The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1875-07-09

policeman will direct you. Now be on.
Gottlieb turned away. Curious freak
of destiny AS Gottlieb, poor Ger
man. was thus dismissed, the attache,
also n German, was received with excess
siye urbanity in the house he condo
scended TO honor. The trim servant,
Maria. ran out on the step after admit
ting the visitors, fumbling in her pocket
for pennies. Gottlieb had disappeared.
Half an hour later he found the bu-
reau. having twice Numbered and missed
his way. The place was closed for the
night. He wandered on without pur-
pose to the corner. The bitter wind had
iulled: the somber clouds, gathering i'll
dense masses overhead, promised the
first snow of the year.
Mr. Caldwell, adjusting his napkin and
presiding over table glittering with
silver and gorgeous with flowers and
! light, was observing:
" If trIflles are not Indigenous in the
country, Count, they may be cultivated.
Gottlieb observed n church, massive
and dark, with slender shaft towering
far above the surrounding roofs. The
church meant cool darkness, silence,
purity, after the reeking streets, if one
/
mechanically; it was locked. What
would you have? We cannot keep our
churches always open, even should a
fainting soul perish by the way.
Next he was caught in an eddy of des-
perate humanity--the abiect poor, the
sodden, brutal poor, all seeking the sta
tion-house, eager to receive that last
stamp of degeneration on the COIN
age of their own abasement, if sleep
might only bring forgetfulness of misery.
Gottlieb shuddered and drew back from
the crowded entrance of building
which seemed to exhale painful famili-
arity with crime in every stone. He
could not throw himself into that stream
of pollution.
Afterward he wandered on, without
purpose, past rows of fine dwellings,
past hurrying people all intent on reach
ing home. Sometimes he held out his
hand for aims, but it was done so awk-
wardly and hesitatingly that few noticed
the movement. The way grew narrow
and crooked; he had Quilted the spacious
thoroughfare unconsciously, and now
tall houses, time-stained and dilapidated,
lined the street. Gottlieb sat down on a
wooden doorstep to rest. Nobody dis
puted his right of possession. Laborers
came and went; work-women trudged
along; children played in the gutter.
Suddenly light form darted around
the corner, tripped, and fell almost at
Gottlieb's feet. Was it the CLEAN of
golden hair escaping from little scarlet
hood, or the blue eyes, now anxious and
terrified that made Gottlieb start with
the exclamation, "Gretchen !" Color
had dawned in his pale face; he knew
his mistake even before the young girl
rose, nursing bruised wrist; Gretchen
was inner grave. The girl regarded him
sullenly, almost wildly, and when he laid
n hand on her arm she darted away again
as if fearing capture. Her rapid fight
was impeded by an old woman carrying
a basket of apples and oranges, which
were spilled by the shock of contact.
" Amt yer ashamed, now, an for an
old body, too2" said the woman, whose
name was Mother Bates. The girl hest
tated, then stopped to gather up the
fruit
Don't let her co." implored Colt
heb.
The girl looked from one to the other
suspiciously.
" He wants me to be taken," she cried,
with a sob.
e" You are like my Gretchen, and I
wish to help you" he returned, quietly.
Mother Bates planted her cane before
her energetically.
Where are you going?" to Gottlieb.
" don't know, YEARLY.
Where are you goingl" to the girl.
"Away from the police" with shud-
der and fearful glance around.
" Come along, then.
They followed the old woman, these
two waits, scarcely knowing why, and
the girl whispered to Gottlieb, 81 am
Christine CaIlen l don't know Gretchen.
And what makes you so pale 2"
Mother Bates lived at the top of a
tenement house, and she conducted her
guests into small room with cheerful
hospitality. Already were five children
| gathered here, sharp featured, shrill-
voiced, and bearing that aspect of pre-
cocity peculiar to boys and girls of the
city streets. They might have been
trained III worse school, certainly, and
the little room made sort OF democracy,
of which Mother Bates was ruler, with
limited authority. The addition of two
strangers to their circle was taken as a
matter of course by these small citizens
OF the world only the baby stared at
Christine, attracted by the beauty of
gold hair, blue eyes and red lips.
With tact Mr.. Caldwell could have
initiated, this ignorant old woman,
taught by the goodness of her own heart
the only true instructor, indeed, in po-
liteness-asked no questions while serv-
ing frugal supper. Few manifesto
tons of affection were exchanged in the
household, although shrewd Mother
Bates cherished dry pride in the sue
cess of some of her charges.
81 used to live here alone, but
picked 'em up one by one a-starving. L
taught 'em their trades, too. Billy sells
newspapers Molly sweeps crossings
and Mike gifts cinders from the barrels
for our fire. They save my old bones
lots of work"
Christine Carlen had grown quiet she
was ready to tell her story. Two years
before she had come from Sweden with
her mother. They were to join their