XII.  MORNING IN THE MEADOW

As summer came on, life seemed less and less sad to the people of Fontanelle.  With the coming of the Americans the outlook had so changed that, although the war was not yet over, they could look forward to the future with some degree of hope.  The news brought from Rheims by occasional refugees was always sad.  The Germans con tinued to shell the defenseless city, and the Cathedral sustained more and more injuries, but the beautiful stained-glass windows had been carefully taken down, the broken pieces put together as far as possible, and the whole shipped to safer places in France.  The statue of Jeanne d’Arc within the church had also been taken from its niche, while the one before the Cathedral doors still remained unharmed by shot and shell.

It comforted Mother Meraut to think of that valiant figure standing alone amid such desolation.  She had other things to comfort her as well.  With food and fresh air the roses bloomed again in the cheeks of her children.  Soon, too, the gardens began to yield early vegetables.  In the morning, instead of hearing the sound of guns, they were awakened by bird-songs, or by the crowing of cocks and the bleating of goats.  These were pleasant sounds to the people of Fontanelle, for they brought memories of peaceful and prosperous days, and the promise of more to come.

The rebuilding of the village was begun by the end of June, and the sound of saws and hammers cheered them with the prospect of comfortable homes before cold weather should come again.  The work proceeded slowly, for the workers were few, even though their good friend the Commandant gave them all the help he could.  There were now a multitude of little chicks running about on what had been the stately lawns of the Chateau, and there were twenty new little rabbits in the rabbit-hutch.  As the rabbits could not forage for themselves, it was necessary for others to forage for them, and this work fell to the lot of Pierre and Pierrette.

One summer morning one of the roosters crowed very, very early, and the Twins, having no clock, supposed it was time for them to get up and go for fresh leaves and roots for the rabbits, as they did every day.  They rose at once, and the sun was just peering above the eastern horizon as they came out of the stable door.  They went to the rabbit-hutch, and the rabbits, seeing them, stood up on their hind legs and wiggled their noses hungrily.

“Rabbits do have awful appetites,” said Pierre, a little ruefully, as he looked down at the empty food-box.  “Just think what a pile of things we brought them yesterday.”

“There’s nothing to do but get them more, I suppose,” answered Pierrette.

“I know where there’s just bushels and bushels of water-cress,” said Pierre, “but it’s quite a long distance off.  You know the brook that flows through the meadow between here and camp?  It’s just stuffed with it, and rabbits like it better than almost anything.”