"The march was resumed soon after daylight. The lad had a further idea and this he worked out all during the day. Providing himself with canteens, which he took from the soldiers of his company, he stopped every little while at farmhouses and filled the canteens. These he restored to their owners, and then, taking other canteens, filled these as well, running to catch up with his company to give his comrades water. That day and following days found the child the hardest worked person in the company.

"Now and then a soldier would stagger from weariness. Jean was at his side in a moment relieving the soldier of some of his burden which the boy would carry until someone took it away from him.

"One day the colonel of the regiment discovered him and ordered him sent home. Jean begged, all to no purpose, then ran to his friend, the lieutenant, for help. The lieutenant took Jean back to the colonel and explained the situation.

"'This boy,' said the lieutenant, 'is one of the most useful civilians with this outfit. We shall miss him if he is sent back. And further, it would not be safe for him to return home alone. In all probability he would not reach there alive.'

"'Do I understand that you are willing to charge yourself with the care of this child?' demanded the colonel.

"'I do, most certainly, my Colonel.'

"'Very good, then; the boy may remain. Watch over him. He is a patriot, indeed.'

"Jean's joy showed in his face only. He made no fuss, but kissed the hand of his faithful friend the lieutenant and went about his duties.

"There came a day when the regiment met the Prussians—when the Frenchmen went over the top and the Germans came out to meet them. Jean was with his beloved companions, but, strange to say, he carried no rifle. One had been offered to him, but he shook his head. Instead, he carried several canteens of water and his blouse was stuffed with first-aid bandages. He knew what he wished to do and what he believed he could do best.

"Soon men began to fall. The stretcher bearers were too few to give quick attention to all, but Jean was there. With his bandages he bound as best he could the wounds of his comrades, and quenched their thirst from his canteens. Many were the suffering poilus who blessed the little soldier of mercy that day.

"Jean's face was bleeding where a bullet had left a gash across it, but to this he gave not the slightest heed. Time and time again he ran back for more water; time and time again did he rush for the stretcher bearers to get aid for a particularly badly wounded comrade. The child seemed to be utterly fearless, or perhaps he did not even realize that the air about him was thick with bullets and exploding shells. If he knew he did not care.

"With nightfall the troops of both sides backed away to their own trenches. Jean's work, however, was not yet done. He remained out on the field where lay men who would never rise again, and many more who were suffering and dying. All night long he worked with them, until nearly daybreak, by which time the stretcher bearers had finished their work.

"When day dawned his comrades found little Jean asleep on top of the parapet of his own trench, with a storm of machine gun fire sweeping over him. He was sleeping in a rain of steel. They hauled him in and tucked him away in a dugout.

"Jean might have slept the day through had not a shell blown up the dugout and literally blown the boy over the lip with it. He was considerably bruised and shocked, but otherwise was unhurt.

"By the time he had collected his wits and got the dizziness out of his head, his comrades were once more going over the top.

"'I must go,' was Jean's reply when an officer sought to hold him back.

"Gathering up all the canteens he could carry, Jean filled them with water and was over the top and out on the storm-swept field. His eyes glowed with admiration when he saw his lieutenant leading and encouraging the men of his company. Jean tried to keep close to him, but this was not wholly possible, for the lad was still performing his work of mercy.

"Suddenly he saw the lieutenant stagger and fall.

"With a little cry Jean sprang up from the wounded man he was working over and ran to the side of his friend.

"'Where—where is it, my dear Lieutenant?' he begged anxiously.

"'Two times they hit me, child—in the shoulder and in the side. It is bad. But never mind, lad, go to the others; they need you more than do I.'

"'No, you shall come with me. Let me get my back to yours.'

"'You cannot carry me.'

"'Jean is stronger than he looks.' With that the lad got the officer to a sitting position and, placing his back against the lieutenant's, his arms under those of the officer, he straightened up. Of course, he was not strong enough to carry the man, but he was able to drag him, and with almost as much comfort to the wounded one as if he were on a stretcher.

"In this manner Jean managed to get his friend to the trench, whence the officer was taken to a first-aid station, then later in the day placed in an ambulance and started for a hospital in the rear.

"The road over which they were carried, for Jean had remained with lieutenant Andre, was shell swept, the Germans knowing very well that ambulances with wounded men were there.

"To the hospital went the two, and there, side by side, they lay in cots, for at last Jean had been struck and wounded by a shell that wrecked the ambulance just before they had reached their destination. The driver was killed but the Little Soldier of Mercy and his friend escaped, with only a shaking up for the lieutenant and a slight wound in the leg of Jean.

"Lieutenant Andre, on account of his wounds, was disabled for life, but through his efforts Jean was appointed to the French military training school, and the last I heard of him he was still fighting heroically for France."



CHAPTER XI

A BRAVE LITTLE COWARD

"He was a fine fellow, that Jean," observed Joe Funk, "but for myself I think I should have shouldered a gun and sailed in to get some of the Boches."

"That was for the soldiers to do," replied Captain Favor. "Jean's heroism was as great as that of any man who ever went into battle with rifle or sword. Now I will tell you about another hero who was both coward and hero, but, in the last analysis, was all hero. Lucien, he was named, and, though he did not know it, he was a very funny fellow. Listen to the tale of little Lucien."

"Lucien's home was in a village not far from Verdun, where such terrible fighting had been indulged in for so many, many weeks. Battles, in fact, had been fought not far from the boy's home, and even now angry Prussian parties were raiding these towns and robbing the inhabitants of whatever appealed to their appetites or their greed. Parties of them had already visited the village and Lucien was in the habit of observing their movements from high up in a tree, which was his favorite hiding place when danger approached. Nor was he partial to any particular tree. Any tree that was handy would answer his purpose.

"On the afternoon that I have in mind, a farmhouse just outside the village bore mute evidence that raiders had been there. All the windows had been broken out, doors smashed in and blackened spots about the windows and doors on the outside wall indicated that the house had been set on fire on the inside, but for some reason had not burned down. The scene was a cheerless one. Not a person was in sight.

