A Feast of Stories from Foreign Lands

Front matter

" ' Show it here ! ordered the Officer. The Black and Yellow Rosette. A Feast of Stories FROM Foreign Lands BY JAMES F. COBB, F.R.G.S. .4uthor of ' Tlie Watchers' on the Longships,' &c. XonOon : WELLS GARDNER, DARTON, & CO 3 PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.C., And 44 VICTORIA STREET, WESTMINSTER, S.W. CONTENTS. PAGE Tu- Colporteur of thk Pyrrnees ... 1 (From the French). A Journey throt/gh the Air .... 67 The Black and Yellow Rosette . . . .77 (From the German). The Railway Signalman and his Family . . 89 (From the Flemish of Conscience). Jos^phat, the Indian Prince. . . . .149 (From the German). The Yellow Serpent . . . . . .210 (From the French). Poor Jacob . . . . . . .216 The Serfs Contents. PAGE Martin and Walter ...... 260 A Story of the Siege of Strasburg. (From the German of Vollmar). Claudie, the Plasterer ...... 293 A True Story of a Brave Girl. The Timely Pardon 300 A True Story of War-Time. How Lorenzo paid his Debt. . . . .311 A Tale of the St. Gothard Tunnel.

Chapter I. The Colporteur's First Journey

Mountain regions often contain more inhabitants than the soil is able to support ; many are, therefore, obliged to seek in other countries those means of existence which their native land refuses to bestow on them. The district of Saint Gaud ens, in the department of Haute Garonne, is extremely mountainous ; the lower valleys, which alone produce maize and contain meadows, are nar row and confined. The inhabitants, therefore, devote them selves much to colportage — that is, the business of a pedler or hawker. More than 20,000 leave their homes every year and go, with bags on their backs, from village to village, to offer for sale to the peasants, cheap jewellery, haberdashery, books, stamps, writing-paper, tapes, hooks and eyes, string, wooden spoons and bowls, and handker chiefs. Some buy rabbit-skins and rags; others mend chairs, and the kitchen utensils of small households.

These trades are generally carried on by grown-up men or vigorous lads, who know how to write and cipher, and have experience enough to foresee danger, and are strong enough to resist it when it comes upon theni unawares. Sometimes, however, it is a child who enters this hazardous career, knowing little of the perils of life, and the snares of the cunning ; poor boys of from eight to ten years of ago frequently travel alone, fifty or sixty loagues away from their families. Every place, except their native village, is for them an unknown region. These poor lonely wan derers have to guard their goods themselves, to sell them at the right price ; to be careful not to mistake their road. and to scheme how to procure each day their food and lodging. B One day I was passing near the town of Mirande, where I spent my childhood.

Suddenly a boy, placing himself before me, opened a large box which was fastened round his neck by a cord, and offered me matches and pins for sale. I smiled at first, I was about to refuse and pass on, when the confident air of the little colporteur, and his eager eyes, moved me with pity and sympathy. ' Where do you come from, my boy ? ' I asked him. 'From Cierp, near Saint Gaudens,' he rephed, fixing his large blue eyes on me. ' What is your name ? ' ' Pierrette Ardisan, at your service.' ' Where are your father and mother ? ' ' At home ; they are putting in the spring seed.' ' Why have you left them just at the working time ?' ' My three sisters take my place. They are good, and very pretty little girls, my sisters. The Cure chose all three of them to walk at the head of the Procession.

Claire carries the banner, Suzanne the right-hand ribbon, and Marianne the left.' ' How old are your sisters ? ' 'Claire is nine, Marianne eight, and Suzanne seven.' ' And here you are, quite alone, thirty leagues from your family ? ' ' No, sir, I have my brother with me.' ' Your brother is tall and strong, I suppose ? He can give you protection in case of need.' ' Oh, well, sir, he is eight. I was ten last Lady-day ; we don't want any one to take care of us,' said the little mountaineer, drawing himself up with a resolute air. ' You are ten. and he is eight ! Here are travellers, indeed, who can be of great help to each other ! ' ' Certainly, sir ; if one of us is ill, the other will mtike him some Tisane.' * ' And where is your little brother, now ? ' ' Three leagues from here, at Nicelan, my good sir.' ' Why do you separate thus, instead of travelling together ? ' ' In order to sell our wares better.

