The model farmer
Tale Jules Renard.
The battle seemed over when a last shot, a stray bullet hit the right leg of Fabricius. He was forced to return to earth with a wooden leg.
Initially showed some pride, the first times I went into the village church so hard hitting the tiles, it could have been mistaken for a goalkeeper of great city.
Then, once the curiosity abated, lamented for a long time, ashamed of being useless forever.
sought with an obstinacy, often frustrated, how to be helpful.
And now in the path of a modest prosperity, without neglecting their leg meat feels soft spot for the timber.
works for wages. Assigned to a piece of the garden. And they can leave and let it work.
The right pocket is filled with red or white beans, your choice. It is also broken, not too much, but not recently.
With regular pace, Fabrizio runs the length and breadth of the field. His wooden leg makes a hole at each step. Shake your pocket holes. The beans fall. The lines with the left foot and continue.
And while earning an honest living, the old soldier, his hands behind his back and head held high, seems to walk for your health.
Taken: Stories own light
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