“The weather seems to have damaged a good many of them, I notice,” answered Mother Meraut, with just a suspicion of a smile. “The weather has been quite pleasant too,—strange!”
“Weather—nothing!” said Pierre, scornfully. “I’ll bet you that— "
It seemed as if Pierre was always being interrupted at just the most exciting moment of his remarks, but this time he interrupted himself. “What’s that?” he said, stopping short. Madame Coudert, his Mother, and Pierrette, all stood perfectly still, their eyes wide, their lips parted, listening, listening! They heard cannon-shots, then music—toward the west—coming nearer—nearer.
“It is—oh, it is the Marseillaise!” shrieked Pierrette.
Mother Meraut and the Twins ran toward the sound. Now shouts were heard—joyous shouts—from French throats! Never had they heard such a sound! People came tumbling out of their houses, some not fully dressed—but who cared? The French were returning victorious from the battle of the Marne. They were coming again into Rheims, driving the Germans before them! Ah, but when the red trousers actually appeared in the streets the populace went mad with joy! They embraced the soldiers; they marched beside them with tears streaming down their cheeks, singing “March on! March on!” as though they would split their throats. Pierre and Pierrette marched and sang with the others, their Mother close beside them.
On and on came the singing, joy-maddened people, right past Madame Coudert’s shop, and there, standing on the curb, with a tray in her arms piled high with goodies, was Madame Coudert herself. The green poster was already torn in shreds and lying in the gutter. It even looked as if some one had stamped on it, and above her door waved the tricolor of France! “Come here,” she cried to Pierre and Pierrette, “Quick! Hand these out to the soldiers as long as there’s one left!”
Pierre seized a pink frosted cake, and ran with it to a Captain. Pierrette gave a sugar roll to the first soldier she could reach; other hands helped. Mother Meraut ran into the shop and brought out more cakes. Shop-keepers all along the way followed Madame Coudert’s example, and soon people everywhere were bringing offerings of candy, chocolate, and cigars to the soldiers, and the streets suddenly blossomed with blue, white, and red flags. At the corner, near Madame Coudert’s shop, Pierre had the joy of seeing the German officer who had tried to catch him surrender to the Captain who had taken the pink cake. Oh, what a moment that was for Pierre! He sprang into the gutter as the German passed and savagely jumped up and down upon the fragments of the green poster! It was a matter for bitter regret to him long after that the German did not seem to notice him.