Greenfield Republican, Greenfield, Hancock County, 12 July 1894 — Page 6

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door v/,rty spinning ip as the sledge stopped before the S&st&ansj but the young woman in Jh« greoiu. balcony weut on knitting, tad saw nothing.

A buxom elderly Hausfrau came to greet the guests. She wore a laturallv kind expression on her old

bee, but when she saw who the gen-

ilemaa was, the kindness positive .acreased to kindness superlative. She first rati re.'1 and called out:

4*Liza,

She became very hot and excited, ind gesticulated violently. Ali tbis time the young woman sat kuitling, but not looking uo. She aarl been beautiful, but her face was worn uow, and her eyes had that vasaut stare which betokens the valaufc mind.

The mother whispered to Robert Allitsen: "She- notices nb one now she sits tho.re always waiting."

Tears came into the kind old eyes. Robert Allitsen went and bent flown to the young woman, and held out his hand. "Catharina," he said gently.

She looked up then, aud saw him, and recognized him. Then the sad face smiled a welcome.

Se sat near her, and took her knittiag ia his hand, pretending to exftmiee what she had done, chatting to her quietly all the time. He asked her what she had been doing with liersclf since he had last* seen her, and she said:

Waiting. I am always waiting." He knew that she referred to her lover, who had been lost in an avalanche the'eve before their wedding morning. That was four years ago, but Catharine was still

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BY BE.VTItlCK HABUADEN.

PART 1.— CHAPTER

And he told her what he knewr and, amongst other

things,

CONTINUED.

about

the avalanches. He was able to point out where some had fallen the previous year. He stopped in the middle of his conversation to tell her to put up her ambrella. '*1 can't trouble to hold it for you," be said "but I don't mind opening it. The sun is blazing to-day, and you will get your eyes bad if you are not careful. That would be a pity, for you seem to me rather better lately." "What a concession for you to make of any one said she. "Oh, I don't mean to say that you will ever get well,'' he added grimly. "Youseem to have pulled yourself in too many directions for that. You have tried to be too alive and now you are obliged to join the genus cabbage." "I am certainly less ill than I was when I first came," she said, "and I feel in a better frame of mind altogether. I am learning a good deal in sad Petershof." "That is more than I have done," ne answered. "Well, perhaps }rou teach instead," she said. "You have taught me several things. Now, go on telling me about the country people. You like them?" "I love them," he said simply. "I fcnow them well, and they know me. You see I have been in this district so long now, and have walked about so much, that the very woodcutters fcnow me. and the drivers give me lifts on their piles of timber." "You are not surly with the poor people, then?" said Bernardine though I must sav I cannot imagine you being genial. Were you ever genial, I wonder?"

don't think has ever been laid to my charge," he answered. The time passed awav pleasantly. The Disagreeable Man was scarcely Himself today or was it that he was iiore like himself? He seemed in a loyish mood he made fun out of lothing, and laughed with such foung, fresh laughter that even August, the grave blue-spectacled iriver, was moved to mirth. As for Bernardine, she had to look at Rob»rt Allitsen several times to be sure ibat he was the same Robert Aliitson she had known two hours ago in Petershof. But she made no remark md showed no surprise, but met his nerriment half way. No one could 3e a cheerier companion than herself graphs," he said when she chose While they had been speaking

At last they arrived at Loschwitz. Catharina rose from her seat and The sledge wound its way around Pa,fed into the house. Her mother ihe sloshy streets of the queer little!followed her and watched her go Tillage, and finally drew up in front

the Gasthaus. It was a black tun burnt chalet, with green shutters, and steps leading up to a little ^reen balcony. A fringe of sausages viung from the roof red bedding was •jcoiv.hing in the sunshine three cats were dozing on the steps a young woman sat in the green balcony kuit'iug. There were some curious inscriptions on the walls of the chalet, *nd the date was distinctly marked, "icru

waiting, scarcely ever looking up. That was her life. "Catharina," he said, as he gave her back his knitting, "do you remember how you used to cook me the trout?"

Another smile passed over her face. Yes, she remembered. "Will you cook me some today?"