"Along the road came a detachment of French soldiers. The officer in command, a captain, halted his men for rest and, observing the condition of the house, entered the yard to see if he could not obtain some information from the occupants. But there were no occupants there.

"'They must have been here recently,' he said out loud, meaning that the Germans had visited the place. 'Perhaps I shall find that which I seek in the village.'

"Strolling along, the captain halted under a large apple tree, from which apples had fallen to the ground, though the tree had been pretty well stripped already. He stooped over to pick up an apple and as he did so a hard apple hit him squarely on the top of the head.

"The captain said 'Ouch!' and rubbed the spot where the apple had hit him. But he forgot all about it in his enjoyment of the apple he was now eating while stepping out from under the tree. He was munching away at the fruit when another apple hit him, this time squarely on the neck.

"This was a keen as well as a cautious captain, and this time he did not pretend to have noticed the incident, but kept on munching his fruit. While doing so he squinted up at the tree out of the corner of one eye. He knew he was too far from the tree for the last apple to have fallen on him. While he was taking a cautious look another apple came out from the foliage of the tree and fell toward him, but the officer, stepping slightly to one side, avoided being hit by it.

"He deliberately drew his revolver from its holster and, turning, aimed at the tree.

"'I think I can shoot the apples off easier than I can shake them down,' he announced in a loud tone.

"'Don't shoot, monsieur l'Officer,' cried a voice from the tree.

"'What! Some one up there?'

"'Yes, yes. It is I, Lucien,' was the reply from the tree.

"'Come down, Lucien. I would like to have a look at you,' ordered the captain.

"A very young boy, red of face and very much frightened, came sliding down the trunk of the tree and landed on all fours at its foot. The officer eyed him sternly.

"'What do you mean, boy, by bombarding me with apples?' he demanded.

"Lucien hung his head. The officer jerked him to his feet.

"'Answer me! What were you doing up in that tree? Spying on us, eh?'

"'No, monsieur l'Officer, I am a Frenchman. Frenchmen do not spy on their own people.'

"'That is true. But how do I know you are not spying on us just the same, for the Germans have been here?'

"'Yes, monsieur le Capitaine, they have been here. See, they have spoiled my beautiful home. I lived there with the farmer for whom I worked—sometimes.'

"'Where were you when the Germans came?'

"'Up in the top of the apple tree. I always climb a tree when I am scared. I saw them coming and I hid myself, and I saw them when they beat in the windows and the door and carried away the food and tried to burn down the house. I shall fight them some day for that.'

"'Hm-m-m-m,' mused the officer. It was his idea that Lucien was not so stupid as he appeared.

"'Yes, monsieur, I saw them and I wish to see them again. Shall you go and fight the Boches?'

"'Of course, when we catch them. How long since they were here?'

"'Maybe an hour or an hour and a half.'

"'How many of them?'

"'About as many as you have here, maybe another company more.'

"'Which way did they go?'

"'That way.' Lucien indicated the direction taken by the Germans by a jerk of his thumb to the right. 'And Lucien knows pretty well where they have gone.'

"'Oh, you do? Kindly tell me where you think the Boches went?' demanded the captain, now amused at the boy's queerness.

"'They have gone to cut off the road from Etain. I saw them going that way.'

"'How do you know this?'

"'Did I not hear them talking just before I dropped an apple on the head of the Herr Major, the apple that stuck on his helmet and made him very angry? It was well for Lucien that the Herr Major did not know he threw the apple. Wait while I laugh, Captain. No, Lucien did not throw another at the Herr Major. He saved the next one for monsieur le Capitaine.'

"'See here, child, do you know this country well?' demanded the French Captain.

"'Yes, monsieur, I know it well, as well as I know my own pocket, and I wait only for an opportunity to serve you and my country.'

"'Well spoken. My son, the opportunity is at hand. From what you tell me I take it that the Germans went toward the forest yonder where the road from Etain passes. Is that right?'

"'Yes, monsieur, the big road from Verdun. But there is still another road to Etain. It follows along the woods to the left near the river.'

"'So?' The officer consulted a map. 'You speak truly. I thank you, my son. Now, would you like to lead us, to show us the way?'

"'Yes, monsieur.'

"'What if we are surprised by the Germans—what will you do in that event?'

"'I shall climb a tree,' replied the lad promptly. 'I do not fear the Boches so long as there are trees to climb.'

"This caused a great laugh, but the officer was satisfied that Lucien could do all and more than he had promised.

"'You shall show us the way,' he decided, and ordered his men to fall in and proceed. They passed through the village, which they now observed had been much abused by the Prussians, and on out into the country, with the lad marching beside the captain with a swagger that amused all who saw him.

"'See, the road is there to the left,' finally said the little guide. It leads to the bridge which we shall cross and take a short cut in that way. Thus, my officer, we may reach Etain before the Boches do.'

"'That will be fine,' said the captain.

"'Yes, monsieur. But what if the Boches should change their mind and wait for us? Surely you will not blame the little Lucien? He cannot read the mind of a Boche when the Boche is out of sight.'

"'No, we shall not blame you. You have told us well and we are grateful, but what you say gives me a thought. We shall halt and send out scouts.'

"This was done immediately. A short distance ahead of them were a number of farm buildings. Trees were scattered all about, giving plenty of shade, which the troops were quick to take advantage of.

"A scout came running back toward the resting detachment.

"'The Prussians are coming!' he shouted.

"Lucien made a mad dash for a tree nearby, up which he shinned and hid far up in the foliage. There were brief smiles, but the soldiers had other things to think of at that moment. The French moved forward about five hundred yards and began digging themselves in; in other words, digging temporary trenches.

"The Germans already had begun shooting, the French quickly retaliating. The former were in larger numbers than the French captain had believed them to be. Lucien was still up the tree, peering out, his eyes large and frightened. Bullets were clipping the foliage all about him. He did not realize this at first, but finally, when he did, he slid down the tree in a hurry and hid behind it.

"Scouts were hastening back to the rear with messages from the captain, who had sent for assistance, seeing that the German force was too large for him to hold off indefinitely.

