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About The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 25, 1900)
X 8. . THE COURIER. THE MOTHER. A Recollection of the Siege (Translated from the "Contes du Lundl," of Alphonsc Daudet, by Katharine Mellck. I That morning I went to 'Mount Val erien, to see our friend the painter Bsrre. lieutenant of the militia of the Seine. Juat now the brare soldier found himeelf in the trenches. No chance of a movement. He must con tent himself with promenading up and down like a shipman of the watch be fore the fort postern, talking of Paris; of the war, of our dear absent ones. All at once my lieutenant, who, be neath his militia uniform keeps always the ardor of the artist apprentice, in terrupted himeelf baiting abruptly and clutching my arm. "Oh, what a perfect Daumier!" he said softly, and the corner of his little grey eye lit suddenly, like that of a hound catching a scent, ss be showed me two veatrable profiles appearing upon the ridge of Mount Valerien. A perfect Daumier it was. The man in long maroon redingote, with a collar of greenish velvet that seemed made of old forest moss, slender, tiny, red cheeked, with low forehead, round eyes and a nose like the beak of the snowy owl. A wrinkled crows face, solemn and stupid. To complete the setting, a rush basket garlanded with flowers, from which stood out the neck of a bottle, and under the other arm a can ister 01 preserves, the indispensable canister which Parisians never eee with out recalling the five months' blockade. As to the woman, one saw at first on'y a huge riding hood, and an old shawl which wrapped her tightly from head to feet, as if the better to outline her wretchedness; then, an oc casional glimpse, between the faded ruches of the capote, of the tip of a sharp cose, and some thin grey. locks. Arrived on the plateau, the man stopped to take breath end to wipe his forehead. Yet it waa not warm up there in the mists of the end of No vember; but they had oome so quickly. The woman did not stop. Marching straight to the postern, she looked at us a minute, hesitating as if she wished to speak; bat, abashed perhaps by the face of the officer, she turns instead to the sentinel, and I heard her ask timid ly to see her eon, a soldier of the six teenth, the thirtieth of Paris. "Stop there;" said the guard; "I will call him." Overjoyed, with a sigh of relief, she turned to her husband, and the two went away to sit down at the edge of a slope. They waited there very long. Thia ' Mount Valerien is so large, so intricate in course, and slope, with its bastions, barracks, casemates! Undertake, then, to search for a soldier of the Sixteenth, in that inextricable city, suspended between earth and sky a spiral floating among mkt like the iale of Laputa. -And not this aloce; for at that hour the fort swarms with- drummers, trumpet .en, soldiers running, horses neighing. Guards are relieved, drill executed, ratkBs"SSed; a bloody spy is brought in by the sharp-shooters; some peas ants of Naaterre come, to complain is, general; a courier arrives at a gallop, the man terrified, the horse reeking: ambulance panniers return from the advance posts with the woupded, bal anced, one on each flank of the mules, and groaning softly, like sick lambs;' sailors mount a new field piece, to the music of the fife, and the "heave ho;" the flocks of the fort are driven forth by a shepherd in red pantaloons, goad in handiand muskst in shoulder-belt: all .this throng, coming, going, crossing in Use court, is swallowed up beneath the'twetern as within the gateway of as Oriental caravaBsory. ' "They cauot have forgettea mr i," said the eyes of the mother, all this time, aBd every five minutes she rose, cautiously approached the en trance and, sheltering herself agatast the wall, peered furtively into the outer court; but she dared askT no more, for fear of making her son ridiculous. The man, even more abashed, did not stir from his corner; and every time she returned, trembling, disheartened, it was evident that he chafed at ber im patience, and gave her emphatic ex planations of the necessities of the service, accompanied by gestures like those of an imbecile trying to make himself comprehended. I have alwajB been keenly interested in those little scenes, silent, suggestive, wherein one divines far more than one soes; those pantomines of the street that elbow you, as you walk, and with a gesture reveal a complete existence; but what captivated me here above all was the simplicity, the naiveneta of my actors, and I felt an exquisite emotion in reading through their expression, transparent and clear as the 6onl of two actors of Seraphin, all the phases of an adorable domestic drama. 