New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1917-01-28

is my widow. And all in ALL we were married
only three years"
He was short, thin man. with protruding
Adams apple, and made most pitiful appear
ance as he now, with his. sharp pointed nose
tilted downward, gazed sorrowfully at the hot
dry sand reaches of Porto Ferrajo.
His friend, who was twice as tall and twice
as broad laid heavy hand consolingly on
Schuberth's shoulder
Three years? Well, that was something.
| had only six weeks of married life and for
for the last two of them | was shut no in the
barracks Ny wife said that if she had known
that, she would have thought twice about
marrying me. She wanted to have a husband
who was disqualified for military servce-bot
yet in good health. | filed the bill. For twenty
years had paid taxes as military ineligible.
But on the second muster they held me, in
spite of my fatty heart. My wife has had no
luck with her husbands-the first one killed
the second one taken prisoner"
Poor womanl Is she pretty?" asked the
schoolmaster.
81 think so. Very trim blond, a good fig
ure"
"And your Wife" continued the coffee house
proprietor, chow was she?"
"AIso good looking" said the schoolmaster.
Yet. as pedagogue, he didn't wish 10 seem TO
overvalue externals. So he added, blushing
little: "And what is the main thing-good
natured, sincere, an excellent manager"
"A true Viennese-just like my Wife
EYES, the kind of wife which you can't find
anywhere but in Vienna"
And they both began-the schoolmastcr and
the coffee house proprietor-to sing the praises
Of Viennese women, whose attractiveness was
in their very blood, and who seemed in the
heat of this Italian midday doubly seductive
in their freshness and grace Wild especially
spoke with true enthusiasm Of his charmcr
as bridegroom should speak Of his bride
He praised everything hair, her teeth,
her skin, her moral qualities, her warm heart,
her lively temperament. And how much taste
she had, how well she knew how TO dress and
how handsome she looked
How well her mourning became her" the
coffee boiler exclaimed, in sort of dreamy &c.
stasy But he realized that that remark was
not exactly tactful. and passed quickly over
into the neutral territory Of cookery, lsuding
his better half as expert in that art.
Her anseseed cakes had made an especial
impression on him. This was a culinary spe-
cialty of hers, over which, he avowed the en-
tire patronage of the coffee house had raved.
Schuberth could understand that. He himself
recollected with envy-most of all in the days
of sem-starvaton which he had gone through
as a prisoner-a certain meal cake which his
spouse used TO bake for him now and then for
supper.
1T was also made with aniseseed," he said.
"Anise schnitten. Poldi always had TO bake
them for the whole family"
"Was your wife's name Podi?" asked the
coffee house proprietor.
Eyes, Pold And what was your wfes
name?'
"Tini"
"And she was a widow"
Eyes; widow with no children. After
certain"-
But he never finished the sentence. For an
Italian under-oficer, who had, just con-
cluded his siesta, appeared in the doorway OF
the Office, and, balancing himself on the door
sill, peevishly called something to the two pris-
oners.
Continued on Page Sir