By going to different points we avoid interfering with each other, and our trade goes on better. But we don't remain long apart ; * A decoction of herbs much used by the French as medicine. we meet every four days. Three days ago we were at Castlenau. "Jeanton," I said, for my brother's name is Jeanton—" go by Tire and Nicelan, you will meet me at Mirande ; I shall go another road." Now this tour is made, we shall meet to-day.' ' Shall you travel much longer ? ' ' We have been on the road since Ascension-tide ; we shall not return home till the St. Bernard ' (20th August). ' That makes three months' absence.' ' Yes, sir. This first journey is meant for us to try our hands at the work. We shan't go this time further than Agen to the north, and Pau in the direction of the sea.' ' Who has taught you geography so well ?

How is it that you don't lose your way with your litttle brother in a country that you have never seen ? ' ' That is very simple, good sir. My father, who has the whole of Gascony on the tips of his fingers, has fixed all our stages beforehand, all our places of meeting. These are Castlenau, Mirande, Auch, Lectoure, Leyrac, Agen, and so on to the 24th ; thus, at four days for each stage, twenty-four stages make ninety-six days. This is the length which our first journey is to be. In each of these towns we shall find an inn where our father has friends ; we shall make ourselves known as his sons, by this little red cross which has been tattooed upon our left arm.' And the boy, pulling up his sleeve, showed me the mark. ' In this inn,' he added, ' they will show us two roads, which will lead us to the next stage ; my brother will take one of these, I the other.

This is the kind of life which we begin afresh every day : but it is very amusing. What a number of Church towers, how many villages and houses, have we seen already ! To the towns we only go as to our meeting-places ; it is in the country, where there are no shops, that we make most money.' ' But what would happen to you unfortunate children if you were overtaken by a storm, or attacked by a great dog ? ' ' Ah, sir, yrou are very simple in those things. A glance at the sky shows one if rain is about to fall, and wo generally have time to reach the next house. We can always too find some place of shelter — never under trees, because they attract the lightning. Here is one advantage in being little, a small space can shelter a child.' ' But you can't avoid dogs so easily, and you do not even carry a club to defend yourself.' ' A club !

Not so f oolish as that, sir. If a beggar is bitten, it is his stick's fault. Have you never seen a great mountain-dog run after a little one ? He looks as if he would swallow it in one mouthful. You tremble for the little animal, seeing the fury of the big one. Bah ! the little dog lowers his head, puts down his ears, and squeezes his tail between his legs ; then the big dog smells and licks the little one, and they finish by playing and running together, like good friends. We are tho littlo dogs, sir ; far from showing our teeth to excite the big dog, and make him bite us, we creep quietly away by the walls and hedges. We call the dog in a gentle voice ; we stretch out our hand to caress him, and he comes to lick us and play with us. My brother and I fear neither the dogs nor the storm, I assure you.

