“One finds this spirit everywhere.  It is one of the few bright and beautiful things to be found in the great world war, though many of the deeds of heroism of the French children will never be known.  The little heroes have made the supreme sacrifice and their lips, sealed in death, can never tell of their deeds.

“That you may the better understand the spirit of patriotism that fills the hearts of all these little French children, I will tell you the story of little Pierre,” said the captain.  “This is not a long story, but a more heroic one never has been told.

“While Pierre was twelve he was small for his age, but sturdy, and he loved his country with a fervor that you children of America also should have in your hearts.”

“We have,” spoke up Joe Funk.

“Yes, I think that all of you have.  I wish you to keep it, to keep the fires of patriotism burning and never let them grow dim.  As for Pierre, I will now tell you of the noble sacrifices he made for France.

“Pierre lived with his mother in a small French village at the time the Germans entered the town.  Being hungry, as usual, they intruded into the homes of the villagers and helped themselves to whatever they could find, in some instances after first demanding that food and money be turned over to them.  The villagers dared not disobey nor even raise a voice in protest.

“A captain and several men entered the home of little Pierre, where there was a wounded French sergeant that the lad’s mother had been nursing and whom the little boy loved very dearly.  The sergeant’s wounds were just beginning to heal, but so weak was he that he could scarcely stand without someone to lean upon.  When the Germans burst in the wounded man was filled with rage, but he knew better than to attempt to thwart them.

“’Give us food, all that you have.  Hold back anything and you die,” bellowed the Prussian captain, smiting the table with the flat of his saber.

“Pierre’s mother was stout hearted.  ‘We have only bread and cheese,’ she said.  ’You may take it if you will, but I give not to a Prussian, not even so much as a crumb.  Take it if you will, for you are strong while I am but a weak woman.’

“’Woman, you speak truly; we are strong, and we shall take, but for this resistance you shall suffer.  See what a Prussian does to such dogs of French as oppose him!’

“With that the captain struck Pierre’s mother with the flat of his hand, hurling her clear across the room.  She staggered against the wall and sank moaning to the floor.

“The captain evidently had overlooked the wounded French sergeant, who lay on a cot in the shadows, and his men were too fully occupied with helping themselves to food to take heed of anything else.  As for little Pierre, the lad stood trembling with rage.  He was not afraid, but he was filled with righteous indignation.

“The sergeant’s eyes were blazing as he fixed his gaze on the face of the German captain.