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the
and
her
Freda, who laughed at Gretchen'a threo
lovers, and had none of her own. Yet
no one smiled when das Kleine was
welded together for the linger of Black
Kummelmann's bride.
It was the year when the grass
hoppers fell like livo hail upon the land,
when the river (lowed between banks
bared of every spear of grass, and
through fields whose empty furrown
had lost in a night, leaf and stalk aqd
milky grain of the unripened harvest.
The miller's cave bad spread forth its
store of first gathered fruits for the
Hochzeit of Gretchen. When the miller
took his way, with bent head, over the
prairie path, to the utmost "distribut
ing station," where three barrels of
clothing and threo of provisions wero
dealt cut to a silent thin faced company,
Freda took her way to the store house.
Little Frau Gertrud shook her head
and was eager in her oiler of a better
solution of Freda's hard nroblem. But
the girl put both her arms about
tiny shoulders of the smith's wife,
cried as she had not. since she left
mother's grave in the fatherland.
"Good bye, best friend," she said, in
her soft Borlia German.
"It is not good bye. We shall bo
nearer, now."
For in the week, Freda became mis
trpssot the thatched roof across the
river, and the cooper wore but one cleft
ring.
This is not the story of Black Kum
melmann and his bride, save as they
shattered the peace of Gustav Kestner.
Else there were many things to be told
of the losing game played by the wo
man who, bred to household work,
tries to adapt herself to the concep
tions of a lord of the soil whose strong
wristed kinswoman have swung the
scythe with him in the harvest fields of
an older world. Tiny Frau Gertrud's
fingers might have twisted the corn
eaisfrom the stalks, had the black
smith said the word. But heavy-eyed
Freda moved beside her wagon with an
ever slackening gait which might have
provoked to wrath a far gentler master
than the sullen cooper.
Only once, on a rare Sunday when,
as of old, they all at in the stone house,
Freda suffered her friend a look. It
was ihen they spread the table to
gether, and the men talked in the after
glow of their refreshed drouth. As the
smith's wife touched the girl's arm
with a quick motion, Freda winced and
then, quietly turning up her sleeve,
showed ugly black marks which made
Frau Gertrud catch her breath. The
finger placed on her lips silenced the
little woman, until Schwartz Kum
mnlmann and his wife crossed the ford.
And then "What can one do?'1
the smith simply. "Whatever
tiirhs him will be revenged on
That is what it is to deal with a cur."
And though Smith Kestner was lees
free to speak his mind, next day, he
was no less minded to hold his peace.
There are tragedies of which the corn
rows tell nothing. Like the giant
smith they are silent. Here and there
the harvest's moving with their huge
bounty over the plains, are yet watered
with the blood of women and children,
as well as with the sweat of men.
Continued next rceeh:
MRS. BADGER'S DIPLOMACY.
said
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iffir
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America. !3 & 5 sizes. Mailed Kidd DruK Co.,
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The COURIER
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"What do I think of Mrs. Badger?
What do I think or it?'' and he put
do-vn hisfork so bb to pay full attention
to the matter in hand. "I think it the
product of a degenerate brain in other
words, an idea of your cherished friend,
Mrs. Fadder. Am I correct in my sur
mtce, my dear?
"There you go, blaming "
"Is it a Fadder scheme or is it not?
"When I only asked asked you '
"Mrs. Badger, you beg the question!"
"I don't!"
"Then tell me, is it ?"
At this point Mr. Badger saw signs of
tears, and changed his tones somewhat.
"There, there, never mind that, then;
let's got back where we started. You
asked what I thought of our having a
den, did you not?"
She nodded, in an absent way, afraid
to lose her Advantage by nppearing
cheerful too quickly.
"Well, may I ask if by 'don' you re
fer to the kind of realized nightmare
that young Fadder affects? A placo
you reach by climbing to the attic by a
stairway made of a ladder whoro you
have to go up on your toes and come
down on your heels, crouching always,
to avoid banging your head into the
ceiling? A placo hung with stuff
stuffs, where you have to be doubled up
on some squat-window seat or smoth
ered in a poky cosy corner? A place
lighted lighted is good! by smoky
little red lamps, so that you're forever
falling over tabourets and palms? A
place where a man is offered, instead of
a cigar, a bottle of water with some for
eign arrangement of gaspipe and gold
cord? A place filled with ugly little
pots and bowls that send out reeking
smells of so-called incense? A place
where sano people are expected to drink
weak tea and nibble Uhateum biscuits!
Is that the kind of an apartment you'ie
thinking of getting up at my expense,
Mrs. Badger?"
During this characteristic outburst
sho had been calmly considering the
situation. Long experience had taught
her that her husband's will was not a
thing to be turned by ordinary mepns.
But diplomacy acd tact had sometimes
proved successful, and it had occurred
to her at times that her lord's unbend
ing determination had one weak spot.
"I suppose they are something like
that," she observed, gazing at him
with that look that eeems to say,
"What a great, strong, brainy man you
are!" "I haven't seen many of them
myself, and I don't know but there
might be dens without all those objec
tionable features. You know, of course,
dear "
Mr. Badger, while somewhat dewild
ered, felt decidedly better.
"Er if you really care for something
of that kiud,'' he began, "perhaps "
"Oh, no, it wasn't that, exactly but
Well, you see, 1 know how much
you know about Oriental things, and '
how you appreciate the beautiful "
"She never mentioned the fact be
fore," thought Mr. Badger.
"But everybody doesn't know you as
I do, and so few men have sense enough
to care for such things '
Mr. Badger thought that he had a
clue.
"See here," he exclaimed, fiercely,
"has that Fadder woman been insinu
ating that I wouldn't appreciate a den?"
"Well, she didn't say bo in eo many
words, but "
"Oh, she didn't did she," cried Mr.
Badger, now at a white heat. "She
probably merely intimated, in her imi
tation high-bred language, that I don't
know a den from at Eskimo hut! She
doubtless suggested that I can't dis
tinguish between a hookah and an In
dian club. She said it was a pity you
married a man who didn't know Satsuma
