November 18, 1899.
THE NEBRASKA INDEPENDENT.
r
4
II TE STGI?
lfl r ni H n H RM 117 m
4 Ui'i
1
(Continued From Last Week.
""No; it sever seems so to me," ike
answered.
The sun had dipped now below the
hills, and the boy, suddenly remecaser
ing the ewes and lambs, started to kin
feet. ',
"Let us also go to the house and see
who has me," said ni as the boy
shuffled away to rejoin his flock, while
Doss ran at his keels, snapping at the
ends of the torn trousers as they flut
tered in the wind.
1 i CHAPTER III.
"i WAS A STRANGER, AND YE TOOK ME
: IN."
' As the two girls rounded the side of
the "kopje" nn unnsual scene present
ed Itself. A large group was gathered
Ot the back door of the homestead.
Ou the doorstep Rtood the Boor wom
an, a hand ou each hip, her face red
and fiery, her head nodding liercely.
At her feet sat the' yellow Hottentot
maid, her satellite, and around stood
the black Kaffir maids, with blankets
twisted round their half naked figures.
Two, who stamped mealies in a wood
en block, held the great stampers In
their hands and stared stupidly at the
object of attraction.'' It certainly was
not to look r.t the old German over
seer, who slooil In the center of the
group, that they had all gathered to
gether. Ills salt and pepper suit, grlz
ely black beard and gray eyes were as
familiar to every one on the farm as
the red gables of the homestead itsqlf,
but beside him stood the stranger, and
on him all eyes were fixed. Ever and
anon the newcomer cast a glance over
his pendulous red nose to the spot
where the Boer woman stood and
smiled faintly.
"I'm net a child," cried the Boer wo
man in low Cape Dutch, "and I wasn't
born yesterday. No; by the Lord, set
!You can't take ne in! My mother
didn't wean me on Monday. One wink
of my eye, and I see the whole thing.
I'll have no tramps sleeping on my
farm:" cried Tanf Sannle, blowing.
"No, by the devil, no, not though be
had CO times six red noses!"
There the German everseer mildly In
terposed that the., jnan was not a
tiamp, knt a highly respectable Indi
vidual. whose horse had died by an ac
cident three days before. ;
"Don't tell me!" cried the Boer wom
an. "The man isn't born that can take
me In. If he'd had money, wouldn't
he have bought a horse? Men who
walk are thieves, liars, murderers,
Rome's priests, seducers! I see the
devil In his noser' cried Tant' Sannie,
shaking her fist at him. "And to come
walking into the house of this Boer's
child and shaking hands as though he
came on horseback oh, no, no!"
The stranger took off his hat, a tall
battered chimney pot, and, disclosed a
bald head, at the back of which was a
little fringe of curled white hair, and
he bowed to Tant Sannie.
"What does she remark, my friend?"
he inquired, turning his crosswise look
ing eyes on the old German'.
The German rubbed his hands and
hesitated.
, "Ah well ah the Dutch you
know do not like people who walk
In this country ah!"
"My dear friend," said the stranger,
laying his hand on the German's arm,
"I should have bought myself another
horse, but crossing, five days ago, a
full river, I lost my purse a purse
with 500 In It I spent five days on'
the bank of the river trying to find It
couldn't; pa. id a Kaffir D to go in
and look for It at the risk of bis life
couldn't find it."
The German would have translated
this Information, but the Boer woman
gave no car.
"No. no! lie goes tonight See how
he looks at me, a poor, unprotected
female! If he wrongs me, who is to
do me right?" cried Tanf Sannie.
"I think," said the German in an
undertone, "if you didn't look at her
quite so much it might be advisable.
She ah she might Imagine that you
liked her too well In fact ah"
"Certainly, my dear friend, certain
ly," said the stranger, "I shall not look
at her."
Saying this, he turned his nose full
upon a small Kaffir 2 years of age.
That small naked son of Ham became
Instantly so terrified that he tied to bis
mother's blanket for protection, howl
ing horribly.
Upon this the newcomer fixed his
eyes pensively on the stamp block,
folding his hand on the bead of his
cane. Ills boots were broken, but he
still had the cane of a gentleman.
"You vagabonds se Engelsehman!"
said Tanf Hnnuie, looking straight at
him.
This was a near approach to plain
English, but the man contemplated the
Mock abstractedly, wholly unconscious
that any antagonism was being dis
played toward him.
