Evening star., 1925-05-31
Little Fraulein and the Big World
BY IDA II. WYLIE.
Copyright by International Magazine Co.

Kindchen. He must have had His
reasons. The French are worse, per
haps."
But my mother"
"Ah. there now, She was a sweet
soul. II only she could have been a
good German! But she couldn't
Blood is blood my dear. You can't
get away from that"
What does II mean-blood being
blood, Frau Hildebrandt?"
"Eh-what? Ma. 1t just means you
are what you are. That's what II
means"
What am u"
Frau Hildebrandt looked across the
table. A vague alarm stirred at the
| bottom Of her good-natured soul. She
said solemnly and reassuringly:
You are Fraulein auf und zu und
Won Arnstein. PrutWitz. You must
your head high, Kindche'. You must
be your fathers daughter real
German little girl"
But Trudchen sat very still. She
didn't ask any more questions. 1t was
OF no use. Frau Hildebrandt wouldn' 4
tell her the truth. She would have to
find 1t out for herself. Even now she
was beginning TO understand. Be
cause OF her poor little mother there
| blood. So that she couldn't live any
more in her own country, and her own
people could never love her.
Perhaps going away was little like
dying. People were sorry. The Frau
Backerin came to the station with
Frau Hildebrandt and brought three
| pretZel.
Because, she said. solemnly, lit is
long journey and you will be hun
cry"
And she was tidgety and rather
about something.
Frau Hildebrandt tied a label round
Trudchen's neck with her name and
English address, and felt her pockets
| to see that the purse and the precious
passport were all safe. Without the
passport, evidently, one came to a bad
end. And the guard took his tip and
| said Jawohl," and looked at Trud'
chen earnestly, so that he should rec
ognize her. She was so small that she
| might be easily overlooked. And then
| Trudchen sat in her corner by the
window, and the platform slid away,
carrying with it two stout women, one
of whom was crying. And Trudchen
| would have cried, too, IL she hadn't
been Fraulein auf-und-zu and all the
rest of it, because Frau H.ldebrandt
| in spite of everything, was fond OF
| her. And that was wonderful. But
| instead she sat stiff1y, with her hands
| in their little black cotton gloves. fold
ed on her lap. and her mouth com
pressed, and cried inside. Which, as
, everybody knows, is so much, much
worse.
The carriage was jammed tight with
people. They were all strangers, and
| yet they were so like everybody else
, that Trudchen felt she knew them
| large, gray-colored people, who hardly
spoke, but every now and then sighed
and stirred in their places like tired
| cattle.
The train rumbled heavily along. II
didn't go very fast. 1t seemed jaded
| and reluctant, like everything else
The fir-clad hills of the Black Forest
dwindled till at last their black crests
| just peered over the horizon. as
though they were saying, Coco. bye
! goodbye. Trudchen," and were hav
! ing a last sad look at her. Then the
dusk came and wiped everything out
| and presently there was nothing left
| but a rushing darkness and the
| streaming torches of the station lights
as they fed past. For the train was
| going fast now. 1t was desperate. II
J didn't care any more.
| The gray people took out bags o
paper and began to eat. Under tn,
dim lamp they looked more than eve
as though they were haif-dead
| Trudchen couldn't eat-not even 8
pretZel. There was hollow place
where her heart was--a terrible, drag
ging feeling as though something yer,
| important in her inside had been tori
out and she was bleeding to death
once she sobbed aloud, and the stout