Autumn Glory; Or, The Toilers of the FieldBazin, René
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Autumn Glory; Or, The Toilers of the Field
Bazin, René
Peasants -- France -- Fiction; Vendée (France) -- Fiction
He sometimes asked Eléonore:
"Do you ever hear any talk of her marrying? Is she still as handsome
as when she loved me?"
When Marie-Rose went into the supper-room that night, it was Mathurin
only whom she furtively glanced at, and his face seemed to her to wear
a malicious smile, as though he had seen, or guessed Jean's absence.
Near Mathurin sat François, a very different looking man from the
other, of middle height, stout, red faced, easy going. Of him,
Rousille had no fear.
He was more pleasure-loving than the rest of the family. No great
worker, extravagant, running off to all the fairs and markets, easy to
get on with because he needed the indulgence of others. Physically and
morally the counterpart of Eléonore, two years his senior, like her he
had a broad face, dull blue eyes, and the same apathetic nature which
so often called forth lectures from their father.
But while the girl in the protection of her home remained pure under
the influence of her good mother, now dead, who, like so many of the
simple peasant women of those parts, had lived a humble saint-like
life, François had been ruined by barrack life.
He had submitted to military discipline, but without understanding the
necessity for it; therefore without deriving the corresponding
benefit. He had been subject to his superiors, had received
punishment, had been sent hither and thither for three years; but he
had never made a friend, never felt himself encouraged in the few
halting intentions for good that he had taken with him from the home
life, never been treated as a man, who has a soul, and whom sacrifice,
however humble, can ennoble. On the other hand, he fell an easy prey
to all the evils of a soldier's life; the loose talk at mess, the
drinking habits of his companions, the constant endeavour to shirk
duty, the prejudices, in a word the hundred and one corruptions into
which young men can sink who are taken from their homes and sent out
into the world, new to the temptations of great cities, without a
guide at the very period when most they stand in need of one.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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