Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1907-09-26

self; l know it by heart:
Tho in this world of grief and woe,
We scarcely learn ourselves to
know,
When others weep for US some day;
Wen md ourselves, nor part Tor
aye
Very pretty, Frieda, but it seems
to me it is not exactly the epitaph
tor huntsman."
You are indeed right" she said,
and broke few sprays from the ivy;
then she passed on again before me,
over the dark forest path.
When during the vacations, my
mother Travelled with me to my
uncle's, the head forester's, in the
EIarz mountains, the conversation in
the evening had frequently been
about an old great uncle who had
died about the middle of the preced-
! ing century. My grandmother, could
| tell about him, or my old aunt Rieke,
| who was otherwise a most prosaic
person, could relate stories concern
| ing him, as could also the old castel-
Ian Of the castle who used sometimes
to come to the forester's in dressing
gown and slippers to have a little
| chat. A slight odor Of poesie always
! fingered around his form which how
| ever stood out only very indistinctly
from the framework OF stories told
! concerning him. OF the living mem
| bers of the family, none of course
had known him, and only my aged
great grandmother remembered to
have seen hin once, as he lived like a
hermit in the red house with one old
! factotum of a servant, who was at
once cook and companion.
| i remember it well even now"
she was accustomed to say; Il was
was sitting on the garden wall, eat
Ing grapes, for / was not more than
eight or nine years old; it was a cold
! october day; we had already had
some frost, and the foxes had already
lcked the grapes, making them
sweet. There came a man out of the
castle garden, slowly and thoughtfulIy
He looked very singular; his clothes
were old-fashioned, but weel kept.
| and his hair and beard were silvery
white. looked at him in astonish-
ment, and saw him COME nearer: he
| walked along by our wall, and lust
as he got to the spot where 1 wax
bending over the curiosity he looked
up and,-I know nothing more about
his looks, only know that tears stood
IN MS eyes and a few drops stood on
MS White beard, and that l involun-
tarliy, and very respectfully he said:
Good morning. to him. Whether he
returned my greeting or not, | do not
remember, but half hour later the
news flew through the little city:
Prlnce Christian was dead and his
long estranged friend had stood by
his death-bed and closed his eyes. af
ter they had been reconciled,"
Thus spoke my great grandmother.
and then followed mysterious sur
misses and racking of brains how It
had come to pass, that those two.
pound together by an ardent friend
snip, should suddenly part. Some
CIlnes Woman's name was mentioned
put no one knew anything definite
and only the one fact remained: the
SUBJECT denied his friendship to the
prince, and often the latter offered his
hand In reconciliation, it was ALWAYS
rejected with GOODNESS bordering on
contempt, without the patience and
forebearance of the prince. ever be-
ing exhausted. When, however, the
head forester grew old and gray, and
desired to resign his office, then the
red house was made over to him.
and the new fOresters home was an
pointed in the recently built house.
nearer the little city And the hermit
who declined all other princely fav-
orS, with disdain and decision. made
an exception in this case and re-
celVed 1t gratefully, glad to be allowed
TO end his days there After his death
the house went back to the govern.
ment but according to a clause in
the will OF Prince Christian, remained
unoccupied; the rooms were left as
they had been in the owners life
tl1ne, and 1t was only rarely that the
Vaulted hall ever saw a gay hunting
party; only when there was hunting
In this preserve, and the time was
too short for breakfast, to ride a
mile further to the hunting castle.
And gradually the interest waned
in the man about whom the whole
province was wont to shake its head.
The old men died, and the young one
took life'with all its demands on his
restIessly beating heart. I also had
not thought for a long time of the
dead great-uncle, in the green Harz
forest
~ esterday evening my uncle, the.
forester had suddenly brought the
conversation around again to the old
man, and after speaking of many
Things had handed me a small pack
age of gilt-edged paper. and said to
me in solemn voice, l must read
the lines where they had been writ.
TENN the red house: it was the
hte's history of the dead man.
i have not been long in possession
of the manuscript" he added: "by a
strange accident it has fallen into my
hands; the pastor in Bergrode; -but
VIII tell you of that another time"
And down there, at the end of the
shady road. deeply imbedded in the
silence OF the beech forest rose the