The Washington times., 1931-12-05

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for the first time she now wept
aloud. He held her close and
kept repeating: wen look for
a buyer tomorrow-tomorrow
morning, first thing" And
in a storm of resolution, Of hope,
anger and misery he held her
until at last it was silonced; and
the weeping grew feebler and
feebler, until it gave place at
last like a child's, to exhaustion
and quiet breathing.
Sells His All
Two days later Adolf Bethke
sold his house and his work
shop. Soon after he found
rooms in the town and the
furniture was moved in. The
dog had to be left behind. But
hardest of all was to say fare
well to his garden, which was
then just in flower. It was not
easy to go away so, and Adolf
did not know what might come
of it. But his wife was ready
and resigned.
Adolph squats in the kitchen
and cannot understand why
things do not get Better. At
night, after the paper has been
read and the food cleared from
the table, they sit down oppo-
site each other; then the va
cancy of gloom settles down
over the place, until he is
dazed with listening and brood
ing. His wife makes herself
something to do, she polishes
the stove perhaps, and when he
says, Come, Marie" then she
puts away her cloths and her
emery paper and comes. And
when, pitifully alone, he draws
her down to him and whispers,
"We'll do it yef," then she mods.
But she continues silent; she is
not gay as he would like.
He does not realize that it
is as much his fault as hers
that they have grown away
from each other during the
four years they have been
separated and that now they
are only a burden to each
other. "Say something, can't
you?" he reproaches her. She
looks scared, and complying
she saws something. What can
she talk about? When does
anything ever happen here in
this house, in her kitchen?
But when things so stand be-
tween two people that they
must talk, already it is beyond
their power ever to say enough
to mend them. Talk IS good
only when happiness is behind
it; then it runs easy and light;
but where man is unhappy,
what help is there then in such
tickle, ambiguous things as
words? They can only make
matters worse.
Adolf Smells a Rat
Adolf follows his wife's move
ments with his eyes, and be-
hind them he sees another. a
younger, light-hearted woman,
the wife of his memory whom
he cannot forget. Then sus-
picion flares up and in exasper-
alton he says, "Still thinking
of him, are you?" And as
she looks at him in surprise,
he knows the injustice OF
what he has said; yet for that
very reason he plunges in still
deeper: "You must be! You
weren't like this before! What
did you come back for. then?"
Every word does violence TO
himself-but who is silent Tor
that? He talks on until his
wife retreats into the corner
and stands up on the curb of
the sink, out Of reach OF the
light; and again she is crying
like a child who is lost. Ach,
but we are all children-fool-
ish, lost children-and ever
the night stands around our
house!
He can bear it no longer; he
goes out and wanders aimlessly
through the streets. He stands
before shop windows without
seeing. He goes wherever there
is light. Electric trans ring,
motorcars hoot past, people
bump into him. Are you
happy?" he asks and goes with
them, glad to see and to hear
something fresh. But after
wards he mopes around again.
He will not go home, and yet
he would like to go. He makes
the round of the pubs and
drinks himself tight.
So I find him, and listen to
him and look at him as he sits
there, blear-eyed choking out
his words and drinking still
Adolf Bethke, the warieSt, best
soldier!-the most faithful COM
rade, that has helped so many
and saved so many!-Who was
sheltered and comfort, and
mother and brother to me so
often out there, when the para
chute stars hovered and the
nerves were broken by long at
tack and threatening death.
We slept side by side in the wet
dul outs; and when I was sick,
he would cover me. He could
do everything, he was never at
a loss. And now here he is,
caught in the barbed wire, tear
ing his hands and his face, and
already his eyes have become
bleared.