Montpelier examiner. [volume] (Montpelier, Idaho) 1895-1937, 1915-04-16
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Copyright, The Franlx'A. Munsey COD
Kathryn JarbOe

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Copyright, The Frank "A. Munsey Coz
Under the yellow August sunlight
the fields lay deserted; here a scythe
leaning against half-completed stack.
there sickle rusttng ON the stubble.
The twilight fell upon deserted
hearths where women, with trembling
fingers, cooked their scanty meals.
The round, full moon looked down
upon scattered homes where only the
children slept, where the women wept
and shuddered and waited.
For the men had marched away UNI
der the brilliant, Haunting colors.
None had been too old to go, none
too young. Their lips had shouted the
raucous notes, the valiant words
Honneur, Patrie, Gloire-but every
eye was wet. every heart heavy with
despair and terror.
Bib had watched them go, the tiny
STAFF in his clenched fingers beating
time to the brave music, to the hur-
rying feet, but, in the nameless ter
ror that had descended upon the land,
he chung to the old grandmother's
hand and, when all were gone-fa-
Their, uncle, brother-he flung himself
sobbing upon the ground. The WON
an, left alone in the world save for
the small grandchild, watched with
eyes too old for tears until there was
no longer even a cloud OF dust upon
the horizon; then she turned and hob
bled into the empty house, leaving
the child still lying there upon the
lonely road.
Before the hearth she sat, seeing
the long procession OF all the others
who, under that same tricolor, had
marched out, away from her life
never to return. Hours later, when
Bib came in, his little tragedy all for.
gotten, his face rejecting only the
golden glory of the summer day. he
found her sitting there, dry-eyed, heI
shriveled lips muttering prayers for
those already dead, for those about to
die. Into her shaking hands he thrust
his offering-a nosegay of bluets, the
color of the sky, of field-poppies, q
flame of red. and MULLEN, white with
| the dust of the road-the trico1or that
had taken from them grandfather
father. husband and sons.
A choking sob slipped across hel
lips and she flung the flowers from hel
on to the hearth, where the red petals
| of the peoples lay in mimicry OF the
fire that might never again blaze
| thereon.
Days passed; only a few-Bib
/ could not count them, Mere Craquette
would not. The heavy-headed blades
of grain lay prone upon the ground
ungarnered by the hands that were tor
tiny, the hands that we're too old
| There were others, OF course, In thai
deserted land, as lonely as these two
but there were no other quite SC
eighty-six. Indoors, the woman could
only sit and pray. Out of doors, the
child played with his flowers-bluets
bits of the sky, peoples, red as blood
and mullen, dried and CHASTITY white
The short-lived peoples dropped ant
fell to the earth, the MULLEN erumbleC
to dust, only the bluets were left
And then there dawned the day o.
horror. For hours of light and dark
ness the roar of cannon had filled the
universe. for hours of light and dark
ness the grandmother had knelt quiv
ering and trembling before the cruel
tx. At daybreak the low horizon
stretched-a long line of fire anC
smoke; flames licking up the parcheC
fields with the novels that stood IL
their midst, black smoke creeping lik,
pail across the sky.
In the gray light before the sun hat
risen Mere Graquette stood in thu
doorway and watched the oncomin,
devastation, a foeman that feet, how
ever young and agile. might not out
distance, that no human hand Nigh
stay. Clutching Bib by the wrist, sht
re-entered the house and closed tn,
door Better to die crouched befor,
the cross. with suppliant hands upol
its succoring feet, than to be eaugh
creeping and crawling through tn
fields of matted grain.
For little time Bib lay quiet Ii
her arms, listening to the ever-in
creasing roar. watching the light tina
even now was redder than any ray
Of sunlight that had ever flooded TIL
windows of his home. Soon. though
he grew restless and slipped ava,
from the feeble hands that, with tn
passing of all things earthly. had a
most forgotten to hold him. Out O
doors the horizon was still only lin
of red and black, and Bib could nc
know that it was q score of mile
nearer to his home than it had bee
short hour before. Here and Their
J above the broken grain there wave
|, tiny flag Of blue, Upon his baby Liz