THE
PETI1:RITE. Vor.. VI .
AP1tIL,
1884 .
No . 43.
"CHEROOT :" A NOVELETTE, BY O-DA. (Continued.)
CHAPTER IV . LIFE IN A ZOUAVE CAMP.
African sun is blazing with its fiercest heat down on a tabaret in Tunis . It is a picturesque sight. Seated at little tables, placed here and there, under the shade of lofty elms, are the swarthy heroes of the French troops, the blue, red, and gold of their uniforms contrasted prettily with the neat costume of the vivandicre, as she flitted to and fro, supplying the wants of the bronzed veterans. " Sacre bleu ! a pretty croc-mitaine this, " cried a red-trousered ruffian, who, from a slight obliquity of vision, rejoiced in the soubriquet of CoquaL, " a great ugly rosbif. Pardieu ! to say we were not so good as the Arabs " As he spoke he ducked his head to avoid a bottle of eau de vie, which came whizzing from the fair hand of Cheroot, the vivandiure In vain, however ; for the bottle smashed against the tree beyond and, falling, laid open his head . Nothing disconcerted, the warrior wiped off the mass of blood, cognac, and broken glass, growling out the while, Corpo di Baccho ! ma belle . I could have done with that inside instead of outside . Pour-poi? you are wasting good liquor'. " "IIe said the truth, " screamed the vivandicre, with a pretty little stamp of her foot . " He is worth twenty such holmsons as you . There would have been precious little of you left this day, had he not cut off the Lead of the elephant, that was charging you yesterday, with one blow of his arm, this gentilleoounze with the hands of a woman and the occur of a lion ."
T
ILE