We go quietly through the country — he on his side, I on mine — selling our wares. This is the life of a colporteur. Every fourth day we meet and talk over what has happened, we inquire about the road wo have to take, and count up our money. I need not tell you that it is I who keep the purse.' ' Do you gain much in your trade ? ' I asked Pier rette. ' Fifteen or twenty sous each a day. You see we have everything. Look at my shop, how well stocked it is ! ' Then the child displayed with pride all his wares, and suddenly changing his tone, assuming the accent and tone of a seller who wishes to attract a purchaser, he exclaimed to me. — ' White ribbons and black ribbons ! white silk and black silk ! white horn buttons ! ' ' And black horn buttons,' I added, smiling. ' Yes, sir; black horn, pins, sewing-needles and knitting needles ! ' ' Etcetera, etcetera,' I said, to stop his long list of names. ' Let us see — how much remains to you of your fifteen or twenty sous a day when you have paid for your board and lodging ? ' ' We are little, sir; it is not more fatiguing for us to walk along with this box round our necks than to work in the fields at home ; so we live on four sous' worth of bread a day ; the fountain supplies water to every one, and the good God gives us the sun for nothing : as to our hed, tho straw of a stable scarcely costs us more than a dozen pins, given to the ostler of the inn.' ' What !' I exclaimed, ' dry bread and water during the da)-, and straw to sleep on at night ! ' ' We don't require more to be strong and well.

We can say our evening prayers well enough beside a manger, which makes us think of the stable at Bethlehem, as my brother says ; and then you should see how well we sleep through all the noise of the horses crunching the straw, and the cocks crowing to salute the dawn. Well, subtract ing four sous from fifteen or twenty, we still have ten to fifteen of profits, which make twenty to thirty sous for both of us ; so at each stage we can make up a piece of five francs. Yes, sir, a beautiful round white shining piece, which gives us so much pleasure. As soon as we get it we run to the Church to say an " Our Father ;" and thank the good God ; we pray Him to be pleased with the conduct of the little colporteurs.' 'How many such round pieces have you in your purse?' I asked the boy. ' Not one, sir ; not so foolish as to keep money on me, which might be lost or stolen ! for there are thieves in stables, as well as in the streets on great fair-days.

Every time I have my hundred sous I take them to the Post Office; the master gives me a little printed paper, on which he has written the sum ; I put it into one of the envelopes which my father gave me, all ready stamped and addressed to him at Cierp; I put it into the box, and the paper takes to our house a five-franc piece. I have already sent five pieces ; and do you know that one piece each stage, makes twenty-four pieces in the journey, and that twentyr-four pieces are worth one hundred and twenty francs ? That will be well indeed for the first excursion of two Uttle boys, whose age added together is not more than eighteen years.' I was quite astonished at so much foresight and cleverness in so young a boy. ' Our trade will be better still in a few years, ' added Pierrette; ' we shall be stronger, more used to travel ling : our father will give us a double pack.

We shall add to our haberdashery, Almanacks and Limoges prints — you know those large, red, yellow, and blue pictures, with the battles of the Emperor on some, and religious stories, on others. We carry them on our backs all spread out, which makes children run after us. As children and women cannot read, we toll them the story, so as to induce them to buy. I know many of them already. I have had much pleasure in talking to you, kind sir. It has reminded me of my home, my parents, and my little sisters. Alas ! the day after to-morrow is the fete, and I shall not see them carry the banner. It is the only sorrow which troubles my journey. But this is the hour when Jeanton ought to arrive from Nicelan. Good-bye, sir, I must run to meet him.' The little colporteur went away, pleased at the large packet of pins I had bought from him.

In the evening I saw him again ; he was walking in the town with his brother. What joy upon their faces ! Jeanton was no longer alone ; he had found a travelling companion — who helped him to bear more easily the absence of his brother, he had got a little dog. The children of the village had thrown the dog into the water, to punish him for some mischief he had done. Jeanton was present, and as soon as the cruel boys had gone away, he jumped into the water and saved the dog, who followed him. The two boys were wild with joy. They showed me in triumph a beautiful white five-franc piece, which they were just taking to the post. I ran after them. ' Stop, my friends ! stop ! ' I cried. ' Here is another five-franc piece which I want to accompany yours ; they will travel bettor together.' They wished to refuse, for their parents had charged them to avoid begging, and my offer appeared to them like an act of charity ; but when I told them the joy it would give to their mother and little sisters, they con sented to take a post-office order for ten francs.

