Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1904-04-05

Unfortunately again. he was not studi
Gus. His record in the village school
had been on par with his manual
work. and the family had not even the
consolation of believing that they wert
fostering genius.
In community where practical In
dustry was the highest virtue 1t was
not strange perhaps that he was called
lazy and shiftless. No one knew the
long climbs and tireless vigils he had
undergone in remote solitudes in quest
of his favorites, or. knowing, forgave
him for it. Abstemious. frugal and
patient as he was. even the crusts OF
his fathers table were given him
grudgingly. He often went hungry
rather than ask the bread he had fail.
ed to earn. How his great frame was
nurtured in those days he never knew.
Perhaps the giant mountains recog.
nized some kin in him and fed and
strengthened him after their own fash
ion Even his gentleness was CON
founded with cowardice. dot vos de
hardest" he said simply. 1T Is not
goot to be opligit to half crush your
brudder ven he would make laugh
of you to your sweetheart" The end
came sooner than he expected and. odd
ly enough, through this sweetheart.
"Gottleb," she had said to him one
day, "the English fremde who stayed
here last night met me when | was
carrying some Of those beautiful flow
ers you gave me. He asked me where
they were to be found, and | told him
only you knew. He wants to see you
Go to him. 1t may be luck to you"
Ruetli went. The stranger, an Eng
lish Alpine climber of scientific tastes.
talked with him for an hour. At the
end of that time, to everybody's as
tonishment. he engaged this hopeless
idler as his personal guide for three
months at the sum of francs day.
1t was inconceivable. 1t was unheard
Of The "Englander" was Us mad as
Gottlieb. whose intellect had always
been under suspicion. The schoOlmas-
ter pursed up his lips. The pastor
shook his head. No good could come
of it. The family looked upon II as
another freak Of Gottlieb's. but there
was one big mouth less to feed and
more room in the kitchen. and they
let him go. They parted from him as
ungraciously as they had endured his
presence.
shine in Ruetlis life. association with
his beloved plants and the intelligent
sympathy and direction of cultivated
man. Even In attitudes SO dangerous
that they had to take other and more
experienced guides Ruetli was always
at his masters side. That savants col
lection of Alpine fora eXcelled all pre-
vious ones. He talked freely with
Ruetli OF further work in the future
and relaxed his English reserve so far
as to cOntide to him that the outcome
of their collection and observation
might be book. He gave n flower Il
Latin name in which even the ignorant
and delighted Ruetli could distinguish
some likeness to his own. But the book
was never compiled. In one OF their
later and more difficult ascents they
and their two additional guides were
overtaken by a sudden storm. Swept
from their feet down an icebound slope.
Ruetl alone of the roped together par
ty kept a foothold on the treacherous
incline. Here this young Titan. with
bleeding fingers cinched in a rock
cleft, sustained the struggles and held
up the lives of his companions by that
precious thread for more than in hour
Perhaps ne might have saved them, but
in their desperate efforts 10 regain their
footing the rope slipped upon n jagged
edge of outcrop and parted rs If cut by
a knife. The two guides passed with
out an outcry into obscurity and death.
Ruetli, with last despairing exertion.
dragged to his own level his uncon-
scious master, crippled by broken
leg.
Your true hero is apt to tell his tale
simply. Ruetli did not dwell upon
these details, nor need !. Left alone
upon treacherous ice slope in be-
numbing cold with helpless man,
eight hours afterward he staggered,
half blind. incoherent and inarticulate,
into shelter hut with the dead body
4 IN, hiS cttffnnn1 a
The shelter keepers turned their atten-
ton to Ruetli. who needed it most.
Blind and deliriOus. with scarce
chance for life. he was sent the next
day to the hospital. where he lay for
three months helpless, imbccile and I'M
known. The dead body Of the English
man was identified and sent home. The
bodies of the guides were recovered by
their friends. but no one knew aught OF
Ruetli, even his name. While the event
was still fresh in the minds OF those
who saw him enter the hut with the
body Of his master paragraph ap
pearcd In Berne journal recording tn,
heroism of this nameless man, but i
could not he corroborated or explained
by the den ,nted hero and was present
ly forgotten. Six months from the day
he had left his home he was discharge
cured. He had not kreutZcr in hi.
pocket. He had never drawn his wage.
from his employer. He had preferred
to have them in lump sum that ht
might astonish his family on his re
turn. His eyes were still weak, his
memory feeble. Only his great phys
ical strength remained through his Ions
illness. A few sympathizing traveller.
furnished him with means TO reach hi'
native village, many miles away. Ht
found his family had heard of the los:
of the Englishman and the guides ant
had believed he was one Of them. AL
ready he was forgotten.
"Ven you vOs once peliefed to DC
det," said Ruetli after a philosoplil'
pause and puE. 1T vos not goot to on
deceit peoples. You Oopsets someding'
soomdimes always. Der hole dot yot
hef made in de grount, among youl
frients and your family vos covered uI
alretty. You are loocky If you will no
fint some vellers shtanding upon 1t
My trent. ven you vos dink det, shtay
det. be det. and you will lif happy"
But your sweetheart | said eager
ly.
A slight gleam of satire stole int
Ruetlrs light eyes. "My sweetheart vel
| vos dinlis Diet is der miller engase6
d lro,nIy II Ia mnnch hpttpr dan Il