"Night came on and the firing died down. There had been very few losses. During the night a large detachment of French troops joined the captain's force and early on the following morning the battle was resumed with great fury. Lucien had slept in a tree all night. His captain told him to go back home, but this the boy, for some reason of his own, did not care to do.

"Early in the day the Germans, who also had entrenched themselves, came over the top and drove the French back, taking some prisoners and killing many. Lucien, who was hiding up in a tree, found himself between the lines, high and dry, as it were. He made himself as small as possible up there and gazed wonderingly at the furious battle that was being fought beneath him. Late in the forenoon the French drove the Prussians back. The boy took advantage of the opportunity to get down from the tree and get behind his own lines. It was observed, however, that he kept always within reach of a tree.

"Men were falling out there on the field. Plucking up courage, Lucien went out with some stretcher bearers and helped gather up the wounded, but there were not enough of the stretcher bearers to properly care for the wounded; even stretchers were scarce. In the excitement of the work Lucien forgot his fears. The lad was resourceful and, recognizing the necessity for getting the wounded from the field, began to cast about for some means of solving this problem.

"'Ah! A wheelbarrow. The very thing,' he cried. The wheelbarrow belonged to the farmhouse near the field, from which the occupants had run away when the troops came. Lucien quickly possessed himself of the barrow and proudly marched out on the field pushing the barrow ahead of him. By tipping it up on one side he was able to roll a wounded man in, not very gently, but he loaded his man in just the same and, red of face, pushed the vehicle ahead of him and back to the first-aid dressing station, where he slid his passenger to the ground, leaving him for the surgeons to attend to and then trotted back to the field.

"Artillery had been brought up by both sides and shells were bursting overhead, though none had fallen near the little Frenchman.

"Lucien picked up a wounded man near the edge of the battlefield and began wheeling the victim down the road. The going was better there and he was enabled to make more rapid progress. Pausing for a rest he eyed his passenger suspiciously.

"'Who are you?' he demanded.

"'I am a Prussian officer.' The officer was so wounded in both legs that he could not stand.

"Lucien's face flushed.

"'A Prussian officer!' he cried. 'I ought to dump you out and leave you. A Prussian—bah!'

"'I am losing strength. Please give me help,' urged the officer.

"'Yes, Herr Officer, I'll help you. You are a human being even if you are a Prussian. Here we go again.' Grasping the handles of the barrow, the lad started on a run with the wounded man.

"A shell burst in the road just ahead of him. Quickly dropping his homely vehicle, little Lucien ran for a tree and shinned up it without loss of time. His passenger had slid out into the road when the barrow tipped over on its side.

"'Herr Officer, who did that?'

"'It was a Prussian shell. Take me away before they hit me,' begged the officer.

"'Why don't you tell them to stop? It's your people who are shooting at you. They must want to be rid of you. I—'

"A shell struck the tree, well down toward its base. The jolt nearly shook the boy from his perch in a crotch of the tree. Very slowly at first, then with increasing speed the tree began to fall. It came down with a mighty crash, hurling little Lucien some distance ahead of it. He was bruised and shaken and for a few minutes he lay where he had fallen, groaning.

"Suddenly he sprang to his feet and started to run toward the rear. The faint voice of the German officer called to him to come back, which brought Lucien to a standstill.

"'Maybe he is afraid, too,' reflected the lad. 'I must get him.' And get him he did. Running back, he loaded the wounded man on the barrow and ran with him all the way to the rear.

"'See! I have taken a Boche,' he cried, staggering up to the dressing station. 'I shall now go get another one.' This he did. He was taking a new interest in his work, and thereafter made no distinction between Germans and Frenchmen in his work of mercy.

"All during that desperate fighting little Lucien was a familiar figure on the battlefield. He really performed many heroic deeds. Now and then, overcome by fright, he would dash for a tree, but these flights were becoming fewer. He began to feel a pride in the work he was doing and this pride of achievement and the new spirit of patriotism that had been aroused within him served to keep him up and gave him new courage. Before that day of suffering came to an end there was none on the battlefield more heroic and courageous than little Lucien.

"How many wounded men the lad had rescued from the field of battle no one knew, but there were many of them, among them two majors and three captains.

"Just before nightfall the French made a great charge. Lucien was well out between the lines when the charge started. The Germans put down a 'curtain of fire,' hoping in this way to stop the charge. And little Lucien and his wheelbarrow were fairly caught in it. A shell hit the barrow and blew it, with a wounded soldier, into bits. Lucien was hurled into the air and fell several yards away. His own comrades charged right over him as they passed. Those near enough to hear caught a faint cry from the lad.

"'Vive la France!' were the words they heard him utter.

"Stretcher bearers, following the charging men, picked the lad up and tenderly bore him back. They saw that he was mortally wounded. While they were dressing his wounds, Lucien tugged feebly at the surgeon's blouse. The surgeon leaned over, for the little fellow's voice was very weak.

"'Lucien will climb no more trees,' murmured the lad.

"'No, my brave boy,' answered the surgeon.

"'Is Lucien brave, monsieur?'

"'There are no braver. The deeds of valor you have this day performed will live long after you, little soldier.'

"A smile that was radiant with happiness appeared on the face of the dying boy.

"'Lucien is no longer a coward,' he repeated several times. 'No longer a coward. Vive la France!' he cried, half raising himself.

"The surgeon gently laid him back and kissed the lad on both cheeks, but Lucien did not know. He was beyond the touch of human sympathy."



CHAPTER XII

THE HERO OF THE GUNS

"The patriotism of nearly all these children of France is something that you boys and girls cannot fully understand. No one can unless he has seen it displayed, as I have, in many instances," said Captain Favor.

"For instance, there is a little story of 'The Hero of the Guns,' as he was called. His name was Mattia, and though only twelve years old, he was determined to go to war and fight for France. This boy had only his mother left, his two brothers being already in the war and his father having fallen a victim to the Prussians when they raided the village in which Mattia's parents then lived.

"For a long time the lad had been studying a map of France until he possessed a very clear idea of the territory held by the Germans, as well as that where his countrymen were fighting. He talked over these things with the old men of the village and learned much from them.

"One day when he thought he knew the country well enough, this little patriot ran away from home and was well on his way to join his brothers when his absence was discovered.

