The Tomahawk., 1917-02-22


is subject to wife. All the week the
farmer talked to his horse and tried
to turn Il deaf ear to his wife; on
Sundays he acted as the cures right
hand man in church and found con-
ISOLATION for many things in the lm-
pOrtunce Of his office. But since the
war, Il common anxiety has drawn the
farmer and his wife closer together
Their only son is in the trenches and
his letters are his parents daily
solance. Every night the farmer reads
the last one aloud to his wife, who, on
Il chair Ovcrrun by her ample proper
tons, listens with fearful eyes, while
near her hangs the little farm servant,
Il girl of fourteen, soft-eycd and slen-
der, with Old-fashioncd turns Of speech
gathered from her elders, and seven
brothers called to the colOrs.
Memories of the Aged
Every household has its load OF
sorrow and anxiety, lig!itcned or
dulIed by the daily routine of hard
work which life demands from those
who have not been called on to fight.
Inc CIllINTtIl uIA DcluS clotHCu tiH'
fed and educated as in normal times;
the old men and women have grown
retrospective and talk often Of Fannce
terrible, 4G years ago, when they had
the Germans in the village. Ten or
them were billctcd with the old wood
mans wife. She made bread for them
and they said it was the best they
had ever eaten. The memory of it
makes the old woman chuckle, but her
daughtcr-in-lnw, whose home is in the
invaded districts, grnds her teeth and
declares that no power on earth would
persuade her to make bread for the
Germans.
The hero Of the village is the last
man home on leave, and the hand or
the White House president IS not more
ardcntly asked for on his accession to
office than is that Of the "pcrmission-
airc'' when he returns to his native
village. His stained tunic, his medals,
the trench trophies he brings, and his
personal opinion as to when the war
is going to end, are all of thrilling III
tcrcst to the village people, and his
way down the village street Is slow,
triumphant parade. His family wear
his reflected glory with more obvious
pride than he himself wears the orig
innl thing, for he is modest man.
They are all people of humble sta
ton in this particular village, with
MARIE chosen from their midst, a
schoOlmaster of strong republican
sentiments, and cure who is satisfied
to do that which his hand findeth to do
and leave the rest with higher pow
crs. There is no hospital for wound
ed, no relief work Of any kind, and an
extraordinary alOOfness from the rest
lcSsncss Of war marks the entire neigh
bOrhOOd. Yet war means to each one
of these village people q personal
sacrifice. Beyond that it does not
mean very much. The enemy, the al
lies, the refugees, are the things they
read about in the daily paper when
they read Mt all. Life to them is al
ways labOriOus, for they work to save.
not to spend, and the "stOcking" Is
only emptied in the national cause
when the call is for a loan.
To "keep things going" is French
characteristic Of great value, espe-
cially among the people" and their
practical common sense keeps them
from worrying about the far horizons
Their resourcefulness under difficult
conditions is beyond all praise. Moth
ing is wasted, and substitutes for al
most everything seem to be forthcom-
ing. Oxen and mules are used on the
land where horses are not to be had,
homemade tools, homemade clothes,
homemade food and homemade medi-
cines help to save a penny here,
penny there. Sometimes the work may
suffer from their primitive way of
dealing with it, and if wider, more up
to-date efforts were made the results
would probably be more satisfactory
economically.