New-York tribune., 1918-06-23

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q single thought and that thought was
to give the lost sailor of Uncle Sam
the best funeral that was ever held
within all the six miles of the sandy
and rocky shore line.
Nine. Esperance Aubert, whose story
OF sacrifice ought to be known to all
Americans, was the leading spirit
His Was a French
Naval Uniform
Before the war Nine. Aubert was
the proud mother Of happy home at
the Chalet St. Michel, Moines.
Two little daughters and a loving,
sober, hard working husband in a
pretty cottage by the sea, was Nine.
Aubert's lot. The same German acci-
dent of war that caused a dead Ameri-
can sailor to be cast up on Ile-aux-
Moines deprived Mme Aubert of her
husband last September. His was the
French naval uniform. And the waves
did not bring him home.
Nine. Aubert's struggle to keep the
two growing orphans in food and
clothing to-day cannot compare with
the anguish in her heart months ago
when she gave up hope and realized
that Jean Aubert had gone to his
watery grave without prayers and
without semblance of religious cere-
mony, which is so all important in
death to these Breton peasant folk.
So Nine. Aubert was the leading spirit
when it came to the last rites over the
body of an unknown American, and
that unknown literally took the place
of Jean Aubert.
The Aubert cottage is rented for the
summer by an American family. There
are four Americans or the island. Two
are young wives of Americans who
have business at war, and the other
two are little American infants who
know nothing of war. Nine. Aubert
and the little orphans live next door
in the remodelled stable while the cot
! tage earns enough during the summer
to keep them partly around the year.
Immortal Wreath
For Unknown Dead
The rented cottage yard is a maze
Of beautiful flowers, typical of the
little island paradise which gets its
! warmth from the Gulf Stream a month
ahead of the mainland. So with the
willing consent and aid Of a young
American wife poor Nine. Aubert cut
and wove hundreds of gorgeous pink
peonies, red roses and green ferns
into beautiful wreath for the un-
known American sailor.
Then Nine. Aubert found an Amerl-
can flag. 1t was small and not of
silk, but nevertheless the Stars and
Stripes. With it she brought two
tricolors, which otherwise might
have draped the bier of Jean Aubert.
In the meantime other islanders had
done their part. The islands only
vehicle-a heavy wagon drawn by two
white oxen-was requisitioned. The
priest, who lives in the tall spired
little church, was notified to bring
along all Of his best prayers, and some
one with special knack for carpen-
try built a masterpiece coffin. The
flag on the squatty custom house was
drawn to half mast and all the fishing
boats in the harbor were dressed with
their flags in the same position.
At s o'clock all was ready. The priest
had just finished the fete day Of the
communion of the young in the
church. And as the church doors
closed young and old marched to the
Bois d'Amour, the most picturesque Of
all points on the island. In shady
glen, among the palm-like pine trees,
where the islands nose meets the sea
with rocky lodges, lay the coffin. Over
it were carefully draped the starry
banner and two tricolors of France.
At the head rested the immense
wreath shaped by Nine. Aubert and
the young American wife.
A Fisherman
Whitfield a Cross
All the eight hundred-odd islanders
were there-the men in their wide
fete day hats and neat jackets and
the women in their best white lace
headdresses and full skirted black
costumes. Hardly one had failed to
bring a bouquet. One hardy old fish
erman brought cross which he had
whitfield and shaped with jaekknife.
With him it was one sailors tribute
to another.
One by one and in groups all the
eight hundred paid homage IN prayer
for the dead. Some advanced to the
edge Of the coffin and others knels
where they stood. Then the priest
black robed, and carrying the tiny
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