"Mattia's mother appealed to the police but it was not until the following day that he was found and returned to his home. He had gone more than twenty miles on his journey when the police got him.

"'Unhappy child!' cried the boy's mother when he had been restored to her. 'Why did you do this? Did you not know the danger into which you were running? You might have been killed by German raiders or taken captive and carried to their own country and made to work, with barely enough food to keep you alive.'

"'My mother,' answered the boy bravely, 'when France is in danger, everyone, boy or man, should go to her aid just as my brothers have done, and as my father did, and gave up his life for his country. I, too, must go.'

"'Yes, but they were men while you are but a child, Mattia.'

"'Other mothers' sons have gone to war, mother; other mothers' sons will never come back. They have been shot in the war.'

"Mattia's mother, however, refused to give her consent, and the little patriot was obliged to remain at home, yet with his purpose of fighting for France still firmly fixed in his mind. One day he would go, he told himself, and one day he would show them that even a child could do a man's part.

"Early in the following spring Mattia's mother grew ill and died. The little fellow grieved for her until his face grew wan and pale. He was now left in the care of an uncle who was not very kind to him. After a month had passed in which Mattia had continued his study of the war map, he determined to leave the home of his uncle and once more try to reach his brothers.

"One evening a troop train halted at the little village. This was the boy's opportunity. Watching his chance, he slipped into one of the coaches and crawled up to the luggage rack and lay down, making himself as inconspicuous as possible. But, alas, he was discovered and dragged out by a station employe who had seen him enter the car.

"This ended Mattia's going to war for some time to come. He found no opportunity to do so until nearly a month later, when he decided to leave his uncle's home again and take his chances. This time he planned well and carefully. Providing himself with food he set out one evening after he was supposed to be in bed and asleep, and, proceeding to the railroad, started walking along it. This, he had found, was the most direct route to the front.

"Mattia's uncle did not take enough interest in his nephew's disappearance to have a search made for him. For days after that the lad continued his journey on foot, stopping at farmhouses and doing little odd jobs that were the means of providing meals for him. One day, to his great happiness, he came up with the rear of one of the armies of his beloved country.

"The boy plodded in among the troops, for this was a rest camp that he had stumbled upon, some miles distant from the front. An officer, observing that he was a civilian, halted him in the street of the village where the rest camp was situated.

"'Where are you going, boy?' the officer demanded.

"'To the war with you,' answered Mattia promptly.

"'What! To war, at your age? It is impossible. Where is your home?'

"Mattia told him.

"'My mother is dead, as is my father, and my brothers are fighting at Verdun. Mattia has only his country left to love now. Where is Verdun?'

"'You poor little patriot,' answered the officer sympathetically. 'Verdun is yonder where you see the smoke and where the big guns are in action. You can hear them now.'

"The boy nodded.

"'But you are too young to fight. It is not permissible. Wait! You have no family left at home?'

"'None, sir, save my uncle, who does not want me,'

"'And you wish to stay here?'

"'No, sir, I wish to fight.'

"'That cannot be, but if you wish you may remain here. If you can work there is much that you can do in the rear and thus serve your country well. All men who serve their country are not in the trenches. Many are serving heroically who have not yet heard the roar of the big guns.'

"'What shall I do here?'

"'Help the cooks, do little services for the officers—whatever you may find to do. But, my son, remember you are not to try to go near the firing line. It is not for children to be there. You do not know what the soldiers suffer there. They must be strong and they must be old enough to stand the terrible strain.'

"'I care not for that. I want to fight,' replied Mattia with determination. 'I am strong and I can endure as long as can the men. I know, for I have worked with men. Where shall I eat and sleep?'

"The officer told him he would speak to the mess sergeant and that the latter would provide him with food, and would arrange for the lad to lodge in one of the buildings where soldiers slept when off duty.

"That was satisfactory to little Mattia. He was happy, for he was with the army, and that night the roar of the distant artillery lulled him to sleep. It was sweet music to him. 'Tomorrow I shall fight like the Frenchman I am,' he murmured as he dropped off to sleep.

"It was many days later, however, before he got the chance to take part in actual fighting. Even that came about by chance. He had been sent back to carry a message to the lieutenant in a high-angle gun squad—"

"What is that?" interjected Joe Funk.

"I should have explained. That is what the outfit that handles the anti-aircraft guns, the men who stay on the ground and shoot at airplanes, is called. He was permitted to stand by and watch the operations of the squad. Pretty soon he was assisting them by running back and bringing up the long, slender projectiles that the gun, pointed toward the skies, fired. He enjoyed watching the kick of the piece and the way it ejected the case of the shell after the projectile had soared on its way to the clouds.

"Mattia proved himself very useful that day and earned the thanks of the ammunition carriers for his help. He was quick and never stumbled or dropped a shell.

"That night he slept on the ground near the gun, which was silent all through the night. Early in the morning he was awakened by the sharp report of the weapon. Quickly springing up, he saw, high in the air, a black speck which he knew to be an enemy airplane, because the gun squad was firing at it.

"Once more Mattia took up his work of carrying ammunition. Something tremendous exploded not far from the squad.

"'The Boches are bombing us,' cried a soldier. The lad knew from that that the airplane, so far above them, was dropping bombs to destroy the gun and its squad. The only effect of the bombing, however, was to knock down several men, Mattia among the number, by the shock of an exploding bomb.

"'They're coming down!' yelled the lad as the airplane grew larger.

"'It's a hit!' cried the lieutenant in command.

"Mattia saw the airplane turning over and over, falling, soaring like a leaf from a tree in the fall.

"'Di—did we hi—hit him?' questioned the lad.

"'Of course we hit him,' answered a soldier. 'Don't you see him coming?'

"For the first time the little French lad realized what war was. He knew there was one man, and perhaps two, in that falling machine, and that he was watching them falling to what would probably be death.

"'It is for France,' he said to himself. 'If they are Boches they must die.' However, Mattia did not get the picture of that scene out of his mind for a long time. Later on he became used to it and did not even marvel.

