Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1913-07-11

P ~.
Europe.

The zugspitze is the highest peah
In Germany; 1t belongs to the Alps
and . panorama a be seen from the
perpetually snow-covered summit that
Is worth while. At the foot of this
giant is the town OF Partenkirchen, q
great place for tourists, but since the
isolation Of the American continent
the number OF visitors has dimin-
ished somewhat
One crisp December morning a tall
young man on skis slid down from
n OF the snow-covered side hills Of
the z~ugspitze. He wore an Alpine o
tune and carried on his back the
usual satchel Of the mountain climber
The sack evidently was heavy, yet he
carried 1t easily.
The early sportsman stopped for q
second or two just about the Tirolean
and Bavarian border. After a short
meditation, he started forward, and
with the agility of a master of the
sport slid downward. jumping down
steep slopes, and soon landed In the
valley. He took a peculiar field glass
from his knapsack and directed II
toward the great peak, moving it un,
til he found o spot that looked to the
unaided eye like a red dot on the
mountain side. It was the deserted
castle of the great Prince Luipold,
once reigning prince of the kingdom
of Bavaria.
When he had focused the glass, he
saw a round, rudy checked man rub
bling his hands vigorously.
1T must be somewhat cool there"
smiled the sportsman.
He drew a red handkerchief and
made some circular movements in the
air with the f1uttering linen, always
watching through his glass. Then,
with a satisfied expression, he placed
the glass and kerchief in their respec
tive places and started toward the
town
The narrow. winding streets were
almost deserted and he used his skis
even through the town.
There were several hotels around
the square; the Golden Eagle and the
Red Star were the most promising
looking, and he selected the latter,
christening the straps of the skis.
he cast them yer his shoulder and
entered the famous old hotel.
At the sound of the strangers foot.
steps in the hall a big, white-aproned
man, whose head was covered with a
Turkish fez, appeared in the doorway
at the end of the hall; in his right
hand he held a murderous looking
knife and In the left a fork. He
greeted the newcomer with great re-
spect; it was surprising to see a guest
at this time of the year. The man of
the skis leaned his knapsack and the
skis against the wall and said, "Guten
morgen. Herr Wirthi"
The big German threw fork and
knife on a table and rubbing his hands
on his apron to remove the grease.
took the strangers sack and carried
it into the Office. There he put a long.
official blank of reporting paper be-
fore him, together with pen and ink.
It took a long time for the stranger
to fill out all the somewhat imperti-
nent questions, but at last 1t was done.
On the last line he wrote in large,
round characters the name:
"Chevalier Sonapo q di Leon"
what can / do for you, chevalier?"
asked the hotel-keeper, who had used
the time to remove his apron and put
on a clean coat.
First of all, I want some break
fast, then a room, as ! would like to
spend q few days here"
The hosts face shone with pleasure
and he led his guest into the small
dining-room.
The chevalier's eyes wandered
around searchingly; they seemed to
penetrate into every nook and corner.
The host returned, followed BY q
girl. who put a snow-white owe on
one of the tables, then steaming hot
rolls were brought in with coffee, but
ter. honey and some eggs.
The chevaiier ate heartily; the early
morning exercise had given him q
splendid appetite. When he had fin
ished, the host offered him some CT.
gars, but he smilingly refused, assur-
ing him that he never used them.
"They are real Saharan, chevalier."
~Saharan? Is that a new brandt"
mot exactly; we have had 1t for
ten years. ever since the successful ir-
rigation of the desert. / understand
that it is even better than the once
famous Havana"
The stranger looked at the host
thoughtfully, then with some hesita'
ton he asked:
what is the name Of the engineer
who planned that project? / have
quite forgotten"
"You are not o German, cheyalier,
otherwise you would know the man
whom all the German-speaking nations
regard with hope; his name L. Count
Won Werdenstein."
The young man started. but recov-
erred himsalf ouicklv. GLOW foolish.