The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1917-06-23
nd he said in a loud voice

"
Wipe your feet, take first turn to the
right
And in the rear you'll find the Judg-
ment-Hall; -
You can sit down on a bench and
wait
He goes to the Waiting-room, sits on
the bench, gives his name, numbers of
his battalion and his company. his
wounds, his whole history. to an
angel in a white shirt. But he does
not have to wait long, his name is
called and he is let
into beautiful church
Way at the end, was our Good Lord
Sitting on a sun, between
Christ and the Virgin.
THE blue garment of the Holy Vir-
gin, the red robe of the Son, and the
long white flowing beard Of God the
Father remind him of the French flag.
Around and behind the Deity are
heaps of saints mostly military
saints like ST. George, st. Michael,
st. Hubert, Charlemagne with his
long beard; others, too: st. Anthony,
who kept the little pig in his cell;
st. Labre, who never washed nor
changed his clothes; many others,
whom our poilu only knew from pic
lures, and still many others. :.
He has to give his LIES story, to con-
fess honestly without hiding anything.
All he can say is, that he was a
farmer owning two oxen, horse, a
COW, a wife, some chickens, and, with
your permission, a piggy. -.
They know me, the piggies,'
Said ST. Anthony,
| Blessings on you, brother
But our Lord he frowned
And st. Anthony became very demure.
He is then asked if he sinned often
since he became a soldier. Well, to
tell the truth-he has been drunk
once. But then Noah intercedes for
him: Not such a great sim Then
he had to go to the guard-house once,
but it was unjust, because he had only
cut piece out of his coat to mend
his pants and another time because
he had vermin, but he has an excuse:
II had so many feas,
That I could never kill them all,
I protected them also,' said the good
st. Labre.l
Whereupon the fastidious ST. Michael
in disgust pushes the unclean but
good-hearted saint back with the fiat
of his flaming sword.
But will the Good Lord also take
into consideration that the poor poilu
suffered a lot? Cold and heat,
hunger, thirst and miles and miles of
marching with sore and bleeding feet.
And once he carried a wounded com
rade for long distance:
[Altho | was all worn out myself,
And st. Simon whispered,
Like us, Master, at Golgotha.1
yes, he has sinned, but he has
atoned for it. And now he is a soul
without body and mortally pale,
bled to death through his gaping
wounds. But when he talks of his
country for which he had himself
drilled full of holes then the Highest
Judge smiles, and behind him the
skies open and reveal the angel
| hosts:
And among them with happy smiles,
Were many poifhs,
With coats Of sky blue,
That looked as if made to order,
And gold caps, they had on.
Our poilu in the crowd,
Sang with them with all his heart:
| Glory be to God in the highest!'
| While the angels in the light
Sang in answer from all sides:
| Peace on earth for all men of good.
will
"This ends the Passion Play OF
| Notre-F rere-le-Poil in simple relig
ious conviction. The plain language
l-of the farmer-soldier, his clear, child
like vision of Heaven and the Su
preme Justice remind one of the
naive mystery-plays Of the Middle
Ages"