"One day the gun squad was sent to another point a long distance away and the lad returned to the rest camp. He now felt himself to be a well-seasoned soldier and talked of high-angle guns as volubly as could an experienced gunner. Still, he had not yet reached the realization of his ambitions. He tried often to steal away to the trenches, but in each instance was stopped and turned back.

"While in billets he fell in with a machine-gun company and became much interested in what they told him of the perilous work of that branch of the service. He concluded that this work would suit him better than the anti-aircraft service. While the latter squads ordinarily were located behind the lines, the machine gunners were up where there was trouble all the time. To join a machine-gun company was not so easy.

"Mattia's chance came one night. A company of machine gunners was ordered to a remote point on the line, a journey of some fifteen miles, where they were to establish a new emplacement, temporarily, to clean out a nest of Prussians. The lad listened to what the men had to say about their proposed journey and the work they expected to have to do with the keenest interest.

"'I too shall go,' he decided, but he told no one of his intention. Instead, he waited until the men were well started, then followed them. There was no difficulty about this, as they did not have to pass any sentries on the way.

"Shells frequently fell near them, many soared over their heads with weird moanings. He was getting so familiar with the sound of shells that he could tell the kind of shell that was passing by the noise made by it.

"Along toward the middle of the night the machine gunners reached their destination. Mattia did not show himself until the soldiers began preparing an emplacement for their gun. This emplacement was located in a clump of bushes, in which they dug a short trench, carrying the dirt far to the rear, so the enemy airplanes might not discover that the earth had been turned over there.

"The lieutenant in command discovered him and Mattia spent a few most uncomfortable minutes in trying to explain why he was there.

"'I know this boy, sir,' volunteered a sergeant. 'He is with the army and he is always very useful. Why not, sir, let him remain in case we need to send a messenger back?'

"'Very good,' answered the lieutenant, after brief reflection. 'But understand, boy, you must keep out of sight. In the daytime I want you to go over yonder in those bushes and lie down and don't dare to show yourself unless I give you permission.'

"To these orders Mattia made no response. None was expected. All the rest of the night he assisted in carrying back dirt in bags and dumping it in a gully where it could not be seen from up in the air. In addition to the parallel trench one was dug back through the soft ground as a sort of communicating trench. The lad wondered how that trench could be dug there without the enemy's seeing it, but when the men began to plant bushes along its sides, permitting the branches to droop over the trench, he saw the idea of the plan. This was camouflage.

"It was nearly daybreak when he and some of his comrades made their way to the rear and went to sleep. When he awakened the sun was shining brightly. Forgetful of his orders, he entered the communicating trench and walked forward. He was amazed to find another trench leading into the communicating trench. He asked a soldier about it.

"'Say, Mattia, do you think this squad is the only one in France?' asked the soldier. 'There are other machine-gun units out here. Of course, we know where they are and the officers know what we are going to do. Peek through these bushes.'

"'Boches!' gasped the lad.

"'That is right, Mattia. They do not know we are here.'

"'Why don't you shoot at them?'

"'We are not ready, or rather, they are not.'

"The Germans were digging a trench on a rise of ground, where they always try to place them, instead of on low ground, about half a mile away. Mattia peered at them, looking through the bushes, until he was ordered by an officer to go back and bring up the breakfast for the men. Thus the little Frenchman was given to understand that he was one of them. The officer in command either had forgotten his orders to the boy of the previous night, or else had decided to use him so long as no fighting was going on.

"There was much about the work that Mattia did not understand. He now knew that there were other French detachments close at hand, but he neither saw nor heard them. The others, undoubtedly, were camouflaged just as his detachment was.

"So secretly, however, had the French worked that the Germans did not appear even to suspect the presence of the enemy. This secrecy was maintained for two more days, Mattia in the meantime having been initiated into the mystery of the machine gun. He was allowed by a friendly sergeant to handle the gun and go through the motions of firing it and putting in a fresh string of shells. It was a delight to him.

"On the morning of the third day he was ordered to remain behind in a dugout that had been built. He knew by this that an action was at hand.

"It came about nine o'clock in the morning, when a company of French soldiers came marching down the field in plain view of the Germans, though no Germans were in sight. He did not know that these infantrymen were a decoy, a part of the plan of the French to draw the enemy down within easy range of their machine guns.

"Rifles began to crackle from the Prussian trenches, and to his amazement, after firing a few rounds in reply, the French infantrymen ran for the cover of the brush. He saw the reason for this a moment later when a big troop of German cavalry topped the rise of ground and swept on toward the French, followed by the charging infantry of the Germans."



"Some time since, Mattia had slipped from his dugout. He was determined to miss nothing of what was going on. He saw his own infantrymen take to the communicating trenches and disappear, plainly as a part of the plan.

"Then the machine guns began to play. The mounted German detachment was close upon them before the hidden French machine guns opened up. All down the line to the right he could hear French machine guns pouring their fire into the approaching horsemen. Those who were not killed or who had not fallen wounded from their horses were turned back.

"Mattia, in his excitement, crawled along one side of the communicating trench toward the machine-gun emplacement. He was shocked to see that more than half of his machine-gun crew already were dead or wounded. Now the German artillery, which he could not see, began shelling the French positions. A shell exploded in the trench occupied by his comrades, and Mattia was hurled violently into the communicating trench.

"When the smoke had cleared away Mattia ran forward. The machine gun was silent, though others down the line were very busy. It was a strange sight for a boy to gaze upon. All his comrades were now lying in the trench, either killed or badly wounded.

"The German infantry, in close formation—meaning close together—was coming on steadily. Down the line the French were holding them back, but in Mattia's trench there was no opposition.

"The boy collected his wits, uttered a gasp, then sprang to the silent machine gun. A half-used strip of shells was in the gun and other strips were close at hand.

"Little Mattia began to work the machine gun. He swept the field with it as far as it would reach to the right and the left, sending a rain of bullets into the enemy. Even after the strip was exhausted he kept on working the gun, not realizing that it was out of cartridges. Discovering this finally, he reloaded and began firing again.

"His fire saved the day for the French, because, had Mattia failed to serve the gun, the Germans soon would have broken through the line and that would have lost the battle for the French.

