he marched to
the little side door, and there Jean
Philippe Moison, the son OF Jean Phil
lippe Moison of Delesmontes, now a
| footman at the chateau and the wearer
of very beautiful purple and gold
clothes, opened the door and let him
| in. sa .-
Day after day, week after week he
labored with all his might at the piles
of manuscript; when Ii was a question
of battle, murder and sudden death he
i was q happy boy and also he some
times made mistakes for joy of the
story; but when descriptions of the
emperor's policy came, and lists Of
provisions and such things, then, ma
/ turallys one was sat times tired. Yet
the work followed the bent Of his in
clination, for all that concerned war
and soldiers concerned this lad of IL.
World after world opened before him
j as he worked in the big room at his
table, set into the window slitted into
the deep gray wa. A bookcase stood
out at the angle there; one would hard
| ly see the still little figure, the thin
ankles twisted about the rounds of
the high chair, the slim shoulders bent
/ over the sheets of writing. Often the
/ general talked to him. t>'G
| fEh bien, there, the marshal! .woJIfd
| come laundering from the great table
across the room; and the scribe would
drop his pen and scuttle over the. din
i wide place. F@r frs@L
Yes, Monsieur the Seigneur. am
| here"
/ Listen then. my soldier. I am I'M
certain IL this that I have written is
i OF Importance. 1t is interesting to me,
] because Gaspard Gourgaud was: there,
yet do not wish to ram Gaspard
| Gourgaud down a readers throat So
listen, you marmot, as an officer of
rank, and as literary critic, and say
truthfully IL you find II interesting"
L FraF1anfS aotYotfaI ~, .fr.oI 4, a ~ -