Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1899-11-23
BY
OLIVE
SCHREINER.
A TALE OF LIFE IN THE !.
BOER REPUBLIC.


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES
This information having been .on-
veyed to the Boer woman. she. after
some further conversation. appeared
slightly Modified. but remained firm to
her conviction that the mans designs
were evil
"For, dear Lord" she cried, "al
Englishmen are ugly! But was there
ever such red rag nose thing with
broken boots and crooked eyes before?
Take him to your room!" she cried to
the German. But all the sin he does
lay at your door,"
The German having told him how
mattsss were arranged, the stranger
made a profound bow to Tant' Sannie
and followed his host, who led the way
to his own little room.
II thought she would come to her
better self SOON" the German said joy
ously. "Tant' Sannie is not wholly
bad-far from it, far" Then, seeing
his companion cast a furtive glance at
him. which he mistook for one of sur
prise, he added quickly: 'Ah, yes, yes,
we are all primitive people here-not
very lofty. We deal not in titles.
Every one is Tanta and Oom-aunt
and uncle. This may be my, room,"
he said, opening the door. 1T is
rough; the room is rough-not pal
ace, not quite. But it may be better
than the fields, little better" he said,
glancing round at his companion.
Come in, come in. There is SOME
thing to eat, a mouthful. not the fare
of emperors or kings, but we do not
starve, not yet" he said. rubbing his
hands together and looking round with
a pleased, half nervous smile on his
old face.
MY friend. my dear friend" said
the stranger, selling him by the hand,
may the Lord bless you, the Lord
bless and reward you-tle God of the
fatherless and the stranger. But for
you l would this night have slept in
the fields, with the dews of heaven
upon my head" SD
Late that evening Lyndall came
down to the cabin with the Germans
rations. Through the tiny square win
dow the light streamed forth, and
without knocking she raised the latch
and entered. There was fire burning
on the hearth, and it cast its ruddy
glow over the little dingy room, with
its worm eaten rafters and mud floor
and broken, whitewashed walls, a curl
GUS little place, filed with all manner
Of articles. Next to the fire was a
great tool box; beyond that the little
bookshelf with Its we'll worn books;
beyond that, in the corner, a heap of
filled and empty grain bags. From the
rafters hung down straps, "reims," old
boots, bits Of harness and string Of
onions. The bed was In another COR
ner, covered by a patchwork quilt Of
faded red lions and divided from the
rest of the room by blue curtain,
now drawn back. On the mantelshelf
was an endless assortment of little
bags and stones, and on the wall hung
map of south Germany, with q red
line drawn through it to show where
the German had wandered. This place
was the one home the girls had known
for many a year. The house where
Tant' Sannie lived and ruled was a
place to sleep in, to eat in. not to be
happy in. 1t was in vain she told
them they were grown too old to go
there. Every morning and evening
found them there. Were there not too
many golden memories hanging about
the old place for them to leave 1t?
Long winter nights, when they had
sat round the fire and roasted potatoes
and asked riddles and the old man had
told of the little German village where,
so years before, little German boy
had played at snowballs and had car
ried home the knitted stockings of q
little girl who afterward became Wal
dos mother, did they not seerl to see
the German peasant girls walking
about with their wooden shoes and
yellow, braided hair and the little chill
dren eating their suppers out of little
wooden bowls when the good mothers
called them in to have their milk and
potatoes?
And were there not yet better times
than these = moonlight nights, when
they romped about the door. with the
old man, yet more child than any Of
them, and laughed till the old roof of
the wagon house rang?
Or, best of all. were there not warm,
dark, starlight nights, when they sat
together on the doorstep. holding each
others hand, singing German hymns,
their voices rising clear in the still
night air. till the German would draw
away his hand suddenly to wipe quick
ly tear the children must not see?
Would they not sit looking up at the
stars and talking of them-of the dear
Southern Cross; red, fiery Mars; Orion,
with his belt, and the Seven Mysteli-
Gus Sisters-and fall to specializing
over them? How old are they? Who
dwelt in them? And the old German
would say that perhaps the souls we
loved lived In them. There, in that lit
tie, twinkling point, was perhaps the
little girl whose stockings he had car
ried home, and the children would look
up at it lovingly and call it Uncle OF
to's STAR Then they would fall to