"At last the German line began to waver; it stopped, then began a retreat on the run, followed by the bullets of the machine gunners. Mattia was yelling and whooping as he pumped away with his weapon, elevating its muzzle a little from time to time that he might be sure to reach the fleeing men.

"Shells had been bursting about him all the time and were still bursting.

"The French machine-gun fire from other trenches stopped almost as suddenly as it had begun. Then something happened to little Mattia. Another shell landed in his trench and burst with a deafening explosion. The lad fell forward on his gun and lay still.

"They found him there later, unconscious, badly wounded, his hand still on the trigger of the gun he had worked with such success. He was carried back to the rest billet and thence to a hospital. Everywhere the story of the boy's heroism had preceded him.

"One day as he lay in his cot, now well on the road to recovery, some officers, guided by an orderly, entered the ward where he lay and halted at his cot. The officer in charge of the party, who proved to be a general, made a little speech to the wounded boy, then pinned the Cross of War on his breast and finished by kissing him on both cheeks.

"Mattia had won his reward, and though he would never fight again, he was a happy boy. He had served his country well and had bled for her and had won an honor that comes to few."



CHAPTER XIII

MARIE THE COURAGEOUS

"The Padre and his little niece, an orphan of twelve, lived on the outskirts of a French village that had been taken by the Germans," began Captain Favor, resuming his story telling for the children.

"Marie, for that was her name, was a patriot if there ever was one. Every fibre of her being was for France, and one could see the fires of patriotism flaming in her eyes. That is the sort of patriotism, Joe, that no fear of death can dim."

Joe Funk nodded approvingly. His own patriotism had been stirred by these tales of the heroism of the children of France.

"While the French were in possession of the village in the early days of the war, an officer of that army made his headquarters with the Padre and his niece," continued Captain Favor. "He became very fond of the child. Captain Grivelet was his name and, recognizing in Marie a true patriot, he had explained many things to her about the war, so that, for a child so young, Marie was able to form a very clear idea of the situation of the two armies.

"There were, of course, many army secrets of which Captain Grivelet never spoke. He, too, was a patriot, you see, as he should be. Having asked permission to store some of his personal equipment in the Padre's cellar, they thought nothing of his going down there frequently. Now and then Marie was certain she heard him talking to some one down there.

"One day, after the Prussians had pushed the French back close to the village—this was before the Germans took the village, you understand—Captain Grivelet had a talk with Marie.

"'Marie, knowing that you are French in your heart and soul, I shall confide certain secrets to you. Are you willing to serve your country?'

"'Yes, monsieur le Capitaine. Always, and with my life, if necessary.'

"'Bravely spoken. You may do as your judgment dictates about repeating what I shall tell you to the Padre, your uncle. But for the sake of his safety I should advise that you keep your own secrets. Such secrecy will not bring dishonor upon you, for it is in behalf of your country.'

"'I understand, monsieur. You may trust Marie. She is a loyal French girl and will continue to be so no matter what comes.'

"The captain nodded approvingly.

"'Whether or not we shall be able to hold our lines here seems doubtful. At least we fear the Prussians, in large force as they are, may temporarily drive us back. But it will not be for long. We shall recover our ground. Even now we are entrenching ourselves to the rear. When that time comes, Marie, you and the Padre will be in peril, for the French probably will have to shell the village. We hope it may not come to that. What I would ask you is, do you and your uncle wish to go to the rear while there is yet time, so you may be safe?'

"'There is reason for believing, monsieur le Capitaine, that Marie may be of use to her beloved France here?' she questioned.

"'Yes; that is what I would say.'

"'It is not necessary to ask, monsieur.'

"'You will understand that it is better that I do not speak to the Padre, your uncle. You may do so, and you will the better be able to judge how to speak to him, though as I already have advised, for the sake of his safety he should not be involved. You will not be afraid, Marie?'

"'No, monsieur.'

"'It is well. You have seen me go to the cellar, many times, where I store my equipment. This equipment I shall remove today, but in the cellar you will find—'

"At this instant a shell landed in the street and exploded with a roar. It was followed by other shells that swept on to the rear and fell beyond the village. A bugle somewhere down the street blew insistently. The captain sprang to his feet.

"'Marie, I shall see you later. I am called. You will be prudent and be careful of your life?'

"'Yes, monsieur.'

"The captain hurried out and that was the last the brave little French girl heard of him for some time afterward. All day the battle raged and shells fell in the village, many times the Padre's house being showered with bursting shrapnel and shell splinters. It was a stout little stone house and withstood this storm of steel, save as now and then a splinter from a shell tore through the blinds and imbedded itself in the wall.

"In the meantime Marie had gone out, unmindful of the danger, to fetch her uncle home. The Padre was in his church, but Marie made him come home. Reaching there, she said:

"'My uncle, the Germans may come and we shall be in their power. Is it your wish to remain here or to go to the rear where you will be safe?'

"'I shall remain here, my child. Perhaps it would be well for you to go to the rear and be under the protection of the French, for the Prussians are beasts!'

"'With your permission, my uncle, I shall stay here with you. I shall not leave you.'

"It is well. If the Prussians come I shall speak with them, and perhaps they will leave the Padre and his niece to themselves. But they shall not make us Prussians; we shall still be loyal to our beloved France.'

"'Yes, uncle, but it will be well that you have a care as to what you say and do. Please heed what Marie says, for she knows whereof she speaks.'

"All that day the battle raged and the Padre and Marie remained in their home, except now and then when the child went out to watch the progress of the battle, for their house was on high ground commanding an excellent view of the battlefield. The field, however, was so covered with smoke that few of the details of what was going on out there were observable.

"With darkness the battle still continued. Later on there was rifle fire in the street, and, acting upon the Padre's suggestion, uncle and niece took refuge in their cellar, for the bullets were beginning to spatter on the walls within the house.

"It was near daylight when the firing died down, whereupon the Padre and Marie came upstairs and went to bed for a few hours' sleep.

"They were rudely awakened by a violent pounding on the door. It was Marie who sprang up at the sound and who opened the door. Confronting her was a German soldier, armed with a rifle. The girl did not quail.

