THE HES
five. He vns very little," And tears filled
soft-hearted Frau Greta's eyes as she thought
of the little waif who had come and gone so
strangely and so sadly. It was all quite in
comprehensible to her and mein herr, and
they could only sigh, "It vas strange. He
vas so very little,"
He had come with his mother over the
prairie late one November afternoon. They
rode in a very old and dilapidated spring
wagon, drawn by rough, bony horses. The
north wind blew cruelly across tne barren
prairie, and they were thinly clad. Even
Herr Louie in his great coat with cap and
scarf would not have cared to ride far in that
icy wind, and in an open wagon, too! It
was too cruel.
The mother had asked for shelter over
night. They were from a claim "out West."
The crops had failed that year. Still she and
her husband had thought to try again it
would surely be better another year. But
lately he had been taken sick and died, leav
ing her and the boy alone. Aided by a
neighbor she had buried him in a corner of
their claim and there left him. They would
ha o starved or frozen- -she and the boy out
there alone, so they started for the east in
their old spring wagon.
Two stragglers, they were, from the great
army of men, women and children which each
year, wheels back to eastern friends. West
ward they have gone, lured by hopes of homes
of their own, or drawn by the indefinable
charm of the "West." All they have, seldom
much, is expended on the new home. Then
comes a crop failure. To stay means to
starve. So, penniless, they desert the soli
tary little sod shanties and turn sadly east
ward. Frau Greta had taken the chilled little
mother and her boy and warmed and fed
them. The mother was small and thin, with
sad, dark eyes, and a tired, white face. She
had a bad cough and held her hand to 'her
head as if in pain. Frau Greta made her a
hot drink "goot for coughs" and led her
away to the- best aid warmest room in the
house.
But when morning came she was moaning
PERI A N. 3
and tossing in delirium. Herr Louie donned
his great coat and set out for the distant vil
lage for the doctor, while his good hausfrau
did what she could for the sufferer. Then
followed long days full of pain and fevered
dreams for the little mother .vho never once
roused from her delirium. Frau Greta was a
tender nurse and moved quietly and tirelessly
aboat her many duties, coming often to the
sick bed to soothe with her soft German gut
tends, the wilder wanderings of the poor, un
settled brain.
And the boy? All day long he hovered
anxiously about the sick room in his still,
quiet way., When the mother was left for a
while by the busy nurse, he would creep close
to the bed and sit there silent, holding a thin,
tired hand in his own. Then the sick one
would be more quiet and, perhaps, sleep' a
little. Sometimes, at the bidding of motherly
Frau Greta, he would go to play with Anton
and l.ttle Greta, but his presence served only
to stop the noisy play of the German children
who seemed never to weary of staring at him
with big, wide-open blue eyes. There was
a sharp contrast between those eyes and his
dark ones; between their fat cheeks and his
thin little face; between their noisy play and
his quiet ways. The little Teutons could not
understand him, so they would sit staring
silently until he stole away again' to his
mother.
The doctor came often, and at each visit
shook his head more ominously. She was
failing; it could not be long. Early in
December the end came, very gently and
quietly. Frau Greta tenderly foV . the thin
little hands over the tired breas dropping
soft tears on the white face r - sV delicately
beautiful. "Poor little hands," she mur
mured. "So small, so thin. They were not
meant for farm. Und now they rest."
Three tall cottonwoods the only trees for
miles, save a few stunted willows where the
creek ran grew on a hill-top near Herr
Louie's house. Beneath them he and his
hired man dug a grave in the frozen earth
and there buried her.
The boy watched silently, but did not cry.
Only he trembled a little when they threvy
V