These children filled me with admiration. It is cheering to see the efforts of simple hearts thus struggling against the difficulties of life, and triumphing over their poverty and ignorance by the force of common sense, perseverance and honesty.

Chapter II. The Monkey And

TnE LITTLE DOO. Once more a happy chance brought me again upon the route of the little colporteurs. I was at Toulouse at the time of the festival of flowers, when one day I perceived, sitting on a stone, a well-known beggar of the town. The poor boy was deaf and dumb, and possessed nothing by which to gain his bread, except his Uttle monkey and its tricks. Dressed in his military coat, and feathered cap, the simple country people woidd stand and stare in amaze ment at the animal. Jacques went through the streets at the end of a string, which his master held, climbing from window to window, sometimes up to some high balcony, or passing, by the aid of the cornices, from house to house ; now running after the passers-by in the street, pulling them by their coat-tails and showing them his box, open and empty, with an air which seemed to say, ' A little sou, if you please.' Jacques, noticed by all for his clever tricks, succeeded in tolerably well filling the purse of the poor child of the mountains.

He did not come from the Pyrenees, but from the Alps. The little Savoyard, aged twelve or thirteen years, was alone at Toulouse ; alone, 200 leagues from his country, from his parents, shaU I say ? perhaps he has neither father nor mother, for the poor deaf and dumb boy cannot relate to anyone the story of his misfortunes. One day Jacques died. I found the p lor boy holding his lifeless body on his knees, and weeping as only a child does weep, when he loses the one object of his love. We all gave liberally — bread, pieces of money, clothes ; but the poor, desolate little fellow did not take the bread, he turned away his eyes from those Uttle sous, which his monkey would have put into his pocket with his little black paw. A woman of the neighbourhood wished to take him to her house, but he clung to the stone, always looking at the cold monkey with its limbs stiffened by death.

Poor Jacques ! he would no longer press him against his breast in the cold nights of winter ; he would no more return his smile, no more place his cheeks against his own ; they would no more exchange the only language which the dumb boy and the poor animal could understand. We exhausted all our consolations. One proposed that the child should be admitted to the orphanage ; another, that he should be adopted by some rich benefactor of the poor. The deaf and dumb boy did not hear. Had he understood us, our plaus of rehef would not have stopped his tears. Among the crowd I saw two children's faces which were not unknown to me. They were my little colporteurs. They had not observed me, and were not trying to discover acquaintances among the spectators of this touching scene. Entirely absorbed by the grief of the poor deaf and dumb boy, they were keeping their eyes fixed upon him.

Suddenly Jeanton's face brightened ; he took his little dog in his arms, the same which he had rescued from drowning, and placing it upon the knees of the deaf and dumb boy, he said — ' Here ; I give it you.' The Savoyard at first does not look up, but the dog smeUs the monkey's dead body, looks at it with a kind of grief, and licks it. The dumb boy is moved by a mark of tenderness which does not address itself to him, but to the dead, whom he is lamenting. He takes the little animal, presses it to his breast, and kisses it ; then, summoning up strength to raise himself, he looks lovingly at the boy who has separated himself from his dog, he gives him a smile of love and gratitude, he makes a few strange cries, which are scarcely human, but which showed a deeply touched heart. He goes away, carrying off his bread, his sous, the body of his monkey, and his dog.

Jeanton looks at him as he goes, and in his turn cannot repress his tears. Is it quite true that he has given him his dog ? that he will be for ever separated from it . ' Don't cry about it,' said Pierrette to him; 'the poor deaf and dumb boy was quite alone.' ' You are right,' replied Jeanton. 'I— Ihave my brother,' and lie clasped Pierrette's hand. I looked at the two colporteurs with emotion. They are very young, and yet how many good qualities of riper age do they possess, I said to myself ; they have courage, cleverness, thrift, and now they have just added to these charity. They knew at once what would give relief to the poor Savoyard's sorrow. It is little good to give drink to him who is cold, or clothes to him who is hungry ; we must suit the nature of the charity to the nature of the misery, we must bring to each sorrow, the consolation of which it has need.

