The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1898-08-18
Where They Found Her
A Tale OF the WestphA allan
Geistersehers.
By JOSEPHINE CLIFFOR

Schucking, In his book, "Das Roman
tische West phalen," says that these men
are dying out, and the power to fore
see is growing very rare in old West
phalia.
1t is not source of pleasure to the
men themselves, this strange gift to
foreten the death and burial of their
fellowmen, and they would willingly
dispense with it if they might. In my
earliest youth saw one of these spoken
kicker or geisterseher, and l remember
him very well. A tall, ungainly man,
was old Nolte; with grayish hair, kind
expression on his face, with ligbt-blue,
melancholy eyes, that stood out of mis-
head with terror, people said, when he
had one of his visions, called vorgesicht.
lie was II baker by trade, and his APP
prentices said that they had seen him,
in the middle of the night, leave the
kneading-trough without moments
warning, and with glazed eyes walk
through the house t. the street, and
there with straining eyes peer through
the darkness, moaning and wringing
his hands as in deepest grief. Pres
emily he would begin to count: zone,
two, three"-sometimes up to ten, and
more.
1t was then that he counted the num-
der of mourners who followed the dead;
and he knew who they were, too; but
he never could be made to tell. He
would tell the sexton, who was the
grave digger, to prepare grave, either
for child or a grown person, as the
ease might be; he would tell the color
of the horses that drew the wagon with
the coffin; but, if he knew, he never told
who was inside the dread casket.
l must explain that Petershagen,
only Il small village itself, contained the
parish church and graveyard; and the
country people of the other villages,
Eldagsen, Dotenhauscn and Maaslingen,
had to bring their dead here to bury
them. AS there were no hearses in the
rural districts, the coffin was loaded on
ITO an open wagon, and the mourners
walked behind it on foot and as there
were not many streets in Petershagen,
the road to the church and graveyard
ran directly past old Notes house.
The ancient castle at Petershagen,
on the Weser, partly renovated in the
beginning of this century, had been
assigned as residence to my father
after he had quilted the army
tat the close of the NapOleonic
wars. lie had entered civil service in
Prussia, and as surveyor and civil en-
igineer, was engaged in retransferring
into German measurement the land
which during Napoieon's occupancy
had been divided ard cut up as best
suited the French. 1t was ii labor of
many years, and father had large
staff of field help and office clerks,
skilled geometricians and chainbear-
ers; and a part of the old building was
msed for offices and bureaus, by them.
1t was in the nature of fathers occu-
lpation that he should be guest to-day
at castle or manor house of the proud
lest baron in the land, while the next
hay would find him at the hof of some
Bauer, no less proud of his estate and
descent than the nobleman on his edel-
tEitZ. For there men, though we call
them peasants, slightingy, and who
wear the dress of the peasant of finest
cloth, with buttons of silver, to be sure
are as proud, and prouder, than titled
mobility; and their estates, or bauer
hofe, are often in better condition and
of greater money value than those of
their more aristocratic neighbors.
For myself, have very pleasant rec
objections Of tn. bauerhOf at Eldagsen,
where | spent one whole happy day in
imy earliest childhood 1t happened one
morning that fath-r, rumblipg along
I'm our old caleche, overlook Yette, the
nurse maid, with his two youngest in
charge, and I. the ol6est of the two
tset up a howl to be roken along to
IEldagsen. Of course, the bauer and his
sister paid me every possible attention,
land I was fed and petted all day long
The sister had face like an apple
blossom pink and white, and her name
twas Louse-Which is abbreviated to
Wieschen, in Low German dialect, and
pronounced Veeshen-and the last
thing | could remember that night was
that as Veeshen laid me, fast asleep
into the old calche her long, faxen
ibrads swept my face as she stopped
over me.
Perhaps the only living soul in the
whole country who had no faith in old
lNolte and his weird power, was
young man on fathers staff, skilled
Igeometrician, who laughed at every
thing he did not understand. He was
with father almost constantly. though
he did not belong to Westphalia. He
came from the Rhine. and held lighter
views Of life than the dull though hon
Jest people on the Weser. He gave
more particular offanse to the old sex
ton. who swore that IN every instance
the old baker had been correct in his
prophecy.
In the castle grounds, below the ter
race, there was an avenue defendu-at
least in summer time. when the berries
were ripe. 1t was Icing walk, bordered
by hedges of gooseberries, currants
and raspberries; and the female serv-
ants of the family knew well enough
that while they kept my mouth and
that of my little sister filled with ber-
ries, my mother would never discover
that it was here they came for their