She shook her head and returned to her knitting. Bernardine watched the Disagreeable Man with amazement. She could not have believed that his manner could have been so tender and kindly. The old mother standing near her whispered: "He was always so good to us all we love him, every one of us. When poor Catharina was betrothed five years ago, it was to Herr Allitsen we first told the good news. He has a wonderful way about him—just look at him with Catharina now. She has not noticed any one for months, but she knows him, you see."

At that moment the other members of the household came: Liza. Fritz, and Trudchen Liza, a maiden of nineteen, of the homely Swiss typo Fritz, a handsome,lad of fourteen and Trudchen, just free from school, with her school satchel swung on her back. There was no shyness in their greeting the Disagreeable Man was evidently an old and much loved friend, and inspired confidence, not awe. Trudchen fumbled in his coat pocket, and found what she expected to find there, some sweets, which she immediately began to eat, perfectly contented and self-satisfied. She smiled and nodded at Robert Allitsen, as though to reassure him that the sweets were not bad, and that she was enjoying them. "Liza will see to lunch." said the old mother. "You shall have some mutton cutlets and some forellen. But before she goes she has something to tell you." "I am betrothed to Haus," Liza said, blushing. "I always knew you were fond of Hans," said the Disagreeable Man. "He is a good fellow, Liza, and I'm glad you love him. But haven't you just teased him!" "That was good for him," Liza said brightly. "Is he here today?" Robert Allitsen asked.

Liza nodded. •'Then shall take your photo-

was

3US^ pouring it out when Catlx-

c]1fl lno'-prl arina brought in the forellen. "Why, Catharina," he said, "you don't mean you've cooked them?

Then they will be good!" She smiled, and seemed pleased, and then went out of the room.

Then he told Bernardine her his-

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Fritz, Liza, Trudchen, come

juickiy!" Then she came back and cried: "Herr Allitsen, what a surprise!" bite shook his hand times without number, greeted Bernardine with motherly tenderness, and interspersed all her remarks with frantic ries of "Liza, Fritz, Trudchen, nake haste!"

and spoke with such kindness

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and sympathy that Bernardine was again amazed at him. But she made no remark. "Catharina was always sorry that I was ill," he said. "When I stayed here, as I have done, for weeks together, she used to take every care of me. And it was a kindly sympathy which I could not resent. In those days I was suffering more than 1 have done for along time now, and shj was very pitiful. She could not bear to hear me cough. I used to tell her that she must learn not to feel. But you see she did not learn her lesson, for when this trouble came on her, she felt tjo much. And you see what she is."

They had a cheery meal together, and then Bernardine talked with the old mother, whilst the Disagreeable Man busied himself with his camera. Liza was for putting on her best dress, and doing her hair in some wonderful way. But he would not hear of such a thing. But seeing that she looked disappointed, he gave in, and said she should be photographed just as she wished and off she ran to change her attire. She went up to her room a picturesque, homely working girl, and she came down a tidy, awkward-looking young woman, with all her finery on, and all her charm off.

The Disagreeable Man grunted, but said nothing. Then Hans arrived, and ti\en came the posing, which caused much amusement, They both stood perfectly straight, just as a soldier stands before presenting arms. Both faces were perfectly expressionless. The Disagreeable Man was in despair. "Look happy!" he entreated.

waiting. AMritsen remembered her sion of melancholy which was too «g a bright young girl, clinging in much for the gravity of the photothe (xneth&us, waiting cheerfully on grapher. He laughed heartily. thegiKstsra bright gracious pres- "Look as though you wern't going ence? No one cduld cook trout as to be photographed," he suggested, 6b«

many a dish of trout had "Liza, for goodness sake look as ehe served up for him. And now though you were baking the bread, •he sat ia the sunshine knitting and and Hans, try and believe that you

They tried to smile, but the anxiety to do so produced an expres-

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to the kitchen. "I should like to cook the forellen," she said very quietly.

It was months since she had done anything in the house. The old mother's heart beat with pleasure. "Catharina, my best loved child!" she whispered and she gathered the poor suffering soul near to her.

