The Starkville news. (Starkville, Miss.) 1902-1960, 1905-06-02

you not Gretel Schmitt?''
Eyes, indeed, it is I, Frau Lopie."
''But what are you doing here?
thought you had gone to the city"
''Have you not heard? My poor dear
mother is dead"
Zach Himmel! Is that true? l saw
her at the fair on Thursday, we talked
together, and she was perfectly we'll
then"
Dear me!" said her companion, one
Of those who know everything before
it has happened. "Yes, they told me
today that poor Frau Schmitt was
gone. A good woman she was, too"
Indeed she was. How did mt hap
pen-an accident, pernaps?" inquired
Dame Lopie, feelingly.
Il do not know" sobbed Gretel. II
heard the news to-day, in Berlin, and
l started home Immediately"
At half-past nine she left the coach
and fastened along her way over the
two miles which still separated her
from the farm.
The bright moon shone full on the
road, turning the soft snow to silver
and throwing into strong relief the
black skeleton Of the trees, despoiled
of their leaves.
Alone for the first time since she
had read the sad news, Gretel thought
of her mother. Before her the lonely
road stretched across the white fields
like a dark ribbon, and disappeared
into the shadow of the forest.
The poor little lady's maid thought
longingly of the coach she had left,
of the compartment full of people, and
the noise and hustle of Berlin. Oh,
and the still more fearful noises!
AS she drew near the woods her
heart began to beat like a trip-ham-
mor. 1t seemed as though voices were
whispering in her ears and white
forms pointed through the bushes at
her side.
Suddenly, overcome with terror,
Gretel began to run, running until
she was out of breath and her flying
veil caught on the bushes and bram-
bles, leaving each clothed in mourn
ing.
At length she emerged into the
moonlight once more, and in another
moment was safe in the familiar court
yard of her fathers farm.
Out of breath, she paused for an in
slant on the threshold.
At the same moment the door op-
ened, and Gretel terror stricken, saw
the figure of her mother standing be-
fore her!
The little lady's maid gave a pierc-
ing shrek, and fell back, crying:
Go away, go away, mamma! You
make me afraid. for you are dead."
Dame Schmitt was equally staaled,
but, drawing her daughter within the
warm cottage, she said, soothingly:
But | am not dead, Gretel You
are crazy. Why should l be dead?
Come, drink this warm milk, and
then you will feel better"
The next day when Max came home
from school, be bounded toward his
sister, whom he had not yet seen, cry
ing:
'Tell me, Gretel. wasn't that a
ina letter that l wrote you for New
Years day? Don't you think you
ought to give me little present for
my trouble?"
Naughty boy!" cried Getel, indig.
nantly. "You ought to be given a
fine spanking, that's what"
"But why?" protested the boy. 81
promised I would write you letter on
New Years day, and did. Why were
Won not nlaaSad 2"
"Do you know what you wrote me,
stupid?"
"Of course l know! Here, will
show you"
And, fumbling in his bag Of books,
Max drew out little volume worn by
much use.
Look yourself. here are the models
for New Years letters, and there was
only one which began my dear sis
ter Don't throw the book on the
floor, Gretel. for big Maurice lent it
to me, and he might thrash me-"
"And what did it say. this fine let
ter" demanded Dame Schmitt.
ut said that you were dead and that
I must come home to the funeral Here
it is" added Gretel taking the unfor-
tunate epistle from her pocket.
Dame Schmitt shuddered at the
thought of her funeral, but, as she
unfolded the beautiful sheets of pa
per, with its roses and doves and
hearts, she was filed with a deep re-
spect.
"I don't know what it says" she
remarked. as she held it UPSIDE down,
"but it is easy to see that It is fine
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