Evening star., 1935-11-10
76e true story 9 Bia~ Child uh0 searched the ruins Of A home
after Me World War-aud the "treasuve' that he found
by KATHARINE ROBERTS


Some of the stone foundation still remained
Sunlight on broken stone, the tang of Autumn in
the air i all came flooding back from ten -
twelve - no, could it have been sixteen years
ago? Yes - sixteen years.
battle-smashed village in Belgium And
Jacques, whose last name was Defrere There
among the ruins he was digging He was very
small Belgian child with round blue eyes and
an impish face too thin and white He paused
and regarded me curiously as stepped over the
crumblng remainder of what once had been the
wall of house. The door frame still stood, no
door within it, no walls around it, but tackled to
it an ambitious sign that read. Cafe"
For what are you digeing?" l asked him.
After some thought, he decided to trust me.
Treasures" he answered. You find them lots
of times-all sorts of things It's fun to dig. He
took up his converted pick, a sharpened piece of
iron with cross-bar near the top. II found this
over there where there used to be cemetery"
Where do you live?" inquired.
He waved free hand vaguely. "Here. If you
want to see my grandmother, she's in there"
and he pointed toward one-room shack that
leaned against the back wall where the kitchen
once had stood and chimney had held firm. He
began to dig again. Apparently our interview
was closed
found path through the fallen masonry,
past space where weeds grew over the debris
of parlor. To my knock at the halfopen door,
CHEEKY voice called, "Entrez!' and as obeyed,
saw an incredibly old woman, her face lined
with the centuries of the last five years. She sat
knitting in low straight chair. Carefully she
pushed the yarn to the back of her needles.
'You look for my cafe - yes?" Her eyes, blue
like those of the little boy, twinkled. There it
is" She motioned to red-and-whte cloth
covered table by the window BE comfortable"
She rose with the strength of dignity rather
than of body. When she had brought me coffee,
cheese and good black bread, she resumed her
knitting.
Jacques and have come back to rebuild
she said. Once again, We will have home where
our home was before"
Finally | ventWed tentative question or
two. Like her grandson, she waited time to
make up her mind about the stranger. After
while she told me-
Looking out Of the window, saw little yellow
haired Jacques in the sunlight playing against
the background of her story She spoke so simply
that, almost before one realized, the picture was
complete the story done.
Five years ago the town had been attacked.
little disc that spread into liquid fire had rolled
across the main floor of the home where she and
Jacques and his mother and father, Elise and
Pierre, had lived contentedly Jacques was not
quite two years old then. Elise was to give him
small brother or sister soon, and Pierre had
come on twenty -four hour leave from the en-
campment not far away. At the swift approach
of the enemy, Pierre and Elise had rushed up
stairs to gather few things to take with them
in retreat before Pierre would hurry back to his
regiment Old Madame Defrere and Jacques hid
in the cellar. When the fire came, she ran with
the little boy into the yard, thinking the Others
would follow But upstairs they we're trapped.
Suddenly Pierre and Elise appeared on the
balcony outside their room and, through the
door the grandmother could see the flames
leaping behind them. Down there in the yard,
Jacques clung to her and cried for his mother.
Pierre called that they were going to Jump. 1t
was their only chance. He picked up Elise to
lower her over the railing, to hold her by the
hands so that she would not have so far to drop.
For an instant the grandmother closed her
eyes, Then she opened them. Pierre still stood
on the balcony with Elise in his arms. She had
faiptod He cfood fhnro y,1oticp1acc the flames