In about half an hour the Disagreeable Man and Bernardine sat down to their meal. Robert Allitsen had ordered a bottle of Sassella, and he

are doing some of your beautiful carving." The patience of the photographer was something wonderful. At last he succeeded in making them appear at their ease. And then he told Liza that she must go and change her dress and be photographed now in the way he wished. She came down again, looking fifty times prettier in her working clothes.

Now he was |in his element. He arranged Liza and Hans on the sledge of timber which had been driven up, and made a picturesque group of them all Hans and Liza sitting side by side on the timber, the horses standing there so patiently after their long journey through the forest, the driver leaning against his sledge smoking his long china pipe. "That will look something like a picture," he said to Bernardine when the peformance %as over. "Now I am going for about a mile's walk. Will you come with me and see what I am going to photograph, or wili you rest here till .1 comeback?"

She chose the latter, and during his abeence was shown the treasures and possessions of a Swis peasant's home.

She was taken to see the cows in the stalls, and had a lecture given her on the respective merits of Schneewitehen, a white cow, Kartoffelkuchen, a dark brown one, and Roselin, the beauty of them all. Then she looked at the spinuing wheel and watched the old Hausfrau turn the treadle. And so the time passed, Bernardine making good friends of them all. Catharina had returned to her knitting and began working, and, as before, not noticing any one. But Bernardine sat by her side, playing with the cat, and after a time Catharina looked up at Bernardine's little thin face and, after some hesitation, stroked it gently with her hand. "Fraulein is not strong," she said, tenderly. "If fraulein lived here I should take care of her."

That was a remnant of Catharina's past. She had always loved everything that was ailing and weaklv.

Her hand rested on Bernardine's hand. Bernardine pressed it in kindly sympathy, thinking the while of the girl's past happiness and present bereavement. "Liza is betrothed." she said, as though to herself. "They don't tell me but I know. I was betrothed once."

She went on knitting. And that was all she said to herself. Then after a pause she said: "Fraulein is betrothed?"

Bernardine smiled and shook her head, and Catharina made no further inquiries. BuL she looked up from her work from time to time and seemed pleased that Bernardine still stayed with her. At last the old mother came to say that coffee was ready, and Bernardine followed her into the parlor.

She watched Bernardine drinking the coffee, and finally poured herself out a cup, too. "This is the first time Herr Allitsen has ever brought a friend," she said. "He has always been alone. Fraulein is betrothed to Herr Allitsen—is that so? Ah, I am glad. He is so good and kind."

Bernardine stopped drinking her coffee. "No, I am not betrothed," she said, cheerily. "We are just friends and not always that, either. We quarrel." "xYll lovers do that," persisted Frau Steinhart, triumphantly. "Well, you ask him yourself," said Bernardine, much amused. She had never looked upon Robert Allitsen in that light before. "See, there he comes,"

Bernardine was not present at the court martial, but this is what occurred. Whilst the Disagreeable Man was paving the reckoning Frau Steinhart said in her most motherly tones: "Fraulein is a very dear young lady Herr Allitsen has made a wise choice. He is betrothed at last."

The Disagreeable Man stopped counting out the money. "Stupid old Frau Steinhart!" he said, good naturedly. "People like myself don't get betrothed. We get buried instead." "Na, na!" she answered. "What a thing to say—and so unlike you too! No, but tell me." "Well, I am telling you the truth," he replied. "If you don't believe me, ask Fraulein herself." "I have asked her," said Frau Steinhart, "and she told me to ask you."

The Disagreeable Man was much amused. He had never thought of Bernardine in that way.

He paid the bill and then did something which rather astonished Frau Steinhart, and half convinced her.

He took the bill to Bernardine, told her the amount of her shire, and she repaid him theu and there.

There was a twinkle in her eye as she looked up at him. Then the composure of her features relaxed, and she laughed.

He laughed too, but no comment was made upon the episode. Then began the good-bves, and the preparations for the return journey.

Bernardine bent over Catharina and kissed her sad face. "Fraulein will come again?" she whispered eagerly.

And Bernardine promised. There was something in Bernardine's manner which had won the. poor girl's fancy some unspoken sympathy, some quiet geniality.

