* * *
I passed over a great distance in a very few minutes. What could the French army do against so many men and cannon? Most of our higher officers had disappeared. Our clothes were covered with mud and dust, our faces were blackened by the powder; nevertheless the order came again: "You must charge once more!" "I have already lost half of my men," was the answer. No matter! We must begin over again; the ground shakes under us as we advance.
* * *
The shock is terrible. An officer fires straight at me, but I cut off his arm. I see the swords gleam all about me; three troopers come to my rescue. "Come, captain," they say, "the battle is lost. We are ordered to sound the retreat." Several officers of the general's staff repeat the command, and the day is lost.
LE MAUVAIS ZOUAVE.
THE blacksmith usually put out his fire as soon as the sun set. He liked to sit before his door and see his apprentices go by, and thus rest himself after the burden of the day. But this day he came home directly and sat down at table. He was evidently in a very bad humor; his wife looked at him without daring to ask him anything. She had a nice supper on the white tablecloth; a good salad and some cream radishes. The blacksmith had no appetite, and at last he burst out: "Oh! what rascals they are, those young French soldiers whom I have seen with the Prussians this morning; they are not true Frenchmen, otherwise they would not have left their regiment and chosen to be Prussians. It is entirely their fault, and I don't believe that they are at all homesick; I can't understand why they come back. They must be cowards; I hope that our son will not be capable of such an infamy, for if it were true, I should rather kill him with my sword. But what's the good of getting excited? Our boy was in the war against the Germans." With that he began to laugh, and this idea put him in good humor again. He dined merrily, and then went to the tavern to pass a couple of hours. His wife remained alone. She took up her work and began to mend the stockings, after putting the little children to bed. She thought of her son, who, before being a soldier, used to water the garden and care for the house. Suddenly the gate of the garden opened; as the dogs had not barked, she was sure that it was no robber who glided along the wall as though he was afraid of being seen. Yes! It was her boy who stood before her with a sunburned complexion. He had come back to his native village, deserting his post in the French army. She had not the courage to scold him, because he told her that the discipline was so hard, and he was always hungry and thirsty. Suddenly they heard some one walking in the garden, and the boy had only the time to hide behind the stove when his father entered. The old man saw the military cap on the table; he understood in a minute that his son was there. Furious, he ran for his sword and rushed toward the stove where the boy was hidden. The mother cried out: "Don't kill him! It is my fault, because I told him to come back." The blacksmith stopped, and then said: "Well, to-morrow we shall see what to do. Go to bed now." All night the mother remained near the bed of her child, because she was afraid of the father. The old man did not go to bed all night long; he walked up and down in the garden, thinking of what he was to do. The next morning he appeared before his wife and child, clad as if for travelling, with a large hat and a stout, iron-bound stick. "Come, get up," said he to his son. "Give me your uniform and take my clothes; since you have sacrificed your honor for love of your home, take this house and this garden. The blacksmith shop and everything else here belong to you. I am going to Algiers to pay the debt which you owe to France." It was in vain that the wife and child besought him to remain; he left the house without turning around, and remained five years in the army in place of his son.
UN MARIAGE.
ALL the workingmen of the great city had put on their Sunday clothes; they were walking on the sidewalks and were talking together, when suddenly some one cried out: "Here is the wedding procession." My surprise was great when I saw at the other end of the street only the bridal pair and behind them four witnesses. I had supposed that this must be the wedding day of the owner of the factory, since the crowd was so great and was formed like two hedges on each side of the street. The couple smiled at their friends, and waved to them a friendly salute. The young man was leaning on the arm of the girl, and allowed himself to be guided by her. He carried his head high, and his eyes were fixed and glassy, and I saw that he was blind. After the couple had passed the door of the town hall I remained on the sidewalk, when a workingman whom I knew, an overseer in the factory, passed by. Together we entered a coffee house, and he told me the story of the couple: "The young fellow used to work in the great iron works; he was a model workman, and his comrades were very fond of him. One day there was an accident; a bit of iron entered his eye, and the ambulance was called to carry him to the hospital. He had to undergo a terrible operation, which did not succeed, for he lost both his eyes. His employer promised him a small pension, but in a short time the factory failed and all the workmen were without work. Of course the pension of the blind fellow stopped; the lawyers came and shut up the factory and took possession of all the account books. This was a hard blow for Jean; he was blind, sick, alone, and he was deprived of the small sum which assured to him his daily bread. We had to think it over, and at last, with the permission of the overseer, we built a little box at the entrance to the factory, where the blind man could sit and beg. It was no disgrace for him to beg, but he blushed with shame at the thought; in order not to be idle he made little objects of wire, which he sold. One day, however, during the terrible winter which followed, Jean fell sick and was forced to stay in bed. We placed a little collection box at his seat, but no one stopped to give pennies when it was so cold. There was a young girl near the attic where Jean was lying sick; she was touched by his misfortune, so she took her lace (she was a lace maker) and seated herself at the box. When any one passed she said: 'Don't forget the poor blind man.' Many people came to see her there, and she carried home her collection, in which there were not only the pennies of the workingmen, but also silver and gold pieces from richer people. She succeeded so well that she did the same thing the next day and all the following days, until Jean was finally cured of his sickness. You can easily guess the end of the story. Jean said to his comrades one day that he wanted to marry the generous lace maker, and he invited them all to his wedding. The marriage did not disarrange the daily work in the factory, because to-day is a holiday. The chief owner paid for the wedding dinner, and now you see why we are all here this morning. We wanted to prove our friendship for the poor blind fellow." As he finished speaking, the married couple left the town hall, and everybody cried out: "Long live the bride!"
POUR LE RUBAN.
WHEN one lives in the country without working, one is sure to win the respect of all the village inhabitants. Although Olivier had only nine hundred francs income, yet he found this very true.