THE AFTERMATH

Evening Star, Issue 15817, 31 May 1915, Page 2

THE AFTERMATH

■» [By Kuma M. Wish, in lite 'Daily Mail/] A few of us have no relatives iu the war. I Jiav-e none. I have friends in Lord Kitchener's army, but as yet they are soklkrs m the making. At the present there an; no sick beds., no wounds, no deaths in my family to bring it home to me that war exists. But it is brought home in other ways. One day I was valking up Boulevard Raspail m Paris. At- the corner of Kiio de Rennes a- crowd had gathered. Two army horses had returned from the war. They had come, the leport ran, from Gare Monfpa'ni'asst'. How they had got to that particular corner was a. mystery which none but the. police could iathom, and they kept tl'ift solution to themselves. Why they had stopped there was obvious—they could go no farther. Side by side they stood alongside the kerb, admitting defeat. For them the game, was up, the war had ended. They stood alor\>. No one claimed them. Neither could have borne a. lider, and if they had leader or driver he had deserted the in. Halters dangled front their skinny necks, but halters .to tether those poor beasts were an absurdity. They would not run away. The large horse had more vitality left than his companion. For him the world had still some interest, and at intervals he turned almost sightless eyes upon the crowd, as if asking what- it- was all about.-. The smaller horse did not care. His drooping head was never lifted, his eyes w:>ro never opened. Occasionally his legs gave way and he staggered a. little. Except for that- he stood motionless. Rloodilccked foam trickled from their mouths : autumn. Hies sought the bruise's on their fleshless bodies. The ambulance was a long time coming, and all the while the crowd glthoied. For a. Paris crowd it was singularly silent. " l.a guerre/' the people said in quiet voices, and pointed lo the brawled shoulders. Handkerchiefs were brought into play, and aprons, and occasionally a coat sleeve. One observer, more daring than other*, .stroked the big horse's bonjMkink. " Madame, madaiue," a- policeman said, and shook his head, but there was no sting in his rebuke Then the ambulance came. They let the platform down. The jaigrr horse seemed to realise that that was the first stage of his last journey. The interior of (heambulance looked inviting, and he stepped forward without vrginu'. Some assistnee- was required in mounting lb? gentle -slope, hut on the whole he accomplished it very we]!, 'the smaller horse had to be assisted entirely. Be was willing to go. but his strength -was s.pent Somewhere back in tk-- battlefield, on the long roads, everv bit of energy, of physical development that, had made 'him a Hue horse, had been wasted. Whatever effort was required .-.>' lion now must bo supplemented by o'fr side forces. "''ho ambulance diivei. thy policeman, the onlookers were willing to h/'lp. On all sides they surrounded "him and literally lifted him into the van. A sorry sight tlv> pair made huddled together in that narrow box. The ambulance diner shut it out bv slamming the doors, ihen he climbed to bis seat and drove away. The«e horses had been in the war. And '.hat brought it- home.