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Page 82
Another year passed by, and one morning Gertrude sat under a tree in the
garden with her embroidery, whilst Walter played at her feet. Then, as
before, a voice called out of the tree, "Walter! Walter!" And when the
boy looked up, the raven was sitting on a branch, who said: "Now once
more you may wish, and it shall be granted; but this is the last time,
therefore think it well over."
But Walter did not think long before he answered: "Ah! let us both be
children all our lives long."
And as he wished so it happened. They both became children as before,
played together more happily than ever, and were of one heart and of one
soul.
But when another year had passed by, and the children sat plucking
flowers and singing together in the garden, an angel flew down from
heaven, who took them both in his arms and carried them away--away to
the celestial gardens of Paradise, where they are yet together,
gathering the flowers that never fade, and singing songs so wondrously
beautiful, that even the blessed angels hear with joy.
WAR AND THE DEAD.
A DRAMATIC DIALOGUE.
(_From the French of Jean Mac�._)
Dramatis Person�.
Peace.
War.
A French Grenadier.
A German Hussar.
A Scotch Highlander.
A Cossack.
A Russian Peasant Woman.
A French Peasant Woman.
A German Peasant Woman.
An English Peasant Woman.
Soldiers _are lying on the ground._ Peace _is seated
at the back, leaning her elbow on one knee, her head resting on her
hand_.
_Enter_ War.
War. To-day is the 18th of June, the anniversary of the battle
of Waterloo, the day of a wrath which still mutters, and of a hatred yet
unappeased. Let us employ it in re-animating this torpid century, which
succumbs to the coward sweetness of an inglorious peace. After forty
years of forced repose brighter days seemed at last to have returned to
me. Twice did I unfurl the old colours in the breeze; twice I made
hearts beat as of old at the magic din of battles; and twice that
hateful Peace, rising suddenly before me, snatched the yet rusty sword
from my hands.
Up! up! O heroes of great battles! you whom twenty-five years of warfare
did not satiate: rise from your graves and shame your degenerate
successors. Up! up! Bid some remember that they have a revenge to take,
and tell others that they are not yet enough avenged.
Peace _rises_.
Peace. What do you want here, relentless War? Dispute the world
of the living with me if you will, but at least respect the peace of the
grave.
War. I have a right to summon the Dead when it is in the name
of their country.
Peace. The Dead are with God; they have but one
country among them.
War. You may dispense with set speeches, most eloquent Peace,
for I pay no attention to them. I go forward, and leave talk to
chatterers. The world belongs to the brave.
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