The record-union., 1895-07-27
SCHMIDT'O SKETCH-BOOK

L
Schmidt, at your service, meinherr! Beg
pardon. what said you? Never heard
tell of an artist Schmidt? Ach bewahre,
no artist am /! Just amuse myself till
the train comes along. Why, good sir,
it is but a peddler you see and indeed
seldom do they give me better name
than Lump" tramp. Look yonder
stands my pack-wishen the most graci-
Gus gentleman a neckerchef perhaps?
Indeed, have them fine, in red, green
end yellow. On pair of stockings. sir?
Iramping over mountains runs them
through, is it not true? Thousand devils!
you cannot mean it! What? \ GU prefer
looking over my sketch book to my
Waresi No, no. that l can scarcely be-
lieve.
Well, then, if you will. Truly. one
slime and another during my wanderings
/ have flashed off bit-the old book Is
well-nigh filled. But be SO kind as TO
wait one little minute, and this view L
make of the station here will be COM
pleted-a queer little building, sir!
There, now-if you really wish TO do me
so great an honor. Ach. but you are not
IN earnest! l fear you make game OF me.
For now | see that you, too, have book
and pencil in hand, and you the real
artist are, sir What? A diary only?
And you a servant? That L can never
believe; you look every inch the Baron
might even be Count! Oh, a servant OF
God. Now l comprehend. SO you a
pastor are? Then l pray the most rev.
srend sir will with charity judge my
very modest efforts. AS you say, it may
help shorten the time-accident down the
road-no knowing how long the train
may be delayed. And so, kind sir, just
look over the pages with me while l try
10 TIL out between the lines.
Would L could leud you my eyes and
you should find here much more than
these few strokes OF black on white can
tell; truly it is little unless you read be-
tween them. sir.
Now this first sketch is not so we'll
done, you will find, as some later on
all OF twenty years agone was it set in
place, when | was less contented. ay, far
Less happy than now. The rolling years
have indeed ground down the sharp
edges of sorrow in a measure.
Ies, yes, you have quite right. Herr
Pastor! was no moro born peddler
than yourself, for my father of blessed
memory was the schoolmaster in s..
But, alas! i was driven to take the pack.
Ach, God have pity! it was Mold
Inlller's Moldl-she alone was the cause;
and truly, Herr Pastor, far too beautiful
was Moidl-how plainly / see it nowi-
to remain long true 10 an ill-favored
fellow like myself, though my shoulders
had not this stoop before they had car
rled my pack over mountain sleeps year
in, year out. for a decade. Likewise is 1t
the eternal up hill and down dale that has
given me these shackelly joints. Did
you never notice that it is ever thus with
the mOuntaIneer?
lR11f to nId ~. S,S1,r I'll.
wed with Toni Meisner, the handsome
hunter, L could not stay on in the village,
though L had become aid to my father
and was to succeed him when his earthly
race was run. And so l just turned
rover. Again you have right. sir! a
good bit OF the world have | seen-at
least OF its humpy part-and some queer
hooks has that pack yonder led Inc into,
a misleading companion oft-Jimes. All,
sol you Wanderer, too? But, alas! for
your health? Sorry TO hear that, sir.
But surely you improve in this fine
mountain air? In truth, you look not i'll
81 ALL What-God in heaven from
America? All, then you the greater
traveller are, and more wonderful sights
have seen then ever L nope to sect What
a pleasure must it be to look over the
great rolling ocean, or even across d
prairie, and with never tiresUme mount
ain croWding itself between you and the
fl6W. NO W OuuHE your legs are straight
and firm. But why do you smile? All,
TO be sure, l had forgotten the book
Well, as L said, number one is not much,
ana yet to me il is dear. 1t is from
memory drawn, not from nature, as are
the most here. Look at those few care
less strokes, they represent the river aud
above you see the bridge. This young
man about to leap-Ach, can you believe
it's poor Jakob Schmidt, and the old
woman seiZing his arm is the person
have to thank for preventing the crime,
Tor making me see that life was not mine
10 take. She it was who gave me cour-
age to begin new life, trying to forget the
Old. SO. by slow degrees L did leave the
Old IN the mlsts Of the past, save that
Later on. for time, it all came back-but
of that again, sir.
But-O pitiful Mary!-at first there was
nothing haZy about it, all so glaringly,
painfully clear, and so eyer-present, it
seemed indeed an eternity ere the mists
had gathered thick enough TO soften the
pain. Well, this old trau-look once,
Herr PastOr-she is crooked and shriv-
elled; you might well call her witch, and
yet she proved my guardian angel. She
1t was who lent me money enough to
start my pack, and many night, weary
and worn, and almost discouraged, have
I found comfortable shelter beneath
her humble root, and bit of cheer that
gave me the strength needed to bear the
load on my heart as well as the burden
on my back. Ay, ay, you have right!
4 heap heavier the former, in those days
at least! a likenessi Ay, with truth
L may say, any who knew Frau Diele
would recognize here her. For she
aver wore such kerchief on her breast;
then, like this, she was broad and short,
with the nose long and sharp. Alas!
yes, she is long dead. Herr Pastor.
Now the second page will explain how
l came 10 own this book and take the idea
of sketching on my travels. One day [
had lost my way-it seemed that never
would 1 reach the village whore l had
planned 10 stop over night. Nothing but
mOuntains-Ach, the never-ending noun
Gains? So steep to climb, so treacherous
30 descend, and no sooner one done with
than another rose blocking the way! Oh,
how might one rejoice upon a prairie,
with view OF the far distance; some idea
indeed of what lay before one!
Well-would you believe it, sir?-on
one Of the Hottest. toughest passes l
found young artist at work-American
like yourself, ana also as friendly. A
national trait, nayhap? Weary is an in
sufficient word to rightly express my
feelings. and. glad OF the sight of a hu-
man being, l dropped me on to the
ground TO watch the artist slap color on
30 canvas. l had as boy been hand to
scratch off bit of picture myself, but.
God in Heaven! how he could make the
strokes tell Trees sprang up as though
by magic, mountain peaks peered all at
once from the clouds, glistening as though
sun-touched after rain; the rocks took on
every variety of hue. and all so true TO
nature! ''What will you take," he said
presently, ITO sit:an hour as a model?
need figure in the foreground, you
see. So-iust as you are, half-reclining,
with your long-stemmed pipe in your
mouth, hat tipped back-good! And
al hit fI1rf hnr