"Yon might not be a Scotchman or
anything of that kind, might you?"
suggested the German. "It la the Eng
lish that she hates."
"My dear friend," said the stranger,
"I am Irish, every Inch of tne father
Irish, mother Irish. I've not a drop of
English blood In my veins."
"And you might not be married,
might you?" persisted the German.
'If you had a wife and children now!
BY
OLIVE
BCHBEnTEB.
' I
A TALE OF LIFE IN THE
BOER REPUBLIC.
m
Dutch people da net like those wha are
not married."
"Ah," said the stranger, leaking ten
derly at the block, "1 have a dear wife
and three sweet little children, twa
lovely girls and a aable boy,"
This Information, having been con
veyed ta the Boer woman, she. after
me fnrthT rvnrpruMln, appeared
lightly mollitied, liui remained firm to
her convlctiea that tke hub's designs
were evil.
Tor, dear Lord," she cried, "all
Englishmen are ugly! Rut was there
ever such a red rag aose thing with
broken boats and croaked eyes before?
Take him to your room!" she cried to
the German. But all the sin be does I
lay at your door."
The German having told him hew
Blatters were arranged, the stranger
made a profound bow to Tanf Sannie
and followed his host, who led the way
to his own little room.
"I thought she would come to her
better self soon," the German said joy
ously. "Tanf Sannie is not wholly
bad far from It far." Then, seeing
his companion cast a furtive glance at
him, which he. mistook for one of sur
prise, he added quickly: 'Ah, yes, yes,
we arc all a primitive people here not
very lofty. We deal not in titles.
Every one is Tanta and Ooui aunt
and uncle. This may be my room,"
he said, opening the door. "It Is
rough; the room Is rough not a pal
ace, not quite. But it may be better
than the fields, a little better." he said,
glancing round at his companion.
"Come In, come In. There Is some
thing to eat, a mouthful, net the fare
of emperors or kings, but we do not
atarve, not yet" he said, rubbing his
hands together and looking round with
a pleased, half nervous smile en his
old face.
"My friend, my dear friend," said
the stranger, seizing him by the band,
"may the Lord bless you, the Lord
bless and reward you the Gad of the
fatherless and the stranger. But for
you ! would this night have slept In
the fields, with the dews of keaven
upon my head."
Late that evening LynflaH came
down to the cabin with the German's
rations. Through the tiny square wls
dow the light streamed forth, and
without knocking she raised the latch
and entered. There was a fire burning
on the hearth, and it cast Its ruddy
glow over the little dingy room, with
its worm eaten rafters and mud floor
and broken, whitewashed walla, a curi
ous little place, filled with all manner
of articles. Next to the fire was a
great tool box; beyond that the little
bookshelf with its well worn books;
beyond that. In the corner, a heap of
filled and empty grain bags. From the
rafters hung down straps, "reims," old
boots, bits of harness and a string of
onions.- The bed was In another cor
ner, covered by a patchwork .quilt of
faded red lions and divided from the
rest of the room by a blue curtain,
now drawn back. On the mantelshelf
was an endless assortment of little
bags and stones, and on the wall hung
a map of south Germany, with a red
line drawn through it to show where
the German had wandered. This place
was the one home the girls had known
for many a year. The house where
Tanf Sannie lived and ruled was a
place to sleep in, to eat In, not to be
happy in. It was in vain she told
them they were grown too old to go
there. Every morning and evening
found theirt there. Were there not too
many golden memories hanging about
the old place for them to leave it?
Long winter nights, when they had
sat round the fire and roasted potatoes
and asked riddles and the old man had
told of the little German village where,
50 years before, a little German boy
had played at snowballs and had car
ried, home the knitted stockings of a
little girl who afterward became Wal
do's mother, did tlioy not seem to see
the Gorman peasant girls walking
alout with their wooden shoes und
yellow, braided hair and the little chil
dren eating their suppers out of little
wooden bowls when the good mothers
called them in to have their milk and
potatoes?
And were there not yet better times
than these moonlight nights, when
they romped about the door, with the
old man, yet more a child than any of
them, and laughed till the old roof of
the wagon house rang?
Or. best of all, were there not warm,
dark, starlight nights, when they sat
together on the doorstep, holding each
other's hand, singing German hymns,
their voices rising clear In the still
night air, till the German would draw
away his hand suddenly to wipe quick
ly a tear the children must not see?