1 aaw the mother aaytag, on a fair morning, "He wearies me, this Monsieur Trochu, with bis orders. For three months I have cot seen my son. I am going to embrace him." The father, alarmed, disturbed in his customary way of life, terrified at the thoaght of the pilgrimages to be made in order to procure a permit, at tint attempts to reason. " "But you do cot think, my dear. This Mount Valerien is tremendous. How cm you go there without a cart? Besides it k a citadel! No women can go there." "1 shall go there," say the mother, and as he executes her behests, the man seta forth. He goes to the secretary, to the mayor, to the staff major, the commissary, sweating with fear, trsm- tary cape, musket, and all disappear in the huge riding hood. Tbea the father has his tarn, but this is not so long. The riding hood covets all fcr itself. It k'ieaatiable. "How are you getting on? Are you wellbeJded? What of your' washing?" And beneath the frills of the poke I felt the long look of love with which she enveloped him from head to feet; in a shower of embraces, tears, little smiles; an arrearage of three months of maternal tenderness, which she paid him all in a breath. The father also was much excited but did not wish to seem so. He felt that we were notic ing, and glanced at us as if to say: "Pray excuse her'; she is a woman." Excuse her! A trumpet call blew suddenly upon the estacy. 'The summons," said the son; "I must go." "What! not eat with ub?". "Oh no. I cannot 1 am on duty for twenty four hours up there in the fort." "Ob!" said the poor woman; and was KCOCulOBB They remained a moment, all three, looking at one Another dismayed. Then the father spoke: "At least take the canister," he said in a broken voice, at once touching and comical in 'its 'gourmand abnegation. But alas! la the distress and confu sion of farewell, they cannot' find that luckless canister; and it is pitiful to see those feeble, trembling hands searching, fluttering; to hear those voices, choked by tears demanding, 'the canister! Where is the canister?" without re proach at mingling that small culinary loss with the mighty sorrow. The can ister recovered, there was a- last long emr ce, and the son reentered the for . a run. Thinking how far they had come for that lunch together, what a grand -feast they had made it, how the mother bad Wing with cold, driving himself along, not slept that night,-tuld anything be losing his way. waiting two hours at the rear of a department, to find' that it is cot the one. At last he comes home, in the evening, with a permit from the commander in his pocket. The next day they rise betimes, in the cold, by lamp light; the' father breaks a crust to sustain himself, but the mother is not hungry. She wants to eat up there with her boy. And to regale a little the poor soldier, they heap quickly, very quickly, into the rush basket, the store and the reserve store of provisions for the eeige, chocolate, comfits, bot tled wine, all, even to the canister, an eight-franc canister which they have guarded sacredly against the days of dire want. See them set forth. Now they come to the ramparte; they reach the gates. The pass "must be shown. It k the mother who trembles. JBut no. It appears that they are in order. "Pass," says the adjutant. Then alone she breathes. "He k very polite, that officer," and, light as a partridge, she tripe, she hast ens The mac can scarcely keep step. "How utst you go, my dear.'' But she hears not. 'High up there in the mists of the horixon. Mount Val erien signals her. "Make haste he k here." And now that theyare come, a new anguish.. If they should cot find him! It he should not come? Suddenly 1 see her start, touch the arm of the old man and rise at a spring. From afar, beneath" the arch of the postern, she has recognized hk step. It k he! When be appears, the whole facade of the fortress k illuminated. A noble lad, by my faith! Firm built, with knapsack on shoulder, gun in hand. He greets them with frank face, in. tones glad and troubled. "Bonjour, Raman" And on the iiwtant, kaspsack, soiU- more heart breaking than that broken party, that corner of paradise dkplayed and instantly shut up? For