Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-06-17


Ghristlieb was white.
Father Trasiko, such a thing is
impossible, - he stammered.
"Then go your way, you dullard,
and put Swanada out of your mind. "
"And will you keep your word?"
Again the old man laughed loudly.
g will be food for the fishes on the
day that break it. I"
"Give me twelvemonth for it,.
Trasiko nodded Grossly. He saw how
the young mans eyes shone as if with
prophecy. Who could tell, perhaps the
Christian gods We're more willing to
help their own than were the unfriend-
ly water spirits.
So they parted.
As the little boat was again launched
in the foaming tide Christlieb threw
himself Oh his knees and prayed: ''Giye
me sign, o merciful Saviour, to tell
me if thou wilt bless my work and
bring thy holy cross to everlasting hon
Or Oh this coast. Then will I go out i'll
to the world comforted, knowing that
shall return to happiness :"
And as he turned his head again to
look back joyful Hosanna'' burst
from his lips, for up Oh the dunes stood
Swanada and stretched out her arms
longingly, SO that her figure was out
lined against the sky in the form of O
slender cross.
Thus the saints answered his prayer.
ChIistlieb laid down to rest in his
boat and saw a wonderful dream pic
ture. An island projected from the blue
sea, sandy and unsafe like the hillock
upon which Trasiko's hut was built.
The loose earth sank into the waves,
breaking up and dissolving in utter help
lessness Then down from the clouds
came a bright angel bearing in his
hands an insignificant looking gray
plant, thorny and hard, with wonderful
jagged leaves. He planted it i'll the arid
sand, one little stalk beside another.
And see there, with what magic power
it shoots up and becomes strong inter
| laced wall that holds the earth firmly
together with its network of / 200 roots,
| And the angel turned his smiling face
toward the young seaman and pointed
| to the work of his hands.
Ohristlieb awoke and thanked God
and praised him. Then he set forth to
find the island through the boundless
seas Of the world.
The sun rose and sank again into the
water; stars watched over the solitary
little boat and threatening clouds thick
ened around the mast; storm and tenn
pest played their wild game and pulled
at the golden anchor of faith which
love and the vision had cast i'll the
heart of the young seaman.
At last he espied it, the longed for
island, standing high and uneven above
the sea, glistening i'll the light of the
morning sun. The seaman raised his
hands joyfully and cried, God be
praised, have found thee, thou prom
Used angels landr'
There grew the gray, thorny weed
that was to give him his happiness, and
he uprooted the plants and loaded his
vessel to the edge with them until
there was scarcely room for himself.
"Hoist the sail-yo holland away for
the distant coast Of the Baltic!"
Hi How the waves rose; how the
white foam crests beat i'll anger against
the weak timber And what torment
to be confined to the narrow place for
days and weeks, stung until he bled by
the sharp leaves and thorns whenever
he moved, wounds on all his limbs, a
very torture chair! Should he throw the
weed overheard, goaded as he was by
the unceasing pain? No; rather let their
needles draw his last drop of blood.
But the task became harder and harder
The sun burned; the gray thistles
dropped their wilted heads. With a
prayer Christlieb reached for his last
flask of water and shared it with his
charges. Then shone rainbow in the
sky, and wind sprang up and carried
the little ship, as if with magic hands,
to the faraway shore.
"Swanada! Swanadar'
There she stood, weeping for happi-
ness, and stretched out her arms to he1
loved one
Christlieb planted the thistles on the
shore Of the Baltic sea, and Trasiko's
dunes We're as firm as the cliffs. The
old mans heart was softened when he
saw the power of the Christians God,
and he laid the hand of his daughter in
that of the young seaman.
Bright glowed the sea with purple
and gold Through the thistles there
surged and rustled sound as Of thou
sand voiced psalter, and on the hill the
first cross was raised.
Many hundred years have passed. On
the strand Of Zoppot the bells of the
Lord ring; the golden sign of faith
shines from the tower of the church.
No trace is to be found on the white
sand of Trasiko's hut It is gone, and
long, long forgotten. But one thing re-
mains-the gray thistle, the protector Of
the dunes, that was once brought with
pain from over the sea- 1t grows and
spreads as legacy left by the true sea
man. Few know now Of Christlieb but
to this day the spiny, unlovely weed,
which we know as sea holly, is called
in the language Of the people "seaman's
faith. From the German For Short
Stories
Polite Lunatic.
A st. Louis jury which acquitted a