The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1876-08-31

came almost 1nGOlSEGDlO. AAO1O WAS uO
prospect of shade for long time to
come. Now and then, at rare intervals,
solitary fir tree, with ill-grown
branches, threw its lean shadow across
the path but there was no spring, no
torrent, no babbling brook, and, above
all, no battle stories. Hans marched on
INCREASINGLY but he had become mute.
Following behind him, [ swallowed
clouds of dust through my mouth and
nostrils, which was not refreshing. Half
way UP the hill we passed through a
little hamle6, with cottages made of pine
wood, extending irregularly on both
sides Of the road.
"Wait here for me, said Father Hans,
as he turned into blacksmith's forge
I saw him lay his old horseshoe on the
anvil, and the smith In his leather apron
took it up, and turned it over several
times in his black hand.
"It is not worth much, Father Hans"
said he, at last; ssand if it were not to
oblige an old friend-but tell me, how
much do you want for it 2"
Neither gold nor silver; some hand
fuls of cherries out of your orchard, and
jug of fresh water will amply pay me-"
In the twinkling of an eye the daugh-
ter of the house disappeared, and came
back with basket full of the most deli
cious-looking cherries that I had ever
seen. How fresh and rosy they were
It almost quenched my thirst to look at
them.
"You can bring back the basket when
you return, said the girl, with pleas
ant smile; while Father Hans, without
taking breath, swallowed two large glass
fuls of limpid water that were o pleasure
even to see.
He now rose to depart. He is GER
tain to offer me some cherriesl" said l
to myself and I conjured up such a
vision of refreshment at the thought as
made my mouth water. After some min
utes Father Hans put his hand in the
basket, and drew forth a large bunch of
cherries, and began to devour them one
by one, without appearing even to think
of me, although it was only two hours
ago that had moiled and toiled at his
side tying to keep step with him. After
that bunch followed a second-then
third.
" What a selfish man he is, and I
thought he was SO good" and, saying
this, [ made faces at him behind his
back, whilst he regaled himself in front.
All at once a cherry slipped from his
hand and rolled to my feet. In a second,
it was covered over with dust as white as
sugar. No matter picked it up, and
wiped it with corner of my pocket
handkerchief :; then, turning it round in
my fingers, I asked myself what was to
do, for, after all, it did not belong to
me. But it would be very hard to give
it back to him. think, however, that
I should have adhered to this course,
but, just at that moment, Father Hans
turned round, and said, as if he had
guessed my secret struggle
"Keep it for yourself (; all that falls in
the ditch belongs to the soldier"
I became as red as my cherry, and
carried it to my lips with as Indifferent
an air as I could assume. But, never
the1ess, how delicious it was! After
some moments, a second cherry fell like
the first and, at the end of about every
twenty steps, the same maneuver was re-
peated twenty times stopped down to
the dust, and I ended by being some
what refreshed. Then the crimson
mamma ceased to fall, and Father Hans
turned round toward me with laughing
face his little gray eyes sparkling under
his heavy, bushy eyebrows, and his
mOustaches, which were also gray, and
grew as bushily as his eyebrows, turn
ing up at the corners of his mouth, re-
vealing mischievous smile.
"Have you understood, little one? 2"
he asked, with twinkle in his eye.
I answered nothing, but had no diff
ficulty in compromising that he was
making fun of me.
"Look you, my boy; the best lessons
are those which are learnt by practice
rather than by precept, and these are
the kind that always teach my children
and grandchildren. One soon forgets
sermon" added he, breaking out into
kind, fatherly smile, "but am sure that
YOU will never forget the cherries of to-
day, and will forgive your old companion
for having picked up practical lesson
on the road for yonr benefit"
g Yes, indeed, Father Hans" cried I,
stretching out my two hands toward him,
which he clasped in one of his own /;
'but still | should very much like you
to explain your lesson to me. I think
that fully understand it, but"
"My lesson, y replied he, is that it
is far better to stoop once and pick up
an old horseshoe that is equal in value
to basket of fresh cherries, than it is
to stoop twenty times to pick up twenty
cherries covered with dust. And now,
my boy" added he, handing me the IA
nous basket, after the lesson comes
the reward. Eat what is there, and if
you find it good, promise yourself that
you will never refuse to do a service,
however trifing it may seem to be, either
for an old or young person. Disoblig-
ingness is like deceit-it always comes
home to it's owner" '
Deceit9 Father Hans spoke truly in
saying that it always comes home to its
owner; and, now, what had been the