The Washington times., 1931-11-27
THE ROAD BACK =
A Story Of the Aftermath
Or the World War

There is a law Of the years.
Dammholt, With his sharp eyes,
would cold.bloodedly turn any
such camaraderie to his own ad-
vantage. He might show even
a certain affection: yet that
would not prevent him looking
to his own interest. Education
alists who think they can un-
derstand the young are enthusi-
astS. Youth does not want to
be understood; it wants only to
be let alone. 1t preserves itself
immune against the insidiouS
bacillus Of being Understood.
The grown-up who would ap-
proach it too approximately is
as ridiculous in its eyes as If
he had put on children's
clothes. We may feel with
youth, but youth does not feel
with us. That is its saliva
ton.
The bell rings. The interval
is over. Reluctantly Dammholt
falls into the line before the
door.
The Dog Fight
stroll out through the vii
lage on my way to the moors.
Wolf is running ahead Of me.
A bulldog suddenly rushes out
from a neighboring farmyard
and goes for him. Wolf has
seen it, so that in the first
onset the dog manages to get
him down. The next instant
all is lost in wild melee of
dust, thrashing bodies and fear
some growls.
The farmer, armed with a
cudgel, comes running out of
the house. For heavens sake,
teacher" ne shouts out of the
distance. call your dog off!
Pluto will tear him to pieces"
I take no notice. pluto!
Pluto! You butcher. Come
here!" he yells excitedly and
daShes up, all out Of breath,
to beat them apart. But the
whirlwind now sweeps off with
wild yelpings tor another hun.
dreds yards and there the coil
begins again.
Hes lost" gasps the farmer,
lowering his cudgel. But I
tell you right now, I don't pay
a farthing. You ought to have
called him off"
who is lost?" ask.
Your dog" returns the
farmer respectfully. THAT rap
Scallion Of bulldog has already
made cold meat of a dozen of
them now."
We'll, I don't think we need
worry about Wolf" say.
That's no ordinary sheep dog,
I tell you. old-timer. He's a
war dog and old soldier, you
know"
The bulldog howls like mad
and throws itself on the ground
to get him that way. But,
quick as lightning, with a sud
den jerk, Wolf lets go and takes
his chance to 60 for its throat.
Now I hear him growl for the
first time, Suffled and danger.
Gus. Now he has his opponent,
and holds fast. indifferent to
the way the bulldog struggles
and rolls about on the ground.
For heavens sake. teacher"
shouts the farmer. "call your
dog off! He will tear Pluto to
pieces!"
II might call him till the
cows came home, but he
wouldn't listen now," I tell him.
And a good thing. too! It's
high time your bloody Pluto was
shown something"
The bulldog yelps and howls.
The farmer raises his cudgel
to go to his help. 1 wrench
the thing from him, seize
him by the front of his jacket.
and shout angrily: What the
devil! Your mongrel started
it," 1t would not need much
and should be going for the
farmer myself.
But see from where stand
that Wolf has suddenly let go
the bulldog and is rushing to-
ward us, imagining that I am
being attacked. So am luckily
able to intercept him, other.
wise the farmer would soon
be needing a new coat, to say
the least Of it.
Pluto, in the meantime. has
made off. I pat Wolf on the
neck and soothe him down.
He's a devil, no mistake!"
stamIners the farmer, quite
crestfallen.
You're right he is," 1 say
with pride; that's the old
soldier in him. It doesn't do
to make trouble with that
breed"
(TO Be COntinued)
Copyright Erich Maria Rem arque,
= f-.I