Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1917-01-25

WAN" vi LIZ " JILL
after this carnage to mold a nation
from what remains to them, mon
sieur," I had said to him as I looked
straight into his face. SIS not the
courage of women a war supply upon
which to rely?"
what are the young women-such
women as she-going to do in the years
that come after the deluge, Henri of
American" he had made a muttering
question to my father as his old eyes
smoldered over me in the freight.
From the memory Of the smoking
room at the Chateau de Gree my mind
suddenly returned to the rail of the
ship and the Frenchman beside me,
who was looking into my face with
the same kindly question as to my flu
ture that had been in the eyes of my
OLD godfather and which had stirred
my fathers heart to it's American
depths and made him send me back
to his w country.
"Ah, yes, that courage is a good
weapon with which to adventure in
this America Of the grizzled bear,
mademoiselle," l found the strange
man saying to me, with Il nice amuse-
ment as well as interest.
My father had shot seven grizzlies
before his t~wenty-first birthday. We
have the skins, four of them, in the
great hall of the Chateau de Grez-or
Or we did have them before-be-
fore My voice faltered, and l could
not continue speaking for the tears
that rose in my throat and eyes.
Quickly the man at INV side turned
his broad shoulders that he should
shield me from the laughing and on
claiming groups of people upon the
deck near us.
Before ipres. mademoiselle?' he
asked, with tears also in the depths OF
his voice.
Yes" l answered. And | am now
going into the great America with my
crippled brother and his n~ursc-alone.
1t is the land Of my father. and | have
his courage. | must have also that Of
a frcnchWonlan. | have it. monsieur"
II as | spoke | drew myself to my
full. round shou!dcrel height, which
was almost equal to that OF the man
beside me.
"Mademoisclle. | salute the courage
born of an American who fought be.
fore the guns Of the Marine and of a
trenchWoman who sent him there!."
And as he spoke thus he removed from
his head his silk deck cap and held it
at his shoulder in a way that l knew
was q salute from a French officer to
the memory Of u brother. "And also
may | be permitted to present myself,
as it is a sad necessity that you travel
without one from whom I might re.
quest the introduction?" he asked Of
me with q beautiful reference.
After a search in his pocket for q
few seconds. he at last discovered a
case of leather and presented to me a
card. AS he handed it to me his color
rose up under his black eyes, and grave
trouble looked from between their long
black lashes. l glanced down at the
card and read: "Capitaine lie Count
= w do'n ltCS. l. ullS, ltllNC.
Forty-fourth ChaSSeurs de lie Repub-
lique Francaise." ....
IN. lie Count. | know-I know why
it is that you go to America" l mad.
exclamation as clasped to my breast
my hands. and my eyes shone with ex-
element, Il have read it in LIE Matin
just the day before yesterday. You go
to buy grain against the winter Of
starvation in the republique. No man
Is so great a f%inancier as you and so
brave a soldier. with your wound not
healed from the trenches in the Vosges.
Monsieur, l salute you." And l bent
my head and held out my hand to him.
We're to expect nimble wits as well
as courage Of you ~young-shall l say
American women?" he laughed as he
bent over my hand. "Now shall 1 not
be led for Introduction to the small
brother and the old nurse" he asked,
with much friendly interest in his kind
eyes.
1t was a very wonderful thing to OBJ
serve the wee Pierre listen to the mar
ration Of capitaine, the Count de Las
selles, concerning the actions of a small
boy who had run out of a night Of
shot and shell into the heart of his
regiment and who had now lived five
months in the trenches with them.
Pierre's small face is all Of France,
and in his heart under his bent chest
burns a soul all Of France. 1t is as if
in her death, at his birth, my beauti-
full mother had stamped her race upon
him with the greater emphasis.
SIS it that the small CASTOR is a
daredevil like is my Bob?" he ques-
toned as we all made a laughter at
the story of the Count de Lasselles
concerning the sortie Of the small idol
from the trenches in the dead of one
peaceful night to return with a very
wide thick flannel shirt of one Of the
enemy. which he had caught hanging
upon a temporary laundry line back
of the German trenches.
And your medal Of honor, M. Capt.
II ~