Part 6 (1/2)

”Yess,” said Frenchy with great satisfaction. ”Zat is how eet is--you will understand. My pappa cannot go. Zis is hees _home_. So he stay--stay under ze Zhermans. Ah! For everything, _everything_, we must pay ze tax. Five hundred soldiers, zey keep, _always_--in zis little village--and only seven hundred people. Ziss is ze way. Ugh! Even ze name zey change--Dundgart! Ugh!”

”I don't like it as well as Lethure,” said matter-of-fact Tom.

Frenchy laughed at Tom's p.r.o.nunciation. ”Zis is how you say--Le-teur.

See? I will teach you ze French.”

”How did you happen to come to America?” Tom asked.

”Ah! I will tell you,” Frenchy said, as a grim, dangerous look gathered in his eyes. ”You are--how many years, my frien'!”

”I'm seventeen,” said Tom.

”One cannot tell wiz ze Americans,” Frenchy explained. ”Zey grow so queeck--so beeg. In Europe, zey haf' nevaire seen anyzing like zis--zis army,” he added, indicating with a sweeping wave of his hand the groups of lolling, joking soldiers.

”They make fun of you a lot, don't they?”

”Ah, zat I do not mind.”

”Maybe that's why they all like you.”

”I will tell you,” said Frenchy, reverting to Tom's previous question.

”I am zhust ze same age as you--sefenteen--when zey throw my seester in ze zhail because she sing ze Ma.r.s.ellaise. Zat I cannot stand! You see?--When ze soldiers--fat Zhermans, ugh! When zey come for her, I strike zis fat one--here--so.”

”I'm glad you did,” said Tom.

”Hees eye I cut open, _so_. Wiz my fist--zhust boy's fist, but so sharp.”

”I don't blame you,” said Tom.

”So zen I must flee. Even to be rude to ze Zherman soldier--zis is crime. So I come to Americ'. Zey are looking for me, but I go by night, I sleep in ze haystack--zis I show. (He exhibited a little iron b.u.t.ton with nothing whatever upon it.) You see? Zis is--what you call--talisman. Yess?

”So I come to Epinal across ze border, through ze pa.s.s in ze mountains.

I am free! I go to my uncle in Canada who is agent to our wines. Zen I come to Chicago, where I haf' other uncle--also agent. Now I go to France wiz ze Americans to take Alsace back. What should I care if they laugh at me? We go to take Alsace back! Alsace!--Listen--I will tell you!

”Vive la France!

A bas la Prusse!

D'Schwowe mien Zuem Elsa.s.s 'nuess!

See if you can say zis,” he smiled.

Tom shook his head.

”I will tell you--see.

”Long live France!

Down with Prussia!