Some days after the deaf and dumb boy had resumed his walks through the streets of Toulouse. The little dog wore the gold-laced coat of the deceased Jacques ; he tried to dance and make bows as he had done. The Savoyard was half consoled. Had he not again found a friend to whom he could speak, and who knew how to under stand him ? The delicacy, the discernment which the colporteurs had shown in their charit3r, inspired mo with a deep sympathy for them. I had relations in the village of Cierp. I made up my mind never to lose sight of these children. Thanks to the information which I procured each year from the people of the neighbourhood, I am now able to relate to you the history of Pierrette and Jeauton. The two boys returned to their father's house after a journey which was more profitable than they had dared to hope for.

Besides the five francs which they had sent every four or five days to their family, they had been able to bring back a foulard,* which cost eighteen sous, to each of their sisters, a cap of twenty-five sous to their mother, and a beret \ of thirty for their father Ardisan. They passed a full half-day shaking hands with and kissing their friends and relations. On Sunday they had the great pleasure of seeing their sisters carry the banner in the pro cession, wearing the new foulards, which caused the crowd to remark : ' These are the prettiest handkerchiefs * A silk handkerchief worn by peasants on their head or neck. f A cap worn by men in the South of France, and something like a Scotch cap. that young girls c_n wear ; they are presents from their brothers.' Father and Mother Ardisan were so well satisfied with their boys' expedition, they had shown so much prudence and economy, such good conduct and skill in trade, that it was decided that Pierrette and Jeanton should seek their fortune as colporteurs.

However, they resolved first to complete the boys' education, and especially to perfect their geographical and arithmetical knowledge, as weU as thoroughly to improve them in handwriting. The school at Cierp did not seem to them good enouah, that of St. Gaudens was too expensive ; but the mother Ardisan had made up her mind to give her sons a superior education, and she found the means of carrying out her design. She came herself from Rousillon, aU her rela tions still lived in that province ; she had often heard them speak of a schoolmaster there famous for his geographical and arithmetical knowledge. Why should not Pierrette be placed near this schoolmaster ? He could live with his aunt, who would give her nephew board and lodging for a very small sum. Her husband thought this plan admir able, aud it was decided that Pierrette should be sent off to the village of St. Laurent, in RousiUon, where his aunt dwelt, and also the schoolmaster, M. Despla.

As to Jeanton, he was too young to be sent so far off ; the school at Cierp would do for him for some years longer. He must therefore attend it during his brother's absence. Nothing was easier than to send Pierrette to Rousillon, thanks to his experience in travelhng. They put on his back a packet containing two shirts, gave him bread enough for two days, and a two-franc piece ; in a week it was expected that the brave lad would traverse the distance of somewhat less than 100 miles which separated Cierp from the shores of tho Mediterranean. He was just about to start, when a happy chance made his journey easier and more agreeable ; the neighbour Barnabe, a clever rag-merchant, was going to Perpignan to barter his rags for foulards and Catalonian lace ; the parents entrusted the boy to Barnabe, and the two started on their journey.

But Pierrette mingled not a few tears with his farewell kisses. He was starting a week before ..11 Saints' Day; he would no longer have his brother beside him on the school bench ; he would no longer be present at those pro cessions in which his sisters bore so prominent a part. However, he reached St. Laurent on All Saints' Eve; ho was present at all the services of the Church, and he had the joy of being able to assert that the Church of St. Laurent was less beautiful than that of his own village, that the Procession was not so long, that the banner was more faded, and that those who carried it wero not so pretty as Claire, Suzanne, and Marianne^

Chapter III. The Foolhardy Boy, Or The Pocket Knife

We will not give our readers any detail; of Pierrette's school-life. His grandmother, who lived close by, frequently came to see him, aud he seems to have passed a very happy time. After two years' absence his education was considered complete ; he had all the geographical and mathematical knowledge necessaryr for a travelling broker, so he left M. Despla's school, and returned to his parents. 'My good Pierrette,' his father said to him one day, ' it is time for you resolutely to take to a colporteur's life. I am going to confide to your care a very suitable pack ; you will make a journey of three or four months, and return before the winter, to pass the cold weather with your family.' Pierrette, delighted, proudly drew himself up to his full height, and promised his father to apply to this serious undertaking all the attention and activity which the good God had given him.

