Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1917-07-19

Before Ypres, mademoiselle? ?"
he asked, with tears also in the depth
of his voice.
Yes" I answered. And am now
going into the great America with
my crippled brother and his nurse
alone. 1t is the land of my father,
and I have his courage. must have
also that of a Frerchwoman. have
it, monsieur" And as spoke drew
myself to my full, round shouldered
height, which was almost equal to
that of the man beside me.
''Mademoiselle, 1 salute the cour-
age born of an American who fought
before the guns of the Marne and
of a Frenchwoman who sent him
there" And as he spoke thus he re-
moved from his head his silk deck
cap and held 1t at his shoulder in a
way that l knew was a salute from
a French officer to the memory of
a brother. And also may l be per-
mitted to present myself, as it is
sad necessity that you travel without
one from whom l might request the
introduction" he asked of me with
beautiful reverence.
After a search in his pockets for
a few seconds, he at last discovered
a case of leather and presented to
me a card. AS he handed it to me his
solor rose up under his black eyes,
and grave trouble looked from be-
tween their long black lashes.
glanced down at the card and read:
"Capitaine lie Count Almond de Las
selles, Paris. France. Forty-fourth
Chasseurs de lie Republique Fran
, caise."
m. lie Count, know know why
it is that you go to America!" made
exclamation as claSped to my
breast my hands, and my eyes shone
with excitement. II have read it in
LIE Matin just the day before yes
terday. You go to buy grain against
the winter of starvation in the re-
publique. No man is so great
financier as you and so brave a SOL
dier, with your wound not healed
from the trenches in the Vosges.
Monsieur, 1 salute you!" And 1 bent
my head and held out my hand to
him.
We're to expect nimble wits as
we'll as courage of you young-shall
l say American women" he laugh
ed as he bent over my hand. Now
shall l not be led for introduction
to the small brother and the old
nurse?" he asked, with much friend
ly interest in his kind eyes.
1t was a very wonderful thing to
observe the wee Pierre listen to the
narration of capitaine, the Count de
Lasselles, concerning the actions of
a small boy who had run out of
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 beautiful mother had stamped
her race upon him with the greater
emphasis.
rs it that the small CASTOR is
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 q temporary
laundry line back of the German
trenches.
And your medal of honor, NJ.
Capitaine? Is 1t permitted that 1 lay
for a little moment just one finger
upon it?" Pierre asked of him as the
great soldier stood tall above the
steamer chair.
Ito Be Continued)