Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1915-04-09
Copyright, The Frank A. Munsey Coz

AS the sun came up over Paris, one
of the first things to emerge from the
blue-gray mist was the gilded dome
of the Hotel des Invalides. Not even
the sky-kissing uplift of the Eiffel
tower, which had been exchanging
news and views all night long between
the armies of the east and west, by
wireless, like some supernatural inter
prefer; not even the white basilica on
top of the Butte Montmartre, nor the
towers of Notre Dame, were visible for
a good ten minutes afterward.
And, in the meantime, the dome be-
came a sort of counterpart of the sun
itself-shimmering golden, afioat in
the opaque air. 1t hung like an au-
reole of glory over the great man
whose tomb was there-Napoleon-his
last wish fulfilled.
81 desire that my ashes may rest
on the banks of the Seine, in the midst
of this French people l so greatly
loved"
Then, as the sun mounted still
higher, the rest of the Hotel des In
valides came into view great mass
of buildings as blue-gray as the dawn
had been. After while, when the
place was flooded with genial light and
warmth, out came the invalids them
selves-the veterans who made this
combination of barracks, museum,
church and tomb their home.
30 Tnrnnro1 Dir
tou, who lost part of one leg and all
of one arm at Solferino, in 1859, yet
was still the fine, military semblance
of a man-pink face, choleric eye,
white mustache waxed and white i'm
perial trimmed, the breast of his long,
blue coat adorned with half a dozen
medals.
A second or two afterward came
Marine Frenzy, famous beau in his
day, but now slow of foot, much
stopped, and very deaf, never quite re-
covered from the wound in his head
received in Tongking in 1862.
They sat down side by side on the
bench that ran along the sun-warmed
wall, and the corporal glared at the
marine. The latter put up his ear
trumpet, and the corporal roared into
it:
"The Prussians still advance"
The marine looked dreamily into
space and whispered
I'VE lack Napoleon"
Trumpeter Martin had come out
truculent, spry, and barely eighty
walking on two wooden pegs, neatly
turned and painted black. In response
to the corporaps words he ripped out
an oath and shook his cane in the air.
"The army's led by lot of unlocked
cubs" he declared. There's Joffre,
for example"
Other comrades joined the group
Quartermaster Sandeau, decorated on
the field of battle at Montebello; Ser
geants Motto and Latude, inseparable
now as they were in the Crimea; Far
Tier Saint-Lambert, who helped put
down the Kabyles of North Africa in
1858.
A desperate group they were, too.
In a measure, they felt themselves al
most the last hope of France.
Something had to be done.
Wen form a brigade" said Far
Yier Saint-Lambert, "and-name of a
cannon-if they do come into Paris,
we'll drown ourselves in their blood!"
Last night" quavered Quartermas-
ter Sandeau. 81 slept with this under
my pillow" He drew from under his
coat an enormous horse-pistol of an
tique pattern. 1T kept me from sleep
ing, it hurt my ear, but by the"
Sergeants Motto and Latude ex-
changed look of mutual understand
ing, and the former unbuttoned his
coat, his comrade aiding him.
Look" painted Motto.
He held his coat open with arms
that trembled from age and rheuma-
tism. The group stared in amazement.
some of them saluting, others uncov-
ering their bald or frosty heads.
Around the breast of the sergeant,
where it had been concealed, was a
faded flag, thin and torn.
A dozen voices whispered:
"The colors of the emperor"
"We took it yesterday" said Ser
geant Latude in stified tones, as he
stood at the side of his friend with
that mingled air of reverence and per-
sonal pride with which a sacristan ex-
hibits the bones of saint. "The COM
mandant was having the battleflags of
the nations taken down, in there, so
that they could not fall into the hands
of the enemy should he enter Paris,
as he did in 1870. Motto and |. watch
ing our chance, took this-his flag
our flag--the flag that f1oated over his
sacred tent-the flag of Napoleonl"
Latude began to choke, with emo
ton, or age, or both.
While this was going on, two other
comrades had arrived-a strange pair,
strangely linked-one of them pushing
the other in an invalid-chair. They
were the two extremes-the oldest and
the youngest of that little band of vet