The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1918-04-03

went shopping.
She reached the palace again in
time to dress for dinner. Somewhere
on that excursion she had left the let
ter, TO be sent to its destination over
the border by special messenger that
night.
Prince Ferdinand William Otto, at
the moment of her return, was pre-
pairing for bed. He washed himself,
with Oskar standing by, holding a
great soft towel. Even the towels
were too large. And he brushed his
teeth, and had two drinks of water,
because a stlfiish feeling in his throat
persisted. And ut last he crawled up
into the high bed that was so much
too big for him, and had to crawl out
again, because he had forgotten his
prayers.
When. everything was done, and the
hour of putting out the light could no
longer be delayed, he said good night
to Oskar, who bowed. There was
Then, wbisk 1t was dark, with only
the moon face of the cathedral clock
for company. And as 1t was now
twenty minutes past seven, the two
hands dropped until 1t looked like
face with cruel mouth, and was
really very poor company.
Oskar, having bowed himself into
the corridor and past the two sentries.
reported to a very great dignitary
across the hall that his royal highness
the Crown Prince Ferdinand William
Otto was In bed. And the dignitary
had chance to go away and get his
dinner.
But alone in his great bed, the
crown prince was shedding few
shamefaced tears. He was extremely
ashamed of them. He felt that under
no circumstances would his soldier
father have behaved so. He reached
out and secured one of the two clean
folded handkerchiefs that were always
placed on the bedside stand at night,
and blew his nose very loudly. But
he could not sleep.
He gave Miss Braithwaite time to go
to her sitting room, and for eight
o'clock to pass, because once every
hour, all night young gentleman Of
the court, appointed for this purpose
and dubbed "wet nurse" by jealous
comrades, cautiously opened his door
and made a stealthy circuit of the
room, to see that all was well.
The crown prince got up. He neg
lected to put on his bedroom slippers,
of course, and in his bare feet he
padded across the room to the study
door. 1t was not entirely dark. A
night light burned there. 1t stood on
swords. Beneath the swords, in
burnt wood frame, were the pictures
of his father and mother. Hedwig had
given him a woodworking outfit at
Christmas, and he had done the work
himself. 1t consisted of the royal
arms, somewhat out Of drawing and
not exactly in the center of the frame,
and a floral border Of daisies, ex-
tremely geometrical, because he had
drawn them in first with compass.
The boy, however, gave the pictures
only hasty glance and proceeded, In
businesslike manner to carry a
straight chair to the cabinet. On the
top shelf sat the old cloth dog. Its
shoe-button eyes looked glazed with
sleep, but it's ears were quite alert.
Very cautiously the crown prince I'M
locked the door, stepped precariously
I'd the lower shelf of the cabinet,
hung there by one royal hand, and
lifted the dog down.
At nine o'clock the wet nurse took
off his sword in another room and
leaned it against a chair. Then he
examined his revolver, in accordance
with q formula prescribed by the old
king. Then he went in and examined
the room with flashlight, and lis
tened to the crown princes breathing.
He had been a croupy baby. And, at
last, he turned the fiashlight on to the
bed. A pair of shoe-button eyes
stared at him from the pillow.
swell, I'm -" said the wet nurse.
And went out, looking thoughtful.
In shop where, that afternoon, the
countess had purchased some Lyons
silks, one of the clerks, Peter Niburg.
was free at last. At seven o'clock,
having put away the last rolls of silk
on the shelves behind him, and covered
them with calico to keep off the dust;
having given a final glance of disdain
at the clerk in the linens, across;
having reached under the counter for
his stiff black hat of good quality and
his silver-topped cane; having donned
the hat and hung the stick to his arm
with two staggering gestures; having
prepared his offensive, so to speak, he
advanced.
Between Peter Niburg and Herman
Spier of the linens, was feud. Its
source, In the person of a pretty
cashier, had gone, but the feud re-
manned. 1t was of the sort that smiles
with the lips and scowls with the eyes,
that speaks pleasantly quite awful
things although IL was Peter Niburg