Part 13 (1/2)

”It'll come, it's bound to come some time,” he cried, evidently pursuing a favourite theme. ”And we'll like it all the better for having waited so long.”

Monsieur Laurent has firm faith in the immediate business future.

”_Voila_! all we've got to do is to lay Germany out flat. Even then the economical struggle that will follow the war will be terrible,” he prophesies. ”The French must come to the fore with all the resources of their national genius. As to myself, I have my own idea on the subject.”

We were fairly drinking in his words.

”You've all doubtless seen the sign that I put up in my window?”

We acquiesced.

”Well, it was that sign that opened my eyes.”

I was all attention by this time, for I distinctly remembered the above mentioned sign. It had puzzled and amused me immensely. Painted in brilliant letters, it ran as follows:

_EXCEPTIONAL BARGAIN:_

_For men having their left foot amputated and wearing size No. 9.

3 shoes for the right foot--two black and one tan; excellent quality, almost like new.

For sale, or exchange for shoes belonging to the left foot. Must be of same quality and in like condition._

”I haven't yet made any special effort to ascertain whether there are more amputations of the left than of the right foot,” continued Monsieur Laurent; ”I suppose it's about equal. Well, my plan is just this. As soon as there's peace I'm going to set up shop on the rue St.

Antoine, or the Place de la Bastille. I'll call it 'A la botte de l'ampute,' and I sell my shoes separately instead of in pairs. There's a fortune in it inside of five years.”

”Just hear him raving,” sighed his wife. ”You know well enough, Laurent, that just so soon as the war is over we're going to sell out, and with the money, your pension, and what we've saved up, we'll go out to the Parc St. Maur, buy a little cottage and settle down. I'll raise a few chickens and some flowers, and you can go fis.h.i.+ng in the Seine all day long.”

”But the economical struggle?”

”You let the economical struggle take care of itself. Now, with your mad idea, just suppose those who had a right foot all wanted tan shoes, and those who had a left couldn't stand anything but black? I'd like to know where you'd be then? Stranger things than that have happened.”

Laurent gazed at his wife in admiration.

”With all your talk about the future, it seems to me we've been down here a long time since that last explosion.”

One woman looked for her husband but could not find him. The Rembrandt Christhead had also disappeared.

A tall fifteen year old lad who stood near the door informed us that they had slipped out to see.

”So has Germain.”

”Then you come here! Don't you dare leave me,” scolded the mother.

”Can you just see something happening to him with his father out there in the trenches?”

Monsieur Neu and two other men soon followed suit.

The big boy who had so recently been admonished managed to crawl from beneath his mother's gaze and make his escape.

”If ever I catch him, he'll find out what my name is,” screamed the excited woman, das.h.i.+ng after him into the darkness.