Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1881-06-22

cottage would save her and her daughter
from starvation, but everything else was
gone, not even the small resource of the
chickens remained to them, and the loss
of poor Resell was incalculable. It was,
indeed, heart breaking prospect for the
two young people whose future seemed
so bright only the day before.
"Cheer up, my girl, times must
brighten, said Paul, who, haggard and
worn, with his head bound up from
wounds of the night before, had stolen
to the side of the kneeling girl. "We
will work hard and win back what we
have lost"
But they both realized fully what a
weary labor of years it must be before
they could, by their own efforts, save
even the half of what had wasted away
in the night a waiting that would wear
out their youth, and perhaps their love
for each other, and there was no one to
help them.
ooh, Paul, Paul, this is very hard to
bearr and again Nina crouched down in
the black ashes, and wept as though her
heart would break.
Time brought no change for the bet
ter to Nina and her lover. Paul worked
early and late, but he could earn little
more than his own support.
Nina had once served in hotel in one
of the adjacent towns, much frequented
by foreigners, where she had learned
English fairly WELL She thought of try
ing for another such situation, but her
mother, growing old and ailipg, needed
her at home.
At last Paul disclosed plan which
for weeks had been shaping itself in his
brain; he would join a party of emf
grants to Australia, and there try to win
the means of subsistence for himself and
Nina that his fatherland denied him.
The separation would be long and
very hard to bear, but no other chance
for their eventful happiness offered it.
self. Gradually Nina ceased her fearful
protestations to this plan, and tried to
reconcile herself to the idea that it was
for the best; that in a few months, per-
haps weeks, her lover would sail away
over the seas without her. Alone, she
gave full vent to her tears, and Paul was
very sore at heart.
AS the weather grew warmer a stranger
came to Schondorf in search of quiet
and purer air than the city afforded.
He was a man past the prime of life,
stopped in the shoulders, and with a
tired look in his eyes that bespoke his
days-and nights, too-spent over books.
He spoke brokenly the tongue of those
about him.
The little town pleased him, with its
narrow, irregular houses with pointed
roofs and quaint little gable windows
and balconies clinging on in all sorts of
unexpected places. These dwellings,
were made still more picturesque by
the lavish bloom of gay geraniums In
the windows and an occasional stork'
nest perched confidently up among the
chimney-pots.
In one of these houses patronized by
the stOfks the stranger engaged room,
for he had superstitious belief in the
blessing which these classic birds bring
to those underneath the roof on which
they build.
"Frau Josef has lodger," Nina said
to her mother as, from their attic room
across the way, she watched the prepare.
tions being made for the strangers &C.
commodation
Nina thought, with bitter regret, that
they, too, had had tenants for the attrac-
tive rooms in their house which was now
no more.
She watched the tired-looking gentle.
man going to and fro in the streets, and,
meeting often in the country roads, they
soon began a nodding acquaintance, and
finally would overtake and chat with each
other.
One day, i'll the little churchyard
while Nina was hanging wreaths over
her fathers grave-it was his never-for.
gotten birthday-the strangerjoined her
and, in a burst of confidence, she TOLD
him all her history-of her once sc
happy future, and of the blight that ha6
so lately come to all her hopes. The
gentleman seemed touched and very
sympathetic at her recital, and they part.
ed, each feeling a deeper interest in the
other than before.
The stranger, on leaving the quiet
cemetery, took the path leading to the
river, but after time changed his
course and took a contrary direction
which finally brought him on a grass
grown way, appearing but little trod
NlS1Is A1oS1uS 1tO dU SOl1t
length up gradual ascent, he came al
last upon a curious old tower, surround
ed partly by ruined wall, at the top Of
| the hill.
At his approach an old man with bent
shoulders and long. scant hair, as white
as snow, came forward to greet the new.
conner. He was so very old, and seemed
SO perfectly in keeping with the soil
tude about him, that the stranger was
not surprised when he told him that 6
little room at the foot of the stairs
leading up to the tower was his home,
and that for years he had known no other
dwelling.
The people below in the village called
him Morcar, the hermit, and that name
served for him as well as any other. He
seldom saw human face, but when q
chance traveller made his way up the
mountain side he was very welcome.
He had already greeted some of his
fellow-beings that morning, for there was
party of foresters marking trees fo1