PAGE 6
The Gawk
by
[Footnote 4: About half a cent.]
[Footnote 5: And thereby escape being taken as a recruit.]
Aloys took the creutzer; but in crossing the bridge which leads over the Necker he put his hand in his pocket, shut his eyes, and threw the creutzer into the river. “I won’t draw a high number: I want to be a soldier and cut George out,” he muttered, between his teeth. His hand was clenched, and he drew himself up like a king.
At the Angel Hotel the squire waited for the recruits of his parish; and when they had all assembled he went with them to the office. The squire was equally stupid and pretentious. He had been a corporal formerly, and plumed himself on his “commission:” he loved to treat all farmers, old and young, as recruits. On the way he said to Aloys, “Gawk, you will be sure to draw the highest number; and even if you should draw No. 1 you need not be afraid, for they never can want you for a soldier.”
“Who knows?” said Aloys, saucily. “I may live to be a corporal yet, as well as any one: I can read and write as well as another, and the old corporals haven’t swallowed all the wisdom in the world, either.”
The squire looked daggers at him.
When Aloys walked up to the wheel, his manner was bold almost to provocation. Several papers met his fingers as he thrust his hand in. He closed his eyes, as if determined not to see what he should draw, and brought out a ticket. He handed it to the clerk, trembling with fear of its being a high number. But, when “Number 17” was called, he shouted so lustily that they had to call him to order.
The boys now bought themselves artificial flowers tied with red ribbons, and, after another hearty drink, betook themselves homeward. Aloys sang and shouted louder than all the others.
At the stile at the upper end of the village the mothers and many of the sweethearts of the boys were waiting: Mary Ann was among them also. Aloys, a little fuddled,–rather by the noise than by the wine,–walked, not quite steadily, arm-in-arm with the others. This familiarity had not occurred before; but on the present occasion they were all brothers. When Aloys’ mother saw No. 17 on his cap, she cried, again and again, “O Lord a’ mercy! Lord a’ mercy!” Mary Ann took Aloys aside, and asked, “What has become of my creutzer?” “I have lost it,” said Aloys; and the falsehood smote him, half unconscious as he was.
The boys now walked down the village, singing, and the mothers and sweethearts of those who had probably been “drawn” followed them, weeping, and wiping their eyes with their aprons.
The “visitation,” which was to decide every thing, was still six weeks off. His mother took a large lump of butter and a basket full of eggs, and went to the doctor’s. The butter was found to spread very well, notwithstanding the cold weather, and elicited the assurance that Aloys would not be made a recruit of; “for,” said the conscientious physician, “Aloys is incapable of military service, at any rate: he cannot see well at a distance, and that is what makes him so awkward sometimes.”
Aloys gave himself no trouble about all these matters: he was quite altered, and swaggered and whistled whenever he went out.
On the day of the visitation, the boys went to town a little more soberly and quietly than when the lots were drawn.
When Aloys was called into the visitation-room and ordered to undress, he said, saucily, “Spy me out all you can: you will find nothing wrong about me. I have no blemish: I can be a soldier.” His measure being taken and found to be full, he was entered on the list without delay: the doctor forgot the short-sightedness, the butter, and the eggs, in his astonishment at the boldness of Aloys.