Making A Soldier

It was a lovely Sunday evening. ïlie barracks were well-nigh deserted, as nearly all the soldiers had gone a pleasuring iu town. With them had goue the conscripta who had joined the army only the day before, in bands of ten or a dozen, their caps awry, their coats wrinkled, their hands imprisoned in sprawling white gloves. In the retnotest part of the barrackyard, sat alone- all alone- on a doorstep a poor eonscript, his chin in his hands, his elbows on his knees, f ollowrag his fel ows who went out with wistful eyes, or when no one was in sight gazing üxedly on the ground. He looked like one of those good boys who feel like the hand of death the summons which tears them from their families, but who finish by becoming the best of soldiers, with miuds resigned, calm, willing. On his face, however, there was more than the expression of dreaming and surprise, such as a eonscript usually wears during his flrst days of barrack life- there was positivo melancholly. Terhaps he was regretting that he had not gone out with the rest of the fellows. A corporal in fatigue dress, whohappened to be crossing the yard, espied the conscript and slrode up to hiin sharply. ■ I 'What's that fellow doing there with bis hands crossed.' Who? I?' said the couscript. 'Who? I?' echoedthe corporal. 'He's a nice fellow ! And whom is he speakling to- to the moon? Here! Stand up when you are addressing your superior! Who are you? What company doyoubelong to?' 'What company?' 'Yes, what company, cabbage-bead ? and seizing mm by ine SKirc 01 ms coat, he shook him till he reeled. 'Look at see how you've fixed your coat squatting on a door-step like a dirty 6The conscript dusted it ofE with his hand. 'And your shoes - prelty shoes, those!' , , . The ccnscript stooped to clean them with nis handkerchief 'And your cravat up rouna your ears -and your cap-ugh! Come, draw up those trousera if you don't want them to be in raga inside of a week, button up your tunic, and don't stick there with your head sunk on your breast likea monk, or staring at everjbody 1 like a stupid stuck pig.' The poor lad ran trembhng flngers over his clothing, but the more he hurried the less he succeeded; indeed ] he knew not what he was doing. At that moment the pretty young canumere of the regiment paused before them. To appear ridiculou3 and stupid before I a pretty woman- what could be worse, and the conscript utterly lost his presence of mind, fumbled wilh his flngers at his butt ns, then let his arma f all dejectly by his side, drooped his head and stood silent. The cantiniere laughed and tripped [away 'Baby!' said the corporal, shaking his head with an air of scornful j parison; then, lifting his voice, he went on: 'You'll have to wake up, my boy, and promptly, too, or else we'll wake you up. Fatigue drill, bread and water; bread ana water md fatigue drill- we wont let you feel homesick, take mj word for it. Now, off to your room and clean up your trap3. 'MarchI' 'But I' 'Hold your tongue when your superior addresses you, oc eist: - the guardroom is over youder! Do you see it,?' and the corporal turned away, growliug, 'Fine stuff thi3 for an army - poor Italy!' 'I say, corporal - sir!' the conscript cilled af ter Mm tiinidly. The corporal wheeled round and glared at him, pointing jtowards the guard-room. 'I wanted to ask you one thing,' said the lad in a tone so gentle and liumble that it wa3 impossible not to listen to it, 'Well, ask it- that one thing.' 'I wanted to ask you if there was in the regiment an oflicer who comes from where I come f rom; there ought to be, but I don't knowfor certain.' 'If the peoplo where you come from are all like yon, you may depend ou it you're the onty rnan from the place we have.' And, shrugging his shoulders, he swaggered off. 'But why are we treateil thus?' sighed the lad, as he sank down again on the stone step. 'What have we done ? What are we- dogsf And five years of it to come!' He buried Lis face in his hands. At that moment three of the soldiere on guard came strolling past. 'Poor boyl' they cried, with a shout of laughter, 'he must be in love! He's thinking about hia little sister - thinking about his girl! She's got another fellow by this time. Look at the eyes he makes! Po-o-o-r boy!' 