Would they not sit looking up at the
stars and talking of them of the dear
Southern Cross: rod, fiery Mars; Orion,
with his belt, and the Seven Mysteri
ous Slsters-aud fall, to speculating
over them? How old are they? Who
dwelt in them? And the old German
would say that perhaps the souls we
loved lived in them. There. In that lit
tle, twinkling point, was perhaps the
little girl whose stockings he had car
ried home, and the children would look
tip at It lovingly and call It "Uncle Ot
to's atar." Then they would fall to
deeper speculations of the times anil
easous wherein the heavens shall be
rolled together as a scroll and the stars
shall fall as a fig tree casteth her un
timely figs and there shall be time no
longer, "when the Son of Man shall
come in his glory and all his holy an
gels, with him." In lower and lower
tones they would talk till at last they
fell Into whispers. Then they would
wish good night softly and walk borne
hushed and quiet
Tonight, when Lyndall looked In,
Waldo sat before the fire watching a
pot which simmered there, with his
(date and pencil In his hand. His fa
ther sat at the table burled In the col
umns of a three weeks' old newspaper,
and the stranger lay stretched on the
bed In the corner, fast asleep, his
mouth open, his great limbs stretched
out loosely, betokening mnck weari
ness: The girl put the rations down
upon the table, saufled the candle and
stood looking at the figure on the bed.
"Uncle Otto," ahe said presently, lay
Ing her hand down on the newspaper
and causing tha old German to look up
over his glasses, "how long did that
man say he had been walking?"
"Since this morning, poor fellow! A
gentleman, not accustomed to walking
lwrse died poor fellow!" said the J
German, pushing out his lip and glanc
ing eoinmlseratingly over his specta
cles In the direction of the bed where
the stranger lay. with his flabby double
chin and broken boots through whiek
the flesh shone.
"And no yon believe him, Uncle Ot
to?"
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"Believe him? Why, of conrse I da.
ne himself told uie tuo story three
times llstlnctly."
If," said the girl slowly, "he had
walked for only one day, lits boots
would not have looked so, and If
"Ifl" suld the fJenmin. start lug up in
his chair. Irritated that any one should
doubt such Irrefraslble evidence. "If!
M'by, he told me himself! Look how
he lies there," added the German pa
thetically, "worn out, poor fellow! SVe
have something for- him, though,"
pointing with his foreflnKer ever his
boulder te the saucepan that stood on
the Are. "Wo are not cooka not
French cooks, not quite ant It's drink
able, drinkable, I think, better than
nothing, I think." he added, nodding
bis head la a jocnael raaaner that
evinced his high estimation of the con
tents of the saucepan and his profound
satisfaction therein. "Blsh, blsh, my
chicken!" he said as Lyndall tapped
her little foot up a ad down iinoa the
floor. "Blsh, blsh, my chicken! Yen
will wako him."
He moved the enaalc so that his own
head mlst Intervene between It and
the sleeper's face, and, smoothing his
newspaper, he adjusted his spectacles
to rend.
The child's gray blnck eyes rested on
the figure on the bed, then turned to
the German, then rested on the figure
again.
"I think he Is a liar! Good nlpht.
Uncle Otto," she said slowly, turning
to the door.
Long after she had gone the Germnn
folded his paper up methodically and
put it la his pocket
The stranger had not awakened to
partake of the soup, and his son had
fallen asleep on the ground. Taking
two white sheepskins from the heap
of sacks In the corner, the old man
doubled them up and, lifting the boy's
head gently from the slate on which.
It rested, placed the skins beneath It.
"Poor lainble, poor lauible!" he said,
tenderly patting the great rough bear
like head. "Tired, is he!"
He threw an overcoat ncross the
boy's fect and lifted the saucepan from
the fire. There was no place where the
old man could comfortably lie down
himself, so he resumed his seat Open
ing a much worn Bible, he began to
read, and, as he read, pleasant
thoughts and visions thronged on hi in.
"I was a stranger, and ye took me
In," he read.
He tamed again to the bed where
the sleeper lay.
"I was a stranger."
Very tenderly the old man looked at
him. He saw not the bloated body
ner the evil face of the man, but. as
It were, under deep disguise and
fleshly concealment, the form that long
years of dreaming had made very real
to him. '.'Jesus, lover, and Is It given
to us, weak and sinful, frail aid erring,
to serve thee, to take thee In?" be said
softly as be rose from his sent. Full
of joy, he began to pace the little room.
