New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-10-08

sleep again. Grandfather! Help me! Help
me to carry him into the house"
The old man blinked couple of times into
his daughters troubled face. Then he hurried
with her. as fast as his old legs could carry
him. He said nothing and asked no questions.
He did not even feel the cold night wind blow
ing on his haggard, emaciated breast which
had been so often racked with violent spells OF
coughing. He ran after his daughter to the
stable and into the garden, stumbling over
shrubbery and roots and rubbing his eyes
again and again with his hand, 80 as to be
quite awake and useful. He followed her until
she pulled up with a start, gathering her forces
together so that she could stand firm, whatever
happened.
The wounded man now lay quite still. His
grooming had ceased, his eyes were closed.
One hand, which before had clutched the earth,
was now lifted and held in its stiffened fingers
an object which it had half drawn out of the
pocket of the opened coat.
'Is-is he's he dead?" whispered the young
wife in alarm.
Eyes, he is dead, grandfather" she cried
aloud.
The old man bent over, lowering the stable
lantern which he had taken from his daughters
trembling hands. ..
"Take hold" he said. "The blood is still
flowing. No, not that way, Hanna. You must
take him by the legs"
She obeyed. The Pickering light of the Ian
tern confused her. She no longer saw an alien
face with coal black harlan alien uniform.
hot +r;o cIo
the breast of loved one, stained the white
skin and ran even to the heart, which seemed
suddenly to stop and never, never beat again.
mo-" she sobbed; "Mercful God, no! Franz
lives. He must live for sakes"
So she helped her father carry the stranger
into the house. Slowly, carefully step by step
through the garden and the paved stable yard.
Then up the stairs to the door of the room in
which for two nights past her bed had stood
unused by the side of her absent husbands.
The grandfather looked up, breathing hard
under his heavy almost lifeless burden. He
did not know whether his daughter would
permit this half-dead stranger to be carried
through that door into her own bedroom.
But she had already pushed the door open
with her elbow. Something drove her on,
forced her to forget all her antipathy to her
alien guest. She knew one thing only: what
you do for this man here, may others do to
your husband over there in their country"
Now the wounded man lay on the wide bed,
on which dropped and crumbled the black
earth clods which had chung to the cloth of his
uniform.
But Frau Hanna did not notice that. Nor
did she notice the dust and dirt stains on the
body, from which her father had removed the
coat in order to look at the wound. The pulse
beat still; the heart throbbed weakly. He was
not dead yet, the French soldier, who, fleeing
and in suffering, had sought refuge in her
quiet, peaceful German garden
Frau Hanna had brought water, bandages
and some antiseptics. The old father had
more than once bound up wound and under
stood thoroughly how TO do it.
He washed the unconscious soldier, stemmed
the flow of the blood with wadding, speaking
no word which betrayed consciousness that
it was an enemy for whom he was performing
this truly Good Samaritan service. Had he
forgotten that only few hours ago, down
here in the gloomy cellar, he had consigned
all Frenchmen to destruction-that he had
clenched in anger the hands with which he
WIS going to strangle every Frenchmsn who
might como his way,