The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1879-06-28
A Sketch in a Narrow Street,

It was so narrow, this little back street
In the quaint, old-fashioned German
town, that Hans Gottlieb could, if he
had so wished, have shaken hands out
of his window with his opposite neigh
Dor.
The sun that shone SO bravely else
where was seldom visible here; only in
the early morning few golden CLEANS
found their way in, and gave faint en-
enlargement to the two or three flowers
that blossomed in pots on the window-silI.
On such occasions Hans would pause
In his work, knowing full well, what was
comIng-how the easement opposite
would be flung open, ind girls voice,
slnglnga bllthe little French song, would
ring across the 81 emit street to his listen
ing ears; how slim, pretty figure would
Tor moment stand framed in the bios
somlng scS.rlet runners, pretty figure,
with DIRK French eyes, and black hair
draw up under a white cap, beautiful
contrast, so Hans thought, to his comedy,
yellow-haired countrywCmen. AS soon
as this vision appeared Hans would pause
nm his work and turn his eyes toward it
would wait until the watering of the
flowers and the singing of the song were
alike ended, and would then approach
his window
Good morning" his neighbor would
call across in that pretty foreign German
that was so enchanting to his ears
Good morning, Monsieur Gottleb,"
and then with q nod and a smile the
trim little figure would vanish into the
dark shadows, and Hans return to his
work.
But though life was too busy with
these two, and bread difficult enough to
win even when one worked hard for it,
so that neither could afford to idle away
the minutes in talk, yet Hans as he
worked, dreaming of the days when
stone-carving should not mean daily
bread, but honor and glory to those he
loved, was pleasantly conscious all the
time of dark head bent over q table
drawn close up to the window opposite
a table covered with many bright
colored scraps of muslin and paper
which IN due course, under those deft,
small hands, became summer flowers; at
this short distance seeming to the locker
on the spoils of June garden.
Thus they worked day after day, these
two, so near together, yet SO far apart,
sustaining from all conversation which
might have made the days pass more
quickly; but then an hours idleness
might mean going supperless to bed, so
that even Rose Cordier, dearly as she
loved the sound of her own voice, re-
Trained from making use of it, except
for an occasional song. But when the
day was over, when the GOODNESS in the
little close street, and the shadowy gray
of the strip of sky overhead, gave notice
that the long summer day was drawing
to an end, when the small room grew
dark, then Rose would rise and open the
door, to interchange greetings and Cos
sip with the neighbors-with the women
sitting on their doorsteps, knitting in
the peaceful twilight, their children
playing about them; with the fathers
returning from their work; with the
young men lettering about smoking, for
Rose had always bright word and look
for every man, woman and child she
knew.
And they were all fond of her-of
this little foreigner who had come among
them four years ago with an old mother,
since dead, and who earned her daily
bread honestly among them.
Then as it grew even darker, Hans
Gottlieb would become aware that the
day and its work were over, and would
lay laside his chisel, and also seek what
little fresh air there was at the door of
his dwelling. He did not laugh or gos-
sip with his neighbors, as did Rose
Cordier; it was not his way, and this
fact was quite recognized by the dwell
lers in William street. Beyond "Good
evening, neighbour" they did not seek to
disturb him in the enjoyment of his
evening pipe, only occasionally Rose
would step across and ask him what he
was at work upon, or if he had good
order, and then poor Hans, flush all over
his fair face, would proceed to describe
his work, his prospects, until Rose, with 8
pretty shrug of her shoulders, would tell
him in her foreign German she could not
understand him; he must speak slower
much slower; it was too late now, but to.
morrow, yes tomorrow, he must try and
explain it all again, 70. it was interest
ing, so interesting. But for now it must
be goodnight, goodnight to every
one," and the slight, trim figure hac
disappeared, and the door was closed.
The neighbors, watching Hans as h,
strolled up and down the little stree
afterward, pipe in month, nodded anC
smiled to one another. All, whel
there is enough for two over yonder
there will be weddingl" such was TIL
form the whispering took.
Even the hardest workers take holi
day now and again, and the feast of St
John the Baptist is esteemed in Freid
reichburgh, the Legitimate summer holi
day of all its industrious inhabitants
The happy day is spent according to al
old custom at small village some tire
miles distant from the town, where
time-honored fair is held.
Lion tanners, fat women, dwarfs
giants, all the hundred and one show
that are the rightful property of fai
are TO be found there, and later on Their,
is dancing under the soft evening sky
and after that, home early, SO as to be VI