Now and again as be walked he sang
the lines of a German hymn or mutter
ed broken words of prayer. The little
room was full of light It appeared to
the German that Christ was very near
him and that at almost any moment
the thin mist of earthly darkness that
clouded bis human eyes might be with
drawn and that made manifest of
which the friends at Emmaus, behold
ing It, said. "It Is the Lord!"
Again and yet again, through the
long hours of that night, as the old
man walked, he looked up to the roof
of bis little room, with Its blackened
rafters, and yet saw them not Ills
rough bearded face was illuminated
with a radiant gladness, and the night
was not shorter to the dreaming sleep
ers than to him whose waking dreams
brought heaven near.
So quickly the night fled that he look
ed up with surprise when at 4 o'clock
the first gray streaks of summer dawn
showed themselves through the little
window. Then the old man turned to
rake together the few coals that lay
under the ashes, and his son, turning
on the sheepskins, muttered sleepily to
know if it were time to rise.
"Lie still, lie still! I would only
make a fire." said the old man.
"Have you been up all night?" asked
the boy.
"Yes; but It has been short, very
short Sleep again, my chicken. It Is
yet early."
And he went out to fetch more fuel.
CHAPTER IV.
BI.KSSED IS HE THAT BELIEVKTH.
Bonaparte I'.Ie nklns sat ou the side of
the bed. He had wonderfully revived
since the day before, held bis head
high, talked in a full, sonorous voice
and ate greedily of all the viands offer
ed him. At his side was a busln of
soup, from which he took a deep draft
now and again as he watched the fin
gers of the German, who sat on the
mud floor before him mending the bot
tom of a chair.
Presently he looked out where. In
the afternoon sunshine, a few half
grown ostriches might be seen wander
ing listlessly about and then he locked
lu again nt the little whitewashed
room and at Lyudall. who sat In the
doorway looking at a book. Then be
raised his chin and tried to adjust an
Imaginary shirt collar. Finding none,
he smoothed the little gray fringe at
the back of his head and began:
"You are a student of history, I per
ceive, my friend, from the study of
these volumes that lie scattered about
this apartment This fact has been
made evident to me."
"Well a little perhaps it may be,"
said the German meekly.
"Being a student of history, then,"
said Bonaparte, raising himself loftily,
"you will doubtless have heard of my
great of my celebrated, kinsman. Na
poleon Bonaparte?"
"Yes, yes," said the German, look
ing up.
"I, sir," said Bonaparte, "was born at
this hour on an April afternoon three
and fifty years ago. The nurse, sir
she was the same who attended wher.
the Duke of Sutherland was born
brought me to my mother. There la
only one name for this child,' she said.
'He has the nose of his great kinsman,'
and so Bonaparte Blenkins became my
nnine Bonaparte Blenkins. Yes, sir,"
said Bonaparte, "there Is a stream on
my maternal side that connects me
with a stream ou his maternal side."
The German made a, sound of aston
ishment , .
"The connection," said Bonaparte,
"Is one which could not be easily com
prehended by one unaccustomed to the
Etudy of aristocratic pedigrees, bnt the
connection Is close."
"Is It possible?" ,al(1 tue German,
pausing in his work with much Interest
and astoalshmeat. "Napoleon an Irish
man!"
"les," said Bonaparte, "on the moth
er's side, and that is bow we are re
lated. There wasn't a man to beat
him," said Bonaparte, stretching him
self, "not a man, except the Duke of
Wellington. And It's a strange coinci
dence," added Bonaparte, beudlng for
ward, "but he was a eonnectlon of
mine. ' Ills nephew, the Duke of Wel
lington's nephew, married a cousin of
mine. She was a woman! See her at
one of the oonrt balls amber satin,
daisies In her hair! 'Worth going a
hundred miles to look at her! Of tea
seen her there myself. Blr!"
The German move the leather
thongs In and out and thought of the
strange vicissitudes of human life
which might bring the kinsmen of
dukes aud emperors to bis humble
room,
Bonaparte appeared lost among old
memories.
"Ah, that Duke of Wellington's
nephew!" he broke forth suddenly.
"Many's the Joke I've had with him.
Often enme to visit me at Bonaparte
Hall. Grand place I bad then park.
eoiiserTatory. servants He had only
one fault, that Duke of Wellington's
nephew," suld Bonaparte, observing
that the German was deeply Interested
lu every word. "He was a coward,
what you might call a coward. You've
never been In Kussla, I suppose?" said
Bonaparte, fixing his crosswise looking
eyes on the German's face.