"'Is this the Padre's home?' he demanded gruffly.

"'It is.'

"'The Prussians are now in control of this village and the inhabitants will govern themselves accordingly. We shall search your house. Then, if you behave yourselves, you will be permitted to remain here and to go out in the daytime, as usual. All food that is asked for by the soldiers shall be given to them without question, but any attempt to communicate with the enemy, the slightest disobedience of the orders of the commander, will be punished by death.'

"The soldier beckoned to several other soldiers who were in the background and ordered them to search the house. This they did with thoroughness. Marie had forgotten about the equipment of Captain Grivelet in the cellar, but it was brought home to her with a shock when the searchers came up bearing the stuff the French officer had left. The soldier in charge eyed the Padre and his niece sternly. He demanded to know to whom this equipment belonged.

"Marie very frankly told him that an officer had requested permission to leave the equipment there, and had slept in the house. Beyond that she knew nothing, nor did she know what his luggage contained.

"'I shall report this to my commander. I know not what he will do, but giving aid to the enemy is a serious matter,' he warned. Then the soldiers went away. That day neither the Padre nor Marie left the house. Late in the afternoon an officer entered and questioned them sharply, finally leaving, apparently satisfied with their answers. The two were not disturbed again.

"Next day the Padre went to his church and Marie went out to do her marketing. She was unmolested, though soldiers frequently spoke to her jokingly, to all of which she smiled and made some bright reply.

"That night as she sat thinking in her room in the dark, her conversation with Captain Grivelet suddenly came back to her. He had been about to tell her something of importance, something that he wished her to do for her people.

"'The cellar!' exclaimed the child.

"Snatching up a candle, she hurried below and holding the light above her head, surveyed the low-ceilinged cellar keenly.

"'I see nothing,' murmured the girl. 'But surely there is something here. It could not have been in the equipment that the Germans carried away with them, for they searched the Captain's belongings and found nothing. That I plainly saw with my own eyes.'

"Marie gave up her quest and, returning to her room, went to bed. The greater part of the night she lay awake, disturbed now and then by vollies of rifle shots, which she interpreted with a shudder. Some of her neighbors were meeting a terrible fate, a fate that yet might be hers or her uncle's, or both.

"On the following morning, after a soldier had visited their home and again searched it, Marie, still troubled by her failure to find that which the French captain had started to confide in her, locked the door after the Padre's departure for his church, and once more went to the cellar.

"This time her search was thorough, but she discovered nothing. Sitting down in the middle of the cellar, with her candle placed on the floor at one side, she gazed about her. A shadow cast by the candlelight on the cellar wall seemed to make it appear that one of the stones projected outward further than the others.

"Marie got up to examine the stone. Closer examination verified this surmise. She uttered a little exclamation when, upon taking hold of the stone, it moved. Marie pulled and the stone came out easily.

"'Oh!' cried the child.

"There, before her eyes, tucked into the opening, was a telephone. The child stared at it with wide open eyes. This, plainly, was what the French captain wished to tell her about when he was interrupted by the bugle summons and called away to a service from which he did not return. But what was it that he wished her to do with the telephone?

"'I have it!' she cried exultingly. 'It was that he wished the little Marie to tell him what the Prussians were doing. At last the way is opened for her to serve her country. But—' The child, with a wisdom beyond her years, knew what the penalty would be if she were discovered. 'I care not. If I shall have served my France I can die with a brave heart!'

"Taking the telephone in her hands—hands that did not even tremble, Marie called a soft 'hello!' There was no response. Again and again she tried, but without result. Finally the child gave it up and went back upstairs.

"The thought of the telephone drew her again to the cellar. Again she called her soft 'hello.'

"The answer came back in French with a suddenness that nearly caused her to drop the telephone.

"'Who is speaking?' she asked in as firm a voice as she could summon.

"'Whom do you wish?'

"'I would speak with Captain Grivelet'

"'He is not here. I cannot reach him.'

"'It is important. Find him and tell him that the little Marie would speak with him. Tell him to come at ten o'clock this evening and Marie will be here at the telephone. He will understand.'

"Marie put back the telephone and carefully closed the opening. Now she had a distinct mission to perform, and, throwing a scarf over her head, she went out to the street. Marie was very bright of face and very friendly with the German soldiers. No obstacle was placed in the way of her going where she liked. That day she used her eyes and ears to good advantage and they saw and heard many things. What especially interested her was the massing of German troops in the forest to the west of the village. She heard of this through a conversation between two officers. There also was great activity behind the lines. There the Germans were building entrenchments, which she could plainly see from the windows of her home.

"The child knew that what she had observed was important, but just how important, of course, she could not know.

"Promptly at ten o'clock that night, after the Padre had gone fast asleep, Marie hastened to the cellar and again called over the telephone. Captain Grivelet was quickly summoned.

"'It is the little Marie speaking,' she called excitedly.

"'My brave child,' answered the captain. 'I knew you would find the way. We are defeated, but not for long, for the French are being reinforced and are angry. Can you safely go out into the street tomorrow and then let me know what they are doing?'

"'I already have been out, monsieur le Capitaine, and I have seen.'

"'I beg of you to be careful. You are in great peril. If the Boches discover that you are in communication with us they will shoot you.'

"'I fear them not. But I must hasten. Listen!' Marie then told the captain all that she had learned, interrupted frequently by exclamations of approval from the officer at the other end.

"'Wait!' she called. 'Hold, for I hear movement above.'

"A few minutes later Marie returned to the telephone. 'Down in the middle of the village are many soldiers. I know not why they are gathering there, but I think perhaps they may be going to shoot some of our noble Frenchmen.'

"'Down by the square?' questioned the captain.

"'Yes.'

"'Put away your telephone and go to the floor above. Watch the square and you shall see what the French gunners can do. The people are in their houses?'

"'Yes, monsieur, they dare not go out at night. It is forbidden.'

"'Good! Do as I have directed, and go no more to the telephone until tomorrow night at this time, unless something of importance develops, then call for me. I shall leave orders to be summoned immediately.'

