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Updated: May 6, 2025
Every man got to his feet, and Muroc let the coffee-tin fall. "There's to be a grand review in the village this afternoon. There's breakfast for you, my dears!" Their exclamations were interrupted by Lajeunesse, who added: "And so my Madelinette is to go to Paris, after all, and Monsieur Parpon is to see that she starts right." "Monsieur" Parpon was a new title for the dwarf.
Tell them that I will come to them at nine o'clock tonight, and we will swear fidelity." "And a damned good speech too bagosh!" cried the mealman, his fingers hungering for the gold pieces. "We're to be captains pretty soon eh?" asked Muroc. "As quick as I've taught you to handle a company," answered Lagroin, with importance. "I was a patriot in '37," said Muroc.
"But suppose they fired at us 'stead of at His Excellency?" asked the mealman. "Then, mealman, you'd settle your account for lightweights sooner than you want." Duclosse twisted his mouth dubiously. He was not sure how far his enthusiasm would carry him. Muroc shook his shaggy head in mirth. "Well, 'tis true we're getting off to France," said the lime-burner.
Accept my humble gift." "The devil dead?" cried Muroc; "then I'll go marry his daughter." Parpon climbed up on a pile of untired wheels, and with an elfish grin began singing. Instantly the three humorists became silent and listened, the blacksmith pumping his bellows mechanically the while. "O mealman white, give me your daughter, Oh, give her to me, your sweet Suzon!
They seemed to be reminiscing over old times. " two thirty-eight an hour with overtime and double time for the swing shift. We really had it made then! And every Saturday, never fail, the general would come out from Muroc and tell us we were the heros of the home front with overtime pay while we listened to him!" "Yeah, but what if you wanted to quit?
"'Tis what I expected after that meeting, and the Governor's visit, and the lily-flag of France on the Manor, and the body-guard and the carbines," said Muroc nervously. "We're all in trouble again-sure," said Benoit, and drained his glass to the last drop. "Some of us will go to gaol."
He heard the sound of a drum in the distance. The gloom and suspense of the night just passed went from him, and into the sunshine he sang: "Oh, grand to the war he goes, O gai, vive le roi!" Not long afterwards he entered the encampment. Around one fire, cooking their breakfasts, were Muroc the charcoalman, Duclosse the mealman, and Garotte the lime-burner. They all were in good spirits.
Every man got to his feet, and Muroc let the coffee-tin fall. "There's to be a grand review in the village this afternoon. There's breakfast for you, my dears!" Their exclamations were interrupted by Lajeunesse, who added: "And so my Madelinette is to go to Paris, after all, and Monsieur Parpon is to see that she starts right." "Monsieur" Parpon was a new title for the dwarf.
Lajeunesse the blacksmith, Muroc the charcoal-man, and twenty others were as intent upon preserving a high standard of morality, by force of arms, as if another Tarquin were harbouring shame and crime in this cedar shed. The whole thing came home to Francois with a choking, smothering force. Art, now in its very birth in his heart and life, was to be garroted.
The mealman's face seemed to petrify, his eyes stood out, the bread he had in his teeth dropped, and he stared wildly at Lajeunesse. All were occupied in watching the mealman, and they did not see the figure of a girl approaching. Muroc, dumfounded, spoke first. "Elise the black fever!" he gasped, thoroughly awed. "She is better, she will live," said a voice behind Lajeunesse.
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