"No, no." suld the old man humbly.
"France, England. Germany, a little In
this country It Is all 1 have traveled."
"I. my friend." said Bounparte, "have
been In every country in the world and
speak every civilized language except
ing only Dutch and German. 1 wrote
a book of my travels noteworthy Inci
dents. " Publisher got It cheated me
out of it Great rascals, those publish
ers! Upon one occasion the Duke of
Wellington's nephew and I were trar
ellng la Russia. All of a sudden one
of the horses dropped down dead as a
doornail There we were cold night
snow four feet thick great forest one
horse not being able to move sledge
light coming on wolves.
"'Bpreer aaya the Duke of Welling'
ton's nephew.
" 'Spree, do you call It? says I. 'Look
out'
"There, sticking out under a bush,
was nothing less than the nose of a
bear. The Duke of Wellington's neph
ew was up a tree like a shot 1 stood
quietly on the ground, as cool as I
am this moment, loaded my gun and
climbed up the tree. There was only
one bough.
" Bon,' said the Duke of Welling'
ton's nephew,, 'you'd better sit In
front' . ' -
" 'All right,' said I. 'but keep your
gun ready. There are more coming.'
He'd got his face buried In my back.
"'How many are there? said be.
" 'Four.' said I.
" 'How many are there now?" said
he. .
" 'Eight.' said I. '
"'How many are there now? said
he.
" 'Ten.' said I.
" Ten. ten!' said be, and down goes
bis gun.
"'Wallle,' I said, 'what have you
done? We're dead men now.'
"'Bon, my old fellow.' said he, 'I
couldn't help it, my bands trembled
so!'
"'Wall.' said I. turning round and
seizing his baud, 'Wallie, my dear lad,
goodby. I'm not afraid to die. My legs
are long; they bang down. The first
bear that comes, and I don't hit him,
off goes my foot When he takes It 1
shall give you my gun and go. You
may yet be saved, but tell. oh. tell
Mary Ann that I thought of ber, that I
prayed for her!'
" 'Goodby. old fellow! said he.
" 'God bless you.' snld I.
"By this time the bears were sitting
in a circle all rouud the tree. Yes." said
Bonaparte, Impressively fixing his eyes
on the German, "a regular, exact cir
cle. The marks of their tails were left
In the snow, and I measured It after
ward. A drawing master couldn't have
done It better. It was that saved me.
If they'd rushed on me at once, poor
old Bon would never have been here to
.tell this story, But they came on, sir.
systematically, one ly one. All the
rest sat on their tails and waited. The
lirst fellow came up, and I shot blm:
the second fellow I shot him; the
third I shot blm. At last the tenth
enme. He was the biggest of all the
leader, you may say.
" 'Wall,' I said, 'give me your hand.
My fingers are stiff with the cold.
There Is only one bullet left I shall
miss him. While be Is eating me you
get dowu and take your gun, and live,
dear friend, live to remember the man
who gave his life for you? By that
time the bear was at me. I felt bis
paw on my trousera.
" 'Oh. Bonnie. Bonnie." said the Duke
of Wellington's nephew. But 1 Just
took my gun and put the muzzlo to the
bear's ear. Over he fell dead!"
Bonaparte Bleuklns waited to ob
serve what effect his story bad made.
Then he took out a dirty white hand
kerchief and stroked bis forehead and
moro especially bis eyes.
"It always affects me to relate that
adventure," be remarked, returning
the hundkerehlef to his pocket 'In
gratitudebase, vile lngratltude-la re
called by it. That man, that man, who
but for me would have perished In the
pathless wild of Russia, that man la
tho hour of my adversity forsook me."
The Germnn looked up, "Yes." said
Bonuparte. "I had money, I had lands.
I said to my wife: There Is Africa, a
struggling country. They wan: capi
tal; they want men of talent; they
want men of ability to open up that
land. Let us go.'
'I bought 8,000 worth of machinery
winnowing, plowing, reaping ma
chines. I loaded a ship with them.
Next steamer I came out. wife, chil
dren, all. Got to the Cape. Where Is
the shlf) with the things? Lost-gone
to the bottom! Aad the box with the
money? Lost nothing saved!
'My wife wrote to the Duke of Wel
lington's nephew. I didn't wish her to.
She did It without my knowledge.
"What did the man whose life I sav
ed do? Did he send me 30,000; ay.