The father and son went to Montrejeau, a large town, not far off, where they bought a great stock of merchan dise of all sorts. Next day Pierrette was to start on his expedition. When morning dawned he kissed his mother, his sisters, his little brother, and, amid blessings and tears, he set off, his father accompanying him as far as Bag neres de Luchon, the first stage of a journey, which was to extend through all the neighbouring valleys. ' A good fortune and a happy return I wish you, my son,' he said to Pierrette, as he pressed his hand. ' Study attentively aU the places through which you pass ; try to sound the characters of men ; learn to guess the tricks of some, in order to avoid them : the tastes and the wants of others, to be able to satisfy them. You are the eldest of the family, Pierrette ; the future of your brother and sisters depends upon you : you cannot, then, know too much of life, and of all the difficulties which press upon an honest and brave workman.

Farewell ! be of good courage, and think sometimes of those who remain at Cierp. Before parting, take this little knife too, it is the most useful instrument which a father can give his son before starting on a journey.' Ardisan then gave Pierrette one of those coarse clasp knives, in horn handles, and which cost him, probably, about sixpence. The father and son separated, and the little colporteur went to display his wares in the villages of the different valleys. He arrived in the town of Cauterets in the middle of July, at the height of the bathing season. He went one morning to the different establishments and bath-houses which stand at the entrance of the gorge of Jeret; he thought that the bathers, who often had to wait hours for their turn at the bath, wTould like to pass away their time by casting their eyes over his merchandise, and buying some of the articles out of his pack.

Just as he was leaving the town, he was joined at the foot of the steep ascent which leads to La Ralliere by a youth of about sixteen and a gentleman of thirty, who were walking quickly towards the celebrated bathing establishment. ' Where are you going, little merchant ? ' the young man asked him, interested by the pleasing and intelligent face of the boy. ' To the baths of La Ralliere, sir,' replied Pierrette. ' I am going to try to sell cotton and needles, cotton stockings and cravats ' (for the colporteur never loses a chance of announcing his wares), ' if you gentlemen require any of these articles ? ' The young man smiled and thanked him. ' You surely belong to this part of the country, my friend? At your age one does not go very far from the paternal roof.' ' Well, I belong certainly to the Pyrenees, but not to Cauterets,' replied Pierrette. 'I have five high moun tains and five deep valleys to cro^s to return to my father's house.

I belong to Cierp, near St. Beat, gentle men.' ' What ! at your age, do you venture so far away as that, my little merchant ? ' ' "One must know how to leave one's village when one wishes to gain a livelihood," says my father ; " but one must know how to return there when one wishes to be happy," adds my grandmother, Juana Lloldi. 1 tryr to make the maxims of both agree. And you, sirs, where do you come from, if you please ? ' ' From Poictiers, my boy ; I am sixteen, and my name is Maurice.' ' And my name is Pierrette Ardisan, at your service.' ' This is M. Metivier, my tutor,' continued Maurice ; ' ho is thirty years old, and knows Greek and Latin like a philosopher. I have been at Cauterets for the last five days with my father, my mother, and a pretty Uttle sister, aged nine, named Annette.' ' You have only one sister ! ' replied the boy. ' I am much better off, sir ; I have three, without counting my brother — three sisters, aged eleven, nine, and eight — so pretty that every one admires them, and so good that our Cure has entrusted them to carry the banner.