Just as they were starting, Frau Steinhart whispered to Robert Allison: "It is a little disappointing to me, Herr* Allitsen. I did so hope you were betrothed."

August, the blue-spectactoi driver, -, fill

cracked his whip, and off the horses started homeward. For some time there was no conversation between the two occupants of the sledge. Bernardine was busy thinking about the experiences of the day, and the Disagreeable Man seemed in a brown study. At last he broke the silence by asking her how she liked his friends, and what she thought of Swiss home life and so the time passed pleasantly.

He looked at her once, and said she seemed cold. iTou are not warmly clothed," he said. "I have an extra coat. Put it on don't make a fuss, but put it on at once, I know the climate, and you don't."

She obeyed, and said she was all the cosier for it. As they were nearing Petershof, he said half-nervously: "So my friends took you for my betrothed. I hope you are not offended." "Why should I be?" she said fraukly. "I was only amused, because there never were two people less lover-like than you and I are." "No, that's quite true," he replied in a tone of voice which betokened relief.. "So that I really don't see: that we need concern ourselves further in the matter," she added, wishing to put him quite at his ease. "I'm not offended, and you're not offended, and there's an end of it." "You seem to me to be a very sensible young woman in some respects." the Disagreeable Man remarked after a pause. He was now quite cheerful again, and felt he could really praise his companion. "Although you have read so much, you seem to me sometimes to take a sensible view of things. Now, I don't want to be betrothed to you, any more than I suppose you want to be betrothed to me. And yet we can talk quietly about the matter without a scene. That would be impossible with most women."

Bernardine laughed. "Well, I only know," she said cheerily, "that have enjoyed mv day very much, and I'm much obliged for your companionship. The fresh air and the change of Surroundings wili have done me good."

His reply was characteristic of him. "It is the least disagreeable day I have spent for many months," he said quietly. "Let me settle with you for the sledge now." she said, drawiug out her purse, just as they came in sight of the Kurhaus.

They settled money matters, and were quits. Then he helped her out of the sledge, and he stooped to pick up the shawl she dropped. "Here is the shawl you are always dropping." he said. "You're rather cold, aren't you? Here, come to the restaurant and have some brandy. Don't make a fuss. I know what's the right thing for you."

She followed him to the restaurant, touched by his rough kindness. He himself took nothing, but he paid for her brandy. /That evening after d'hote, or rather after he had finished his dinner, he rose to go to his room as usual. He generally went off without a remark. But to-night he said: "Good night, and thank you for your companionship. It has been my birthday to-day, and I've quite enjoyed it."

CHAPTER XI.

"IF ONI: HAS MADE THE ONE (SHEAT SACRIFICE." There was a suicide in the Ivurhaus one afternoon. A Dutchman, Vandervelt, had received rather a bad account of himself from the doctor a few days previously, and in a fit of depression, so it was thought, he had put a bullet through his head. It had occurred through Marie's unconscious agency. She found him lying on his sofa when she went as usual to take him his afternoon glass of milk. He asked her to give him a packet which was on the top shelf of his cupboard. "Willingly," she said, and she jumped nimbly on the chair, and gave him the case. "Anything more?" she askedkindly, as she watched him draw himself up from the sofa. She thought at the time that he looked wild and strange but then, as she pathetically said afterward, who did not look wild and strange in the Kurhaus? "Yes," he said. "Here are five francs for you."

She thought that rather unusual too but five francs, especially coming unexpectedly like that, were not to be despised, and Marie determined to send them off to that Mutterli at home in the nut-brown chalet at Grusch.

So she thanked Mynheer van Vandervelt, and went off to the pantry to drink some cold tea which the English people had left, aud to clean the lamps. Having done that, and knowing that the matron was busily engaged carrying on a flirtation with a young Frenchman, Marie took out her writing materials, and began a letter to her old mother. These peasants know how to love each other, too. Marie knew. And she told her mother of the gifts she was bringing home, the little nothings given her by the guests.

She was very happy writing this lettar the little nut-brown home rose before her. "Ach!" she said, "how I long to be home!"

And then she put dowu her pen and sighed. "AchP she said, "and when T'm there, I shall long to be here. Da wo ich nicht bin, fla isfc das Gluck."