some time they remained motion less on the spot, their eyes riveted upon the postern" where the boy had dis appeared. At last the man shook him self, made a halt turn, coughed once or twice very courageously, and, once well assured of bk voice, "Come, motheK We must be off;" he said loudly and cheerfully. From a dktance he "made us a low bow, and took the arm of his wife. I followed them with my eyes to the turn of the road. The'fatber had a wild air. He brandished the rush basket with furi ous gestures. The mother appeared more calm. She walked at his side, with bowed bead, dropped arms. But over her narrow shoulders I saw the Bhawl shake convulsively. Colorado Excursion. The Chicago Bock Island Pacific By. will sell tickets to Colorado and Utah points August 2lst and September 4th and 18th at the following low rates. Denver and return, 118.25, Colorado Springs and return, $1885, Glenwood and return, $30 25, Salt Lake City and Ogden and return, 131.00, All tickets good for return until October 31st. For further information and a book on Colo rado scenery address E. W. Thompsoic, A. G, P. A., Topeka, Kansas. F. H. Babices, C. P. A., 3t Lincoln, Neb. COLONEL STOTSENBURG. For I remember stopping by the way To watch a Potter thumping his wet clay: Aad with its all-obliterated Tongue It murmured," Gently, Brother, gently pray.' Rubaiyat. I do not ask the impossible when I ask for greater consideration on the part of each of us toward the other. I want merely a change of position. As it stands now, we condemn men until they work themselves out of our con demnation why should we not approve their work at first and hold them as good until shown to be faulty. Neither heroes among men nor perfection in mankind is necessary: let the one lire in epic and the other in theory. The conditions of our time will give us all that can be desired. Contemporaries ' te.l us that this age is eminently a prac tical one, that romance glows for the average man only between book covers or in the imagination. For what we do, we beg that judgment be deferred until results may speak for themselves; and if they are good, give us the appre ciation that by right it ours. Such a gentleman was the Colonel, asking but this. However; we did not wait, when first he came among us, but stamped him with the seal of our con demnation, and so held him while he crossed the seas and stretched his firing line. Thoee'illuetriouB Fellows, who sit in high places, using poetage stamps free of charge, possessing superior acu men, demanded that bis removal be im mediate and'instantaneous. But this is as it may be. Hie revenue upon this UDJust censure of ours was sweet, though at best the means were scanty; be was too brave to cry out against it, too noble to return it. He chose the last and best way to die for it. The sharp crack of rifles and the ping of flying bullets sound across the ' swampa and beneath the tangled creep ers tossed in lattice work along sluggish streams. Armed men lie panting in the tall grass, hot sweat running down their faces. Toe slender blade-stalks quiver and rustle in the Ecorching air. A man springs to hs feet "Charge!" The grass is alive with rushing men: it rippleB between their lege, and lies broken behind. The moment is a long one an eternity to cross that strip of fire. Spurts of smoke and tips of red dart into the air. Short snappy reports are heard.. But he i3 there at their head sword in band face tense and mouth set tight. A ringing shout comes from the line. Suddenly he stops with a quick, con vulsive jerk. The sword slips from his fingers. He falters and sinks to his knees with hand on breast. And so to the ground. The bullets sing on, the slender grass and white flowers cod and whisper. The Kiote. The Bock Island playing cards are the slickest you ever handled. One pack will be sent by mail on receipt of 15 cents in stamps. A money order or draft for 50 cents or same in stamps will secure 4 packs. They will be sent by express, charges prepaid. Address, Johw Sebastian, G. P. A., Chicago, Bock Island & Pacific R'y, Chicago. Do you get your Courier regularly? Please compare address. If incorrect, please send right address to Courier office. Do this this week. Do you get your Courier, regularly ? Please compare address. If incorrect, please send right address to Courier oflU. Dethkthkwsek. "Why did all of those actors leave that boarding house so suddenly?" The landlady bought au egg plant." ( H a