Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1900-03-22

may the Lord bless you, tie Lord
bless and reward you-the 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
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 a 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, whitcwashed walls, a curl
GUS little place, filed with all manner
Of articles Next to the fire was
great tool box; beyond that the little
bookshelf with its well worn books;
beyond that, in the corner, heap Of
filed and empty grain bags. From the
rafters hung down straps, "reims, old
boots, bits of harness and Il 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
a map of south Germany, with n red
line drawn through il to show where
the German had wandered. This place
was the one home the girls had known
for many n year. The house where
Tant' Sannie lived and ruled was n
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 90
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,
30 years before, n little German boy
had played ut snOwballs and had car
ried home the knitted stockings of
little girl who afterward became Wal
dos mother, did they not seem to see
the German peasant girls walking
about with their wooden shoes ana
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
potatoesf
And were there not yet better times
than these - moonlight nights, when
they romped about the door, with the
old man. yet more Il 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 sun
night air, TIL the German would draw
away his hand suddenly 10 wipe quick
" a tear the children must not seer
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 Mysteri-
Gus Sisters-and fall to specializing
over them? How old are they2 Who
dwelt in them? And the old German
would say that perhaps the souls we
| loved lived in them. There, In that lit
| tie, twnllllng point, was perhaps the
| little girl whose stockings he had car
ried home. and the children would look
| up at 1t lovingly and call Il Uncle OF
| to's star" Then they would fall to
| deeper spcculations-of the times and
| seasons wherein the heavens shall be
rolled together as n scroll and the stars
| shall fall as n fig tree casteth her un-
| timely figs and there shall be time no
| longer. when the Son of Man shall
come in his glory and all his holy an
| gels with him" In lower and lower
| tones they would talk till at last they
| fell into whispers. Then they would
wish good night softly and walk home
| hushcd and quiet.
Tonight. when Lyndall looked in
Waldo sat before the fire watching n
pot which slmmcred there, with his
slate and pencil In his hand. Ills ia
ther sat at the table buried In the col
umns of n three weeks old newspaper,
and the stranger lay stretched on the
| bed In the corner, fast asleep, his
mouth open, his great limbs stretched
out loosely, betokenlng much weari-
ness The girl put the ratlons down
upon the table, snuffed the candle and
stood looking at the figure on the bed.
Uncle Otto" she said presently. lay
Ing her hand down on the newspaper
and causing the old German to look up
over his glasses, "how long did that
man say he had been waltingP
"Since this morning, poor fellow! A
| gentleman, not accustomed to walking
horse died poor felloww said the
| German pushing out his lip and glanc-
ing commscratngly over his specta-
| cles in the direction OF the bed where
! the stranger lay, with his flabby double
| chin and broken boots through which
| the flesh shOnc.
"And do you believe him, Uncle OF
| to?"
believe him2 Why, Of course | do.
lie himself told me the story three
| times distinctly"
"If" said the girl slowly, "hc had
walked for only one day, his boots
would not have looked so, aud IT,
Ifr' said the German, starting up In
his chair, lrrltated that any one should
| doubt such lrrefraglble evidence. eff!
| why, hc told me himself! Look how
| hc lies there" added the German pa
| thctically, worn out, poor fellow! We
| have something for him, though
pointing with his forenngcr over his
| shoulder 10 the saucepan that stood on
| the FIRE I'VE are not cooks not
| French cooks, not quite-but It's drink
ublc. drukablc | think better than
| nothing, ! think" he added nodding
| bis head In jocund manner that
| cvnccd his high estimation OF the con
| fonts of the saucepan ana his profound
! satisfaction therein. "Blsh, bish, my
chlckenw he said MS Lyndnll tapped
her little foot up ana down upon the
floor "Blsh. blsh, my chicken! You
will wake him"
lie moved the candle so TINT his own
| head might intervene between II and
| the slocpcr's face. ana, smoothing his
newspaper, hc adjusted his spc'stacles
| 10 read.
| The child's gray blnclI eyes rested on
! the figure on the bed, then turned 10
! the German. then rested on the figure
/ ngaln
II think hc Is liar! Good night
! Uncle Otto" she said slowly, turning
| to tho door
! Long nrtcr she had gone the German
| folded his paper up mothodicaily and
! put # IN his pocket
Q.