'Bonaparte, my brother, here la a
crumb? No: be sent me nothing.
"Uy wife said, 'Write. I Bald:
Mary Ann, no; while these hands have
power to work, no; while this frame
has power to endure, no. Never shall
It be said that Bonaparte Bleuklns ask
ed of any raan.' "
The man's noblo Independence touch
ed the Germnn.
- "Your case Is hard; yes, that la
hard." said the German, shaking bis
head. ' '; ;
Bonaparte took another draft of the
soup, leaned buck against the pillows
and sighed deeply.
"I think," he said after awhile, rous
ing himself, "I shall now wuudcr la
the benign air and tast the gentle cool
of the evening. The stiffness hovers
over me yet. Exercise Is beneficial."
So saying, be adjusted his hat care
fully on the bald crown of his bead
and moved to tho door. After he hnd
gone the German sighed again over bis
work :
"Ah. Lord! So It Is! Ah!"
He thought of the Ingratitude of the
world. ' ' ; ' " ' '
"Uncle Otto," said the child In the
doorway, "did you ever hear of ten
Kara sitting on tholr tails in a clrclo?"
"Well, not of ten exactly, but bears
do attack travelers every day. It Is
nothing unheard of." said the German.
'A man of such courage too! Terrible
experience that!"
"And bow do we know that the atory
Is true. Uncle Otto?"
The German's'lre waa roused.
"That la what 1 do hater' he cried,1
"Know that it is true! How do you
know that anything Is true? Because
you are told so. If we begin to question
everything proof, proof, proof what
will we have to believe left? How do
you know the angel opened the prison'
door for Peter except that Peter aald
bo? How do you know that God talk
ed to Moses except that Moses wrote
It? That Is what 1 hate!"
The girl knit her brows. Perhaps
her thoughts made a longer journey
than the German dreamed of, for, mark
you, the old dream little how their
worda and lives are texts, and studies
to the generation that shall succeed
them. . Not what we are taught, but
what we see, makes us, and the child
gathers the food on which the adult
feeds to the end. ' -
When the German looked up next.
there was a look of supreme satisfac
tion In the little mouth and the beauti
ful eyes. , '
"What dost see, chicken?" he asked.
The child said nothing, and an ag
onlziug shriek was borne on the after
noon breeze.
"O God. my God. I am killed!" cried
the voice of Bonaparte as- he. with
wide open mouth and shaking flesh,
fell Into the room, followed by a half
grown ostrich, which put Its head In
at the door, opened Its beak at blm
and went away.( , ,
"Shut the door! Shut the door! As
you value my life, sutif the door!" cried
Bonaparte. Blnkiug' lnto'a-cliAlr, his
face blue and )hltev. wltb a tgreenlsh
ness about the mouth.! rAh.my,frlend."
he said, tremulously, "eternity has
looked me In the face! Jy life's thread
hung upon a cord! The valley, of the
shadow of death!" said Bonaparte,
seizing the German's arm.
"Dear, dear, dear!" said the German,
who had closed the lower half of the
door and stood much concerned beside
the stranger. "You have had a fright
I never knew so young a bird to chase
before, but they will take dislikes te
certain people. I sent a boy away
once lxvau.se a bird would chase blm.
Ah, dear, dear!"
"When I looked round," said Bona
parte, "the red and yawning cavity
was above me and the reprehensible
paw raised to strike me. My nerves."
said Bonaparte, suddenly growing
faint, "always delicate, highly strung,
are broken, broken! You could not
give a little wine, a little brandy, my
friend r
The old German hurried away to the
bookshelf and took from behind the
books a small bottle, half of whose
contents be poured Into a cup. Bona
parte drained It eagerly.
"How do you feel now?" asked the
German. looking at blm with niucb
sympathy.
"A little, slightly, better." '
The German went out to pick up the
battered chimney pot which had fallen
before the door.
"I am sorry you got the fright The
birds are bad things till you know
them," he said sympathetically as he
put the hat down.
"My friend.", Bald Bonaparte, holding
out his band. "I forgive you. Do not
be disturbed. Whatever the conse
quences, I forgive you. I know, I be
lieve. It was with no III Intent that yon
allowed me to go out GlvJ me your
band. I have no III feeling, none!"
"You are very kind." said the Ger
man, taking the extended hand and
feeling suddenly convinced that be wa
receiving maguanlmous forgiveness for
(Continued next weeek.)
1
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