'Who can they be making fun of iiow ?' said the offlcer of the guard to himself, as he strolled to the window with his newspaper in his hand. The soldiers saw him coming and made of discreetly; the conscript looked up and caught his eye. 'Who can that idiot be? What can he want?' said the offlcer, half angrily, as he saw the ladbeckon to him and laugh, first in surprise then with satiafaction. 'What is the matter with you, eh ?' he asked, striding out into the yard; 'wkatmakes you chuckle so and rub your hands ? Answer me, will you?' 'You see, you see,' said the con3cript, nervously flngering the hem of his tunic; 'I knew you were in this regiment, and they sent me here. You don't remember me, I know, but I remember you. you were home three years ago - I knew you and knew your people too, but I daresay you don't know me, but I lued to see you ride past our house eveiy morning, and we are both from the same place - that's what I wanted to say.' 'Hum, I understand!' said the ofllcer, scanning Min closely, as if to recall his face and name. ' I knew you were an officer, ' continued the conscript, 'and since you were home last they've rebuiltthe front of the church opposite your house, and on the square there's a cafe, as big as - half as big a3 this yard, and it's full of people all day long.' llold on, 1 remember you now - your name ia lienzo, isn't it?' 'Yes, Benzo.' 'And you used to live in the little stone-house by the church down in the laneV' 'Yes, exactly; ia the little stonehouse by the church down in the lanel' The boy could hardly speak for delight. 'Well, and hovv do you like soldieriflg?' The conscript's face fel!; he loweved his eyea and remained silent. 'Why aren'tyou off with the rest of thetn, en joying yóurse' f ?' Still no answer, but uu anawer was to be read in his face. 'Come,' said the 01 'oer, 'what's the matter? Out with it.' The matter is, cap' lin,' stainmered the lad, 'that is to say, I don't know what it is, but the way they treat us here isn't fair - at least, it isn't pleasant. If we ask any one anything he doesu't answer, and when any one says hard things to us we have to swallow them - or else its 'There's the guardroom!' I know that we ain't soldiers vet- that we don't know everything, but we only carne here yesterday, so howcanwe? They ought to understand that we canie here to learn, and have some patience with us, it seems to ine. Then they make fun of us before people, and scold us, and haul us around, and we have to stand it, and they laugh. Wby do they ? I carne here willingly to be a soldier, forl said to myself, 'l'll do my duty, whatever it is, and my superiors will like me,' but in3tead of that- . Perhaps when we are more used to it we won't care, but just now it isn't easy to bear it. It was different at home, you know; we were used to the ways of the house, and everybody liked us, and here they make fun of us and of our people. I teil you, captain, it is hard to bear - I very hard to bear!' The officer made no reply for some moments, but coolly Ut a cigar and went on carelessly and as if he had ' heard nothing of all the lad had said. 'Here, fix that necktie of yours properly.' (He arranged ithimself.) 'Tüere, i that's much better! Now, there should be no folds or creases in your coat - it isn't soldierly.' (He pulled and patted the tunic into position.) 'Tip your cap over on the ear- so! It gives you a morerakish aspect.' The conscript smiled. 'Carry youraelf like a man, with your ' shoulders back and your head up, and when y ou walk Btep out resol utely, ' boldly, just as you did when you played tenpins in the yard of our house and had made a ten-strike. Do you remember?' The lad's face showed plainly that he did. 'And,' oontinued the oiflcer, leaning against the wall, 'look every man you meet squarely in the eye, because you should be af raid of nobody and have nothing to blush for. If ït was the King himself whom you met, lift your head and look him in the face, aa much as to say, 'Ilere am I!' Don't forget that. And remember that in the army you must change your way of speaking. Few words, and thoseto the point. No matter who it may be that speaks to you, answer -Yes' or 'No.' When you I are ia the ranks be as quiet aa if you wero at church ; but once you have ' broken ranks, you are home and your own master. If the others are making a noise, raise more racket than they do, but don't sit gazing at them enjoyiag themselves ; it will make you feel down in the mouth. Love your comrades ; you will find friends among them - f riends who will love you like a brother. Many things are laoking here, but not good fellowship - remember that.' 