Daily capital journal. (Salem, Oregon) 1903-1919, 1918-05-18
The LITTLE HOUSE
AT THE CORNER
RALPH HENRY BARBOUR.
OF the ViqlIantes.

yawned, stretched, and, leaning back.
looked from his window. The Head.
quarters, a temporary wooden struc-
ture with a taxpayer roof, had been
knocked together in the shadow Of the
%half-ruined church, and from the win
dow, just above the street level, the
Director could look almost the entire
length Of the little village. They had
been rebuilding it, that village, and
now the work was almost done. In 1914
the Germans had shelled it and burned
1t, and then, passing over, had left 1t
empty and silent for two years But
recently, in the early Autumn, the tide
had turned and the ~retreating gray
hordes had passed back the way they
had gone, destroying and defling.
Now the oar of their guns was soft
ened by distance and a miracle had
taken place in the village.
Village Rebuilt in a Month.
In a short month, houses-unloyely,
if you like, but warm and comfortable
and weather-tight-had replaced the
sorry heaps of stone and plaster and
splintered beams. In some cases the
original walls had been repaired and
rooted over, in others small, neat wood
en- structures had entirely replaced the
former dwellings. Shell holes had
been filled in and b~lackened tree
stumps removed. In another week
the battered church would alone tell
of the havoc Of war. There were
many such miracles being performed
at that minute all up and Gown
the narrow strip of France regained.
An assistant thrust his head in,
1.-THE Mayor and the priest to see you"
he whispered. Il told them you wers
busy"
ASK them to ONE in, please"
They entered. The MARIE was an
elderly giant of a man, dark-yisaged,
~gruff-voiced, before the war the VIII
lage blacksmith. The priest was small
and slight, with a parchment like pal-
lor in his sadly kind face, and he held
something half hidden under the folds
of his rusty soutane.
"M'sieur will be leaving us soon?"
Eyes, Father, the work is about Tin
ished. I go the day after tomorrow.
The others remain a while longer"
ut is sad news said Father Jean,
and the MARIE nodded gloomily behind
the smoke of his cigarette. But we
could not expect m'sieur to remain
with us always. Others demand his
services beyond doubt. But we shall
be very sad. M'sieur has been SO
greatly our friend, has done so much,
performed so many wonders in our
poor village" The priest blew his
vigorously.
You W me no thanks, FatheSt
those who aid me, nor the Society
l represent. What we do is done In
the name of Humanity"
""Tis WELL" growled the malr&.
Thanks are difficult to expresS
m'sieur.'
The Favor the Priest Asked.
"We have much gratitude but few
words in which to clothe It," sighed
Father Jean. "And it Is because We
OF this little village cannot say to
what is in our hearts that
friend Bonot and l have come, repre-
the citizens TO whom m'sieur
has restored homes and food, com
fort and courage, to beg a favor"
"A favor? Have the goodness to
it, Father"
"M'sieur knows the little place at
the end of the village, where the well
stood before-before-"
"Place?" The Director shook his
mead, smiling, puzzled. II did not
know there was a place, Father"
"M'sieur would doubtless. not notice
It. 1t is but tiny. Besides, we have
neyer called 1t so. There was no need.
BUT now, with m'sieurs permission,
would give it a name" The priest
slowly withdrew from beneath his SOU
-ane what had been In hiding there.
There is so little we Of the village
can do in return" he murmured, but
I m'sieur permits we shall place this
IN the corner of Pierre Martins house,
Where for all time 1t shall remain as q
oxen of u gratitude. If m'sleur per-
he added apologetically.
He held forth with hesitation a
of board newly painted.
Against a white ground had been
wrought, first, a red cross, then words
n oddly formed black letters, then q
ed heart. The Director read the In
'eription. Then he opened his mouth,
md closed II. Finally he, too, blew
his nose
All of which explains why, should
'ou ever happen on that little village
When the war is over, you viii doubt
ess observe, facing a square no larger
han a kitchen garden, a quaint sign
'earlng, between a red cross and a red
leart, the announcement:
PLACE De LA
cRoIx-RoueE AMERlcAINE