"Not fully understanding what the captain was about to do, the child hastened upstairs and, opening the door slightly, peered down the street.

"It was at this moment that a giant shell from a French battery exploded fairly in the middle of the square, with a terrific shock and roar. It was followed by several other heavy explosions. Then silence settled over the night.

"This silence, however, did not last for long. The forest in which so many German troops were being massed was bombarded all through the night, as were the entrenchments to the rear of the village where the enemy was busily engaged in fortifying themselves.

"The child shuddered. She was troubled.

"'It is for France that I have done this,' she said to comfort herself. 'Already the Prussians have killed many here, and for what? For nothing save that they are French. It is terrible.'

"On the following day Marie picked up further information. She also learned that the Germans had suffered heavily from the previous night's bombardment, and that they were amazed at the exact information possessed by the French.

"Each night the child spoke with the French captain over the telephone, and each night the French obtained information of great value to them. Though Marie did not know it, the Germans had by this time satisfied themselves that some one in the village was communicating with the French forces, and a careful watch was being kept on every inhabitant of the place. Marie, all ignorant of this, continued to keep the French informed of the movements of the enemy.

"One night, after a day of heavy fighting on both sides, during which the Germans had been slowly pushed back, Marie was giving Captain Grivelet her report of the operations on the German side for that day. She had communicated everything down to the smallest detail and was just replacing the telephone in its niche when she thought she heard a sound behind her. Marie turned quickly.

"The child's head grew dizzy; she nearly fainted with fright, for there, gazing sternly at her, stood a Prussian officer.

"'So! This is it?'

"Marie did not answer. She could not.

"'For this you shall be shot. Stand back. Give me that telephone!'

"Snatching it from her hands he got the French headquarters, though he did not know to whom he was speaking.

"'Speaking to you is a Prussian major,' he said in French. 'He has just discovered why the French have been so fully informed. The spy who has thus informed you is the Padre's niece. She dies tonight!'

"With that the major wrenched the telephone from its wires and ripped the wires out, leaving the outside wires, that were underground, for his engineers to destroy. Marie, eyes now flashing, was led from her home and taken to the office of the general commanding the operations there. Soon after her arrival her uncle came, in charge of two soldiers. Then the examination began. Not one bit of information would the girl give. At last the commanding officer turned to the Padre.

"'It is my belief that you are responsible for this spying. It is not my wish to shoot a Padre, but you shall be taken out and shot immediately!'

"'No, no, no!' cried Marie, now thoroughly aroused. 'He knows nothing of what has been done. I swear it, monsieur! It is Marie who has informed the French of what the hated Prussians were doing. I—'

"'Ah! You admit it! It is well. Take her away. Take the Padre away also, but keep them separated.'

"Marie left the commander with head erect and eyes flashing. Her only concern was for her uncle, whom she feared would be shot. She had no doubts about herself Of course, they would shoot her and she gloried in the thought that she was to die for France.

"After her departure the Prussian general devoted several minutes to deep thought.

"'Of course, Herr General, she will be shot,' said the major who had made the capture.

"'No!' answered the commander, with emphasis.

"'Not shot?' questioned the officer in amazement.

"'No. She shall be sent to the camp at Metz and imprisoned for the duration of the war. The Padre also shall be sent to the rear and held during the rest of the war.'

"'Herr General, may I ask why, when both should be executed without delay?'

"'Because, major, I dislike to put a Padre to death, and further, I am satisfied that the girl told the truth when she said that he knew nothing of this affair. He is a simple-minded man. But the girl!' The general shrugged his shoulders like a Frenchman. 'She is keen as a new saber.'

"'And knowing well what she was doing she should be shot,' insisted the major.

"'I have a daughter of her age,' replied the general, slowly. 'This child is so like her that I should feel like murdering my own were I to order her shot. Major, I cannot do it. See that my orders are carried out. I shall explain my action in this matter to my superiors for their approval.'

"That ended it. It was an unusual thing for a Prussian to do and perhaps the only instance in the war where so much human sympathy was shown to a spy. Marie was taken to the prison at Metz, where she was kept from that time on. She suffered great hardships. There was little food and her treatment was harsh, so that her days were a misery and her nights a nightmare.

"A long time elapsed ere Captain Grivelet learned, through the Red Cross, what had become of the child. His sorrow had been keen, for he believed that she had been executed. The Padre was still in a prison camp the last I heard of the case. I hope the beautiful little patriot and her uncle may be reunited some day. But Marie has served her country nobly and if she ever comes back she will be splendidly rewarded by her government," said the captain, in conclusion.



CHAPTER XIV

CONCLUSION

"My dear children," said Captain Favor, "there are not many more things to tell you. I knew of one brave little French lad who was mortally wounded, when the Germans took the town in which he lived and shot many of the inhabitants.

"The little fellow I refer to refused the aid of the German surgeon, declaring that he preferred to die rather than to accept the aid of a hated Prussian.

"Another child lost his life for his refusal to tell a German commander in which direction a detachment of French troops had gone. He did this with full knowledge of what would happen to him if he refused this information. Death were preferable to betraying his own people.

"The full story of the deeds of heroism of the children of France never will be fully told. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of incidents such as I have described to you, that have occurred over there.

"These deeds, this spirit of patriotism and self-sacrifice should be a great lesson to us in America, whether we be young or old. You children who are growing up have a grave responsibility to help your fellows make patriotism a part of their lives. I know you will do, with the lesson of the French children in mind, all you can. America has need of patriotism, and she will have need of more in the years to come. Start something, boys and girls, and keep the fires of patriotism burning."

"We will!" cried the children, with Joe Funk's voice heard above all the rest.

"Perhaps one of these days I shall have some other stories to tell you. I think I have told you enough stories to last for some time. I have told you only such little stories as I know to be true, and here we will stop. Come in to see me any time you feel like it. I shall go to New York in a few days to see a big, big surgeon who thinks perhaps he may put my leg in shape so that I shall walk as well as ever."

"Then, then," said Joe, "I'll bet that you will be going back to the army."

"I'll bet you win, Joe," answered the captain, laughingly. "For the present, au revoir."

THE END