'Did you ever hear of Perrier, said the officer, 'Perrier, the soldier that threw himself between his officer and the enemy and feil with three bullets in his body, crying: 'Remember me, Lieutenant; I die happy in saving youF life V Nor of that grenadier who, rather than surrender his wounded captain, was bayonetedtodeath, stnuting, 'Take him wheu I am dead - not bef ore?' Nor of the eight or ten other3 who at lüvoli went under a hail of bullets to rescue their commander's body from the Austrians, so that they eould see it buried in camp with all the honors ? And there are hundreds of others whose naines and deeds have been written down in all the big books, who are remembered and beloved a3 if they were with us still. Have you a match ?' The conscript, who had been gazing at him as if an ecstasy, his mouth and eyes wide open, drew a box of matches from his pocket and handed them to the officer. 'VVhen one remembers all this,' said the offlcer, 'and when one has a little philosophy, one overlooks the little hard8hips and worries of a soldier's life. You must remember everything you are taught, and as you are a sensible fellow you will. Keep them in your head and little by little you will take a liking to everything - your arms, your uniform, this yard, this staircase, these walls, and when your time of service is up and you have said good-by to your sergeants, and when all the other soldiers come to see you off and wish you good luck and bid you remember them, your heart will feel as itfelt when you left home; and when from the road you take your last look at the windows of your barrack-rooni, you will turn and say - if you can say anything, 'good-by, my second home, where I have loved so many friends, where I hare passed so many happy days with a quiet conscience, where I have so often sighed for my loved ones!' Good-by to my poor hard little bed; good-by, sergeant; good-toy captain.' Why, what's the ter with you. The conseript was standing rapt, motionless, his features working, his breast heaving, his eyes wet with tears. 'What is the matter with you?' The lad endeavored to flnd Ms voice, drew a long breath, as if about to speak, but could only whisper hoarsely: 'ííothing!' The offlcer smiled. 'JSTow to please me, you will go and drink one glass of wine to good luck for all conscripts. Here, takethis!' 'Oh, sir,' stammered the lad, reddening, and declining the coin. 'WhatV' said the officer sharply. The conscript took the coin and strove to stammer something, 'Not a word. Off!' He rushed into the yard, dancing, rubbing his hands, laughlng, talking to bimself. He entered the canteen and drank his glass of wine, which the cantiuiere poured out for him with her sweetest smile. On his way out he met the corporal, who accosted hitn in a much more gentle fashion. 'Say, is that ofíicer that has been talking with you for the last hour any relative of yours ?' 'No.' 'But you know Mm?' 'Iutiniately.' So he's the oflicer frotn your placo you were looking for? If I had knowa that, I would have answered you, but I didn't understand you.' 'That's all right ! He isn't half a bad fellow, that corporal,' said the conscript to himself, as the former walked away. Meanwhile the soldiers were struggliug back iiito barracks, among them a group of conscripts, flushed with liquor and joyf ully noisy. ■If the others are inaking a noise, raise more racket than they do,' said the conscript to himself, and be plunged into the group, shouting, 'Hurrah for - for Perrier !' 'Hurrah for Perrier !' echoed his fellows, without the remotest idea of who Perrier might be, and singing and skylarking they passed up the staircase. The offlcer, who had been looking on from his window, smiled as he said to himsalf, 'That fellow will make a good soldierl' It was night and the sky was blazing with stars. There was a clamor in the barrack-yard, and in the streets outside the sweet, clear bugles were sounding. Unconsciously, he lifted his eyes and leaning out, said softly : 'Perrierl Where are you, Terrier? Bid yon hear them ?'-