On the walls the charts remained which reminded these little ones
daily that "Alcohol is the enemy," and had summoned them to follow the
path of kindness, justice, and truth. The windows were smashed, broken
cartridge cases lay about with wings of birds and other refuse. Near the
door I saw chalked up, evidently in German handwriting, "Parti Paris,"
("Left for Paris.")
The invaders had sought to burn the place. There was one pile of partly
burned straw under the school bookcase, the doors of which had been
smashed, while some of the books had been thrown about. They had not
even respected a little museum consisting of a few bottles of metal and
chemical specimens; and when I turned to leave I perceived written
across the blackboard in bold, fine writing, as the lesson of the day,
these words: "A chaque jour suffit sa peine," ("Sufficient unto the day
is the evil thereof.")
One of the villagers gave us the following narrative of the experiences
of the past week:
"It was last Saturday, Sept. 5, that about 15,000 Uhlans arrived in the
village with the intention of marching on Provins on the morrow. They
probably learned during the night that the British and French lay in
force across their road, and perhaps they may now have received orders
to fall back.
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