With Those Who Wait
The horses, needing no guidance, would always pull up at the same spot in front of the station from which point of vantage, b
y to be had of the old boatman after the arrival of the Paris train. Invariably there were packages to be called for at Berjot's grocery store, or Dudrumet's dry goo
quay to get the evening papers, and then passing through Essommes with its delightful old
to foreigners, but to the Parisians themselves, so aside from the art lovers who made special trips to Rheims, there was comparatively little pleasure travelling in our immediate neighbourhood, and y
ur friends, not only along celebrated highways, but through leafy by-paths that breathed the very poetry of the XVIIth. century
in vegetation, but in silvery green harmonies so beloved of the Barbizon master, and
cause of his absolute and loquacious partiality for those American machines, and to reach his establishmen
as become the most disputed spot on the map of Europe; "The Elephant" a heap of waste in No Man's Land, while doubtless from the ve
to California, Belleau Woods have become words full of fearful portent. I often wonder then, if the brave Americans who are actually disputing inch by inch my h
tle orphan peasant lad, under army age, who fled with our caravan four years since, now p
MAD
say as much for my grandparents, for you doubtless know what has a
y brother Alfred that they had been obliged to leave home and had fled in an unknown di
irls of the village. After twenty-four hours in Pa
nd it no longer, and with three companions they started home on bicycles, in order to see what had happened. They reached Villiers to find every house empty, and were almost instantly expulsed by
ore than it did in 1914. That horde of scoundrels
ll and happy, and I beg you to believe
CHA
al des
llerie-28
eur
was becoming unbearable and we three were the last to leave our unfortunate city. Behind us an army engineer blew up the post and telegraph office, the military buildings, the
get by, and one can hardly imagine the state of a highway that is encumbered by a double current of refugees and soldiers hastening towards the front. The painful note was made by the unfortunate civilians who had put on their Sunday clothes, the only way they had of saving them. As to the picturesque, it was added
ing cortège; while on the other-brilliant youth constituted a hom
nment Offices, the banks, the prefecture and the post office without the slightest alarm. The retreat was well advanced ere they dr
our innocent civilians and their possessions. Shot and shell, organised looting and cruelty, were employed to cow the intrepid spirit of the French, but without success. When, finally their re
d like a hideous nightmare. Even the Eastern Railway, which had been closed on account of the destruction of some seven or eight bridges over the Marne, broke all records by repairing or replacing them
ll rumbling of the cannon to remind us of bygone terrors, while the establishment of several emergency hospitals in the vicinity
e such accustomed sights that a youthf
future. In the odd moments of relief from my somewhat onerous hospital duties, my only pleasure and distraction was to build castles in t
ty reached me, my imag
the way of furniture that the Germans had defaced or neglected to appropriate. There were many skilful carpenters and cabinet makers among them, and I saw visions of employing them
ting the ports of France, and in excellent condition. I had long coveted it for my boudoir, and in days before the war had often dickered with him as to price. I now feared lest it should have been destroyed or disfigured, and regretted having wi
back here again before you sell it? You're much nearer the front than we! You will not only lose yo
his remark was received was as go
now it will be all over before Spring and you'll see what
als were the only creatures really exempt from preoccupation about the fray. It might be war for man and the friends of man, but for them had come an unexpected reprieve, and even the more wary soon felt their exemption from pursuit
tant bombardment assumed any importance, they would disappear below ground completely, for days at a time. My old foxhound was quite disconcerted. But like all
CHATEA
arnyard hen and chickens, and one recalled with amazement the times when stretching themselves on their cl
ooting in the army zone, weazels, pole cats and even fox have become very numerous, and covey of quail that once numbered ten an
r arm. Her husband heard her coming, and on learning the motive of her wails, the imprecations brought down on the head of that fox were picturesquely profane to say the least. Presently the scene
rful woodlands that abound in our vicinity, and which breathed so many inspirations to the Master of Fable, who at one time was their keeper. H
e without an incident-never an incident, no matter how insignificant, that did n
eanour, I found her standing face to face with a hare! Both animals, while startled, were rooted to the spot, gazing at each other in sheer fascination of their own fearlessness. It was so amazingly odd that I laughed aloud. But even this did not break the s
he doubtless felt was his only true vocation. He had fared ill at the hands of the Germans, and during the entire Winter our own boys had use
o at a time. Then he was gone a week,
and joy of our woods, and one afternoon I came upon this motley company down by
he tender green foliage, gold splashed here and there by the fast sinking sun. Fil-de-Fer stood a moment undecided. Presently, lifting his hind legs high into the air he gave vent to a series of kickings and contortions whic
kind of animal the Loup-garou might be, was somewhat difficult to ascertain. No one in our vicinity had ever seen him, and from all I co
voices when speaking of this weird phenomenon, and presently from having suspected my innocen
at were destined for our hospital. I do not now recall for just what reason I went alone, save for a twelve-year-old village lad, but what I do remember w
his feet on the bottom of the cart. A chill Autumn rain commenced to fall, tinkling against the rare leaves that now remained on the trees, blinding both horse and driver, and greatly impedi
I succeeded in getting a light, and just as I swung the lantern back in
oup
e side of the road, and an instant later a wild boar, followe
nt syllables. Personally, I was a bit unnerved, yet somewhat reassured. If my eyes had not deceived me, the
South when man had chosen to make the firing line of their haunts; and that, prolific breeders, they were now practically a menace to the unarmed civilian. Fr
omers, many of the old familiar birds
r our vineyards in real flocks, have almost entirely vanished. The swallow
to pay us during the Winter, and I fancy that this upsets them a trifle. For hundreds of generations they have been accustomed to nest in the pinions of certai
spection to a certain favourite drain pipe, I suddenly saw them all lift wing and sail away towards the North. My heart sank. Some
trivial, but it was perhaps this constant forced endurance that kept one up, made
to see my little friends circling about the stables. Life closer to the front had evidently not offered any particular advantage
e one of our household had invariably heard their familiar call, as at daybreak they would pass over the chateau on their way from the swamps of the Somme to the Marais de St. Gond. The moment w
Ah, that indescribable, intense, yet harmoniou
before Verdun, Ben?it was killed on the Oise, a
, was in vain. The wild ducks are a thing of the past. Where have they gone? No one knows, no one has ever seen them. And in the te
, abandoned creatures having strayed into our barnyard wer
us but a moment; others tried us for a day, a week, and sti
pealing look in the eyes of a poor
ospital insisted on clipping like a lion with an anklet, a curl over his nose and a puff at the end of his tail. A most
ls I have ever seen. But the new comer was so full of life and good will, had such a comical way of smiling and showing h
and strange capers, which invariably terminated by a double somersault in the mud so anxious was he to
lie by the open fire, lost in a profound revery that terminated in a kind of sob. Poor, melancholy Mireille, what master wa
" I would murmur, "that you will ever and eternally belong to him to whom you gave yourself once and entirely. But these are sad anxious days for us all; we must bear together.