Page 4 Advertisements Column 3

Levin Daily Chronicle, 2 July 1918, Page 4

Wotan—A French War Story (By Maurice j-<evel.) "You have a beautiful dog there, lieutenant." t "¥es, haven't I, captain?""What breed is het" "A Beaueeron collie—a 'red stocking, ' as the French breeders would call him. He is still a little spiritless. But ha is beginning to pick up. I found him lying at the foot of a tree some two weeks ago, and I believe that if I hadn't picked him up he would have died of starvation within a few hoars." "A beautiful animal ,a beautiful animal," repeated the captain. "What do you call him f" "Wotan. He doesn't answer weJU. But that will come. Isn't that so, Wo- | tan?" The dog made no sign. Tho captaix stretched out his hand prudently. "Can one pet him I" "Yes, yes." J "Be he hasn't a very friendly air about him." • "There is no danger. See. I don't 1 even put a muzzle on him. Nevertheless he is teribly armed, this fellow. Look at his teeth." "But he ought to be less formidable than our mastiffs or our sheep dogs.'' '' Yes, I think so. Our; dogs are trvo fighting dogs. Here they are of a mildi er strain." ) "Is he a good watchdog?" t No. The first days "to test him,. I made him sleep in my bedroom. He didn't growl even when the orderly enter- ' ed." " "Then why do you keep him?" ; ' 'Ah! To divert my mind. When I ' am tired of him it will be different. 1 j Shall we go? Get up, Wotan! We're I off." The dog stretched himself and got up. L a strange gait, wearied, inelasi tic, and dragging. Without any reason \ a t the cross roads, before an open house i he stopped, raised his head, sniffed the r wind, his ears erect, one paw lifted like ; a hunting dog who points, and then t started off again. Little by little he [ learned to know his master and to come i when for. And'as he followed docilely enough the lieutenant stopi ped using a leash. Nevertheless, in spite of his docility and his gentleness he had , less the air of a companion than of a guardian, never playing and never, rc- | sponding to caresses. "He is sad," said the lieutenant, | noting that at meals he refused sugar and scraps of meat. "He is very stupid," answered lieutenant BaTon von Pictz, shrugging his shoulders. Time passed. Wotan had recoverhis glossy coat and firm muscles, but he did not' recover his gayety. The Saxon regiment changed quarters frequently, Wotan trotting on the flank of the column. Sometimes, when they entered a village, he seemed nervous _ and 'restless and whimpered during the night. In the course of marches and countcr marches they returned to the region in which the officer had picked him up. Everything was changed. The trees showed dull brown under a leaden sky. One could hardly recognise the former roads, trampled by the horses and broken by heavy waggons and cannon. Winter approached, heralded by chilling rains. By the side of the fire in the lieutenant's chamber it was cosy and comfortable. But the dog disappeared one morning as the snow began to fall. They, hunted for him all day, and they didn't find him until the next day, at the foot of the very tree where the officer had run across him in the month ot' August. The regiment was shifted again. That night, when they marched, Wotan responded with a plaintive call to tho cattle that lowed and the invisible dogs that barked in the misty shadows. T-hen suddenly dashed across the fields and returned in excited leaps to take his place in the ranks. He was no longer tho spiritless beast of other days. He uttered cries of delight, he jumped gayly in. the air, and when the men halted he barked, impatient to go ahead. "Truly," said tho lieutenant, "he is not an ordinary animal. I shall finish by making something out of him." They went into camp in a village. Winter had.arrived. It snowed. Wotan. ran before the officer from door to door stopping, waiting for him, leaving him with sudden turns and then dashing back to his side. The lieutonant chose for his quarters a handsome house, standing back in a garden. It had a pointed roof and was surrounded by wooden balconies. Close behind him Wotan ran from room to room, galloping up the stairways, drying on the carpets his coat covered with snowflakes. They lighted a fire. But he refused to lie alongside the wooden logs and ran across the garden, inspecting it in every nook anfl corner—the greenhouse, the cellar, the shed, where a hundred miscellaneous objects were stored; a dog house in which some straw was rotting. During the day he never entered ' the house. In the evenings, when the officer whistled for him to give him hi/s dinner, he did not respond. The orderly wanted to chase him away. Then for the first time he showed his teeth. '' Let him alone. When he gets hungry he will come," said the baron. Night came on. The moon shone down on the white surface of the garden. Wotan resumed his rounds, trotting "indofatigably from bush to bush. A deep I silence hung over the country. The last fires were extinguished. The clock ia the church tower struck ten. A sound of footsteps and of laughter came from the frozen road outside. Then a man advanced alone. A figure appeared behind the iron grating and the garden gate CTeaked on its hinges. It was the lieutenant returning, somewhat intoxicated. He whistled. Nothing happened. But as he arrived at the doorway of the house, without a sound, with a spring so sudden that the snow flew from under his paws, the dog jumped at the officer's neck and stretchod him on the ground. It was freezing cold that night. The next morning a peasant who was passing saw the gate open and went into the garden. Tho Prussian lieutenant lay there ,stiff and stark, in the bloodstained .snow. Crouching over him, his jaws still Teady to bite, Wotan baTkefl and wagged his tail. Then tho peasant ran away and, reaching home breathless, said to his wife: : "What do you think? Trim, who wo thought"was lost; Trim, the dog of M. Langlois ;well, he has come back. I have just seen him. He has killed the German officer who ordered the house opened. Ah! he had reason ,M. Langlois, to love his dog! He is a true watchdog, dont' you think?"— Translated for tho New York Tribune fcy William L. McPheraon. SEVERAL HAVE WRITTEN". Several soldiers at tlie front liave written asking us why we do not give more publicity to the fact, that Chamberlain's Colic and Diarrhoea Remedy is such a successful medicine for bowel complaint in all its forms. They state, tliat those soldiers who have taken a bottle of this medicine with ijhem k> the front have not only relieveS themselves from much pain and suffering, but have also relieved many of their comrades. Sold everywhere. Only the best is good enousrh for your family—use "Hudson's Balloon Brand"—the absolutely pure baking powder. T. Broome, tievin.