Marie was something of a philosopher. Suddenly she heard the report of a pistol, followed by a second report. She dashed out of her little pantry, and ran in the direction of the sound. She saw Warli in the passage. He was looking scared, and his letters had fallen to the ground. Ho pointed at No. 54.

It was the Dutchman's room. Help arrived. The door was forced open, and Vandervelt was found dead. The case from which he had taken the pistol was lying on the sofa. When Marie saw that, she knew that she had been an unconscious accomplice. Her tender heart overflowed with grief. Whilst others were lifting him up, she leaned her head against the wall, and sobbed. "It was my fault, it was my fault!" she cried. "I gave him the case. But how was I to know?"

They took her awav and tried to comfort her, but it was all in vain. "And he gave me five francs," she sobbed. I shudder to think of them."

It was all in vain that Warli gave her a letter for which she had been longing for many days. "It is from your Mutterli." he said, as he put it into her hands. "I give it willingly. I don't like the looks of one or two of the letters I have to give you, Mariechen. That Hans writes to you. Confound him!"

But nothing could cheer her. Warli went away shaking his curlv head sadly, shocked at the death of the Dutchman and shocked at Marie's sorrow. And the cheery little postman did not do much whistling that evening.

Bernardine heard of Marie's trouble and rang for her to come. Marie answered the bell, looking the picture of misery. Her kind face was tear-stained, and her only voice was a sob.

Bernardine drew the girl to her, "Poor old Marie." she whispered. "Come and crv }'our kind heart out, and then you'll feel better. Sit by me here, and don't try to speak. And I wili make you some tea in true English fashion, and you must take it hot, and it will do you good."

The simple sisterly kindness and silent sympathy soothed Marie after a time. The sobs ceased and the tears also. And Marie put her hand in her pocket and gave Bernardine the five francs. (TO BR CONTINUED.

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES.

America has 30,000,000 farmers. London has over sixty statues to famous men.

Chicago is to have a hotel with 6,124 rooms. Storm warnings were first issued in Holland in 18(50.

The salt product of the world is put at 7,300,000 tons yearly. A first class French cook won't broil meat without charcoal.

In France there are special railway cars for carrying bicycles. New York city has more southerners than any city of the South.

Raising peppermint is the leading industry of Wayne county, N. Y. There are no known means by which the scars made by smallpox may be removed.

The Duke of Parma, father of the Princess of Bulgaria, has ten daughters and five sons.

When farmer William L. Schutts, of Scran ton. Pa., started for town with a lot of fish in his wagon a black bear walked along behind, put his fore paws on the tall board and began to eat the fish. Schutts killed him with a fish spear.

There is a river of ink in Algeria. It is formed of two small streams, which join and form a small river about fifteen feet wide and three l'eet deep. One of the streams comes from an iron district and the other flows through a peat marsh and in its journey becomes impregnated with acid.' The mixing of the two makes ink.

The salvation army is voting to erect new headquarters in New York at a cost of $200,000. It will be four stories, fire-proof, and will seat 3,000 people and have room for officers of the army. The army has been offered a large farm on Staten island upon which to establish a colony of those rescued from the slums who are willing to do farm work.

The art of plaiting hair chains is practiced by some of the Italian residents of this region, and a suburban resident, on noticing that the tails of his carriage horses were rapidly disappearing, learned that a faithless stableboy had been systematically pulling out the long hairs and giving or selling them to an Italian chain maker.—New York Sun.

The Crow Outwitted.

Cincinnati Enquirer.

"They have a novel method of killing crows in Georgia," said T. F. Homer, at the Grand. "Grains of corn are pierced, and through them is inserted a hair from the tail of a horse. These grains are scattered in the fields where the crows are in the habit of coming. When the bird swallows one of these grains the horse-hair prevents it passing intc the craw and irritates the mouth. The bird rolls over, turns on its back and scratches to get it out, but to nc purpose, Death results either from strangulation or, as is (frequently the case, from wounds inflicted by thf sharp claws. The crows gather around the victim, but, although they are of an exceedingly suspicious nature, they never attribute the trouble to the coro."

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