The Washington times., 1931-10-31

ways knew LLlen WnaI "O"Ao
do.
My mother comes into the
room. Ernst, you are going to
Uncle Karl's tonight, aren't
you?"
"Yes, I suppose So" I reply,
rather diSgruntled.
HE has often sent us things
to eat" she says prudently.
J. nod. From the window I
can see the twilight beginning
outside. Blue shadows are lurk-
ing in the branches Of the
cheStnuts. turn around. did
you often go down by the pop
lars in the summer time,
mother?" I ask suddenly. 'That
must have ben beautiful"
mo, Ernst-not once all this
year."
why not, mother?" I ask in
surprise. "You used to go there
every Sunday before"
Nothing to Eat
I'VE gave up going for walks
altogether" she replies quietly;
lone is always so hungry after
wards. And, you see. we had
nothing to eat"
"Ah, So" I say slowly:
"but Uncle Karl, he always had
enough, I Suppose?'
HE often sent us some, too,
Ernst"
All at once I feel utterly de-
jected What was the good of
it all, Mother?" I say.
She strokes my hand. "It
must have been for some good,
Ernst. The Father in heaven
knows, you may be sure Of
that"
Uncle Karl is the famous
member of our family. He has
a villa and was chief paymaster
during the war.
Wolf accompanies me to the
house, but he must stay outside
my aunt dislikes dogs Of any
sort. I ring.
An elegant man in a dress
suit opens to me. Good eve
ming, sir" I say, rather taken
aback. Then it occurs to me,
he must be a domestic. I had
quite forgotten such things in
the army.
The fellow looks me over as
If he were a battalion COM
mander in civies. I smile, but
he does not smile back. When
I take off my .greatcoat, he
raises his hand as if to help me.
why" I say, to regain his IA
vor, surely an old soldier can do
that much for himself. eh?"
and I hook my things up on a
peg.
Without a word he takes
them down again and with a
superior air and solemnly hangs
them on, a peg near by. "Poor
worm!" I think to myself and
pass in.
Enter Uncle Karl
Uncle Karl comes toward me,
spurs clinking. He greets me
condescendingly. I merely be-
long to the ranks. look at
his flashing regimentals in
establishment. whats on to-
day?" I ask, by way of making
a joke. Roast horse?"
Horse? How do you mean
horSe?" he asks, mystified.
well, wearing spurs to din
ner," I reply, laughing.
He gives me a sour look.
Without meaning to, I seem to
have touched q sore spot with
him. It is often so with these
army office pen-pusherS-they
are prone to swords and spurs.
Before I can explain to him
that I meant no offenSe, my
aunt comes up, rustling. She
is still as she used to be, flat
as an iron board, and her
little black eyes shining as
ever, as though they had been
newly polished on a button
stick. While she is showering
me with a flood Of words, her
quick eyes are glancing con-
tinually here, there and every
where about the room.
I am rather embarrassed,
Too many people for me, too
many women and, worst of all,
too much light. The most we
ever had up the line was an
oil lamp. But these chande-
liers here, they are as merci-
less as bailiffs.& One can hide
nothing from them.
I have to shake hands with
a lot Of people and begin to
perSpire. The men here are
quite different from us out
there. I feel as cumbersome
as a tank in comparison. They
behave as if they were sit
ting in a shop window and
talk as if they were on the
stage. I try cautiously to hide
my hands; the CRIME of the
trenches is ground into them
like poison. I dry them off
surreptitiouSly on my trousers,
but they are Immediately wet
again when I have to shake
hands with a lady.
(TO Be Continued Monday
Copyright, Erichc Maria Remaruue,
1881; distributed by United Feas