Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1918-08-14
carrying On
in France
By 1T. CURTIS WFIRRL RR
% Tie YfGaontes

By 1T. CURTIS WHEELER
% The Nfsaasses
(These two pictures Of French life
are given In a recent letter from
France by the author of ':Letters from
an American Soldier to His Father.")
Before I turn over for good this
one Of many other pages, I must draw
for you two little pictures.
The first saw one sunny afternoon
when the shadows were beginning to
lengthen out. Three of us, Americans
all, were walking down country road
that bordered a rolling field. In the
distance. at the end Of one long
straight black furrow, figure was
toiling at q two-horse pillow. Az It
turned and started back, after consid-
cradle confusion, we could make out
two horses, steady old white one,
and frisky bay. The old white horse
plodded steadily along in the furrow
just made, using what little strength
he had as cleverly as an aged express
man. But the bay, being little more
than a colt, bounded up into draught
and back again, to left and right, like
a green wheelhorse on q caisson. AS
the team came closer, we looked with
amazement at the figure guiding it. It
was boy of ten.
The French two-horse plow Is hung
different from ours, and does not re-
quire as much weight on the handles;
but even SO, he had practically to ride
it all the way. It was plain that guild
ing it when it threatened to twist OF
or up required every ounce Of strength
the kiddy had. Yet each moment he
applied it at just the right moment
and just the right place, SO the furrow
remained deep and true.
As the team came just below us in
the field and started to turn for the
next furrow, something went wrong.
The boy was busy swinging his plow
around and didn't see it in time. When
he looked at the horses they were all
tangled up. the bay lunging desperate
ly into her old team-mate. He had
only a single rein to the nigh horse
and on this he yanked and shrilled at
them valiantly enough. They quieted
obediently at the sound Of his voice,
but seemed unable to move. He
dashed forward cracking his whip, but
nothing happened.
Never Felt So Ashamed.
Then I saw where the bay had her
of hind snarled up I'm the trace, and
hoped of down the road. It was
only a seconds work to lift her foot
out and straighten the trace. As I
stood up the youngster came to me,
thanked me, and looked at me squarely
with his clear blue eyes. have never
felt SO ashamed in all my life.
There he stood, the sweat of long
days work beaded on his brow, in
ridiculous big looped-up trousers and
huge wooden shoes-his fathers. And
there we stood, three great hulking,
broad-shouldered figures against the
sun, who had done no mans work all
that day. There might be other days,
to be sure, but this day was gone, and
here was this boy, blowing for France.
There was an awkward silence and
one Of the men, moved curiously by I
know not what, offered the youngster
package Of cigarettes. He smiled
and shook his head, saying, obviously
enough, me fume pas" "For your fa-
ther," insisted the man, and I wished
the words unsaid; cor your brother"
The boy said nothing for minute, his
eyes clouding little. and in the inter-
val he had grown much larger than
we. We stood before him like truants.
Finally he took the cigarettes, wadded
them down into his bagging trousers,
chirruped cheerfully enough to his
team, and plodded sturdily on across
the field. Behind US, on the hilltop,
three crosses stood black against the
sun.
The second picture saw but two
days before I left, as I was walking up
the hill to dinner. The sun had set
as left the village and the frogs in
the pond below the horse trough,
where the ducks quacked and dabbled
in the mud all day, were beginning to
sing their evening song. Suddenly ]
heard the pitter-patter of many feet.
The road ahead was packed as far as
the next turn with sheep. On they
came, butting each other from side to
side and occasionally baaing queru-
lously. Their even, gray-white backs
seemed to pave the road evenly from
side to side, until you began to see.
darling back and forth, scores Of little
lambs. 49,. = -
As watched, two mongrel dogs
guardians OF the flock, came bounding
silently along one side. A lamb had
strayed up on the bank there aud they
pounced upon It to turn It back. But
one Of them bit too deep, and not even
pure sheep-dogs are always proof
against blood. I saw what would hap
pen In a minute and leaped on the
bank. At my approach. the dogs
skulked of like q military policeman.
discovered In = cafe after closing
hours The lamb lay moti onless, blood
running from It's nose. 81 D 81
Tho Mothers of Frames
M = cahed the universal French appeal
s1oE so1 .snyos. ~ =. 81