Autumn Glory; Or, The Toilers of the Field

ineau at Saint Jean-de-Mont, a tall, lean man, with thighs as flat as his cheeks, replaced Jean Nesmy, and slept in the room beyond the stable. Marie-Rose

ented her from thinking of the past; and in all her movements was displa

idened out, were fastened the two boats belonging to La Fromentière. In the shallow water he would scatter his supply of corn or buck-wheat, and from across the meadows drakes with blue-tinted wings, ducks, grey, with a double notch cut on the right side of their beaks to mark them as belonging t

old pleasure in punting. It can but be good for him and for us all." But to Mathurin, to Rousille, to his man, to the passers-by, sometimes even to his oxen, often when alone to himse

ly seven. I will drive to Chalo

said Rousille, "he used to be so fond

in the punt with him the first

I shall have to send him to you, Mathurin. And what a change it will make in the house to have a chatterbox among us." Then she added, with the grave air of one entrusted with t

id the father, as

his return were incessantly recapitulated by one and the other in the living-room of La Fromentière,

ad been withheld from him. For they could not tell how he would take the absence of his favourite brother, his childhood's companion; it would be better to break the news to him gently, when he should have come back to France, back to his home. Soon a letter came, bearing the Algiers postmark, giving from day to day the itinerary

ound head, white hair, and clear eyes of Toussaint Lumineau himself. He, harnessing the mare, looked so joyous and happy, that Rousille, who had not heard him laugh for many a day, as she watched him from the doorway, felt her eyes fill with tears, she knew not wherefore, as though it were the return of spring. The la

!" and the dog, all excitement, had dashed after La Rousse in ungainly gallop. Soon they had reached Chalons. Without slackening speed, the farmer drove through the streets, responding to the greeting of the landlord of the Hotel des Voyageurs, and nicely marking by th

king after

Well, poor fellow, he has had plenty of trou

omentière. He had not long to wait. The train dashed into the station with a whistle; the farmer was still quieting the mare, terrified by the noise, when the passengers came thronging out: townspeople, men-of-war's men on leave, fishmongers from Sa

what luck,

, saw the two men embrace each other wit

imed the old man.

too,

py as I am! If

t, t

, my Driot, the joy

The young soldier adjusted his collar, and restored

rtant, perhaps? You will tell me by degrees at La Fromentière, while we are at work. Ev

ing towards the tilbury, one on either side, they swung th

from the station. Those who had exchanged greetings with the farmer on his way to the train, and many others, watched to see the two men pass by; clear-starchers looking out as they ironed; the little dressmaker from Nantes who came at the beginning of each season to take orders from her ladies at Chalons; shopkeepers standing at their

lad! How well his blue tunic suits him

edge shedding its leaves on the road, the old man plunged his big hand into his pocket and nu

a few puffs, as the gorse-covered slopes, golden with blossom, the stony fields, the crown-topped elms, came in sight, bringing wi

me-folks, fathe

seat and looked away towards the landscape, distressed at having to tell the tr

"we have only Mathurin a

?ois, whe

yesterday he left La Fromentière to work on the railway at La Roche. Eléonore w

he cigar from his mouth and looking straight at his father. "Th

His Driot understood him; his Driot was at one

.. ungrateful, both of them, leaving their old father ... and then you know that Fran?oi

se the wheels of a railway carriage, or serve out drink! Well, everyone goes his own way in this world. All the better for them if

y intent on the twitching of the mare's deli

ng badly with u

, my boy. But they won't

scanning the horizon for a slate-covered clock tower and certain tree-tops no

on leave, very taking, and with a will of her own! You cannot imagine how often I used to think of

bad," replie

She is not the sort to tur

ertain

sloping ground, the Marais of La Vendée opening out like a gulf. He had only been home once before in his three years of service; with growing emotion he gazed upon the groups of poplars and tiny re

laimed. "What has becom

h; he is in

n?onnière, who was in t

ran?ois; is conductor o

e Perrocheau

truth, it was aggravating to be obliged constantly to answ

e; then he obtained further promotion, and was given some post, I don't know where,

distinguish their wind-mill. Tell me, father, there were two of my playfellows there, so

saint Luminea

They are fine fellows who do not mind hard work; y

ppy laugh the yo

h. Sundays were rather a favourite day for our chiefs to hold reviews ... they don't look at things as you do. But you see

then,

. With a simultaneous movement father and son had risen and were standing almost upright, one hand on

collections of his childhood awoke and called aloud to him; there was not a hillock that did not greet him, not a furze-bush, not

re Driot replied, after a silence, and wit

I will ... but brotherhood is not altogether the

to the very depth of her eyes, with the gaze of a brother whose military experience has made him somewhat suspicious of maidenly virtue; but

! That's good; but a little sor

an see

now. We will try to get

ut in a th

ned to Mathurin who was coming towar

must do the running for

here all was young, active, alert, he could not hide the distress and a certain feeling of horror with which Mathurin's infirmity inspired him. Howe

ad to find you like this. So

oulders, the cripple a

and as firmly as I did three years ago, when I thought I was getting well ..

The men, one following the other, turned towards the house, and went in; but on this happy day it was the farmer who held back, and the returned son who went first. Alert, interested as on a first visit,

ength of the massive stones; opened the cupboard, cut himself a slice of bread, and tasted it, with a, "Better than the

thurin, and Marie-Rose, he went from

ow these oxe

ht them last winter

. This dun-coloured one, that does not look great shakes, is

answered

save to put on more horn and muscle. The plough ought to wor

g voice that called to them, thrust out their heads, an

ing down, he took up a

he said. "This must have come from

N

ere not a grain is lost.

fields, everything, so happy was he that the last of his

is round, and when in the shed affected not to see the traps for blackbirds, made by Fran?ois the preceding winter. In the

n I could have believed, Rousille, not to find Fran

the future of La Fromentière assured. When they had re-entered the general sitting-

thing that you will not be sorry t

his uniform, and his father's indirect mode of inviting him to change to c

the waxing of his moustache, and adjusting the brim of his hat, adorned his button-hole with a sprig of jasmine; then going the length of the house, opened the kitchen door, and there, framed

re, but not so completely my very own as now," then added: "Now come, and we will drink to your he

y gloomy. When the glasses were filled, he raised his wi