The Washington times., 1931-11-26

One dismal Sunday morning I
get up early, put on my things
and go to the station to visit
Adolf Bethke. This is a good
idea-for so shall sit again with
a human being really dear to
me, and by the time I get back
the dreary Sunday will be over.
arrive there in the after
noon. The gate creaks and the
dog in his kennel begins to bark.
1 walk quickly down the path
between the fruit trees. Adolf
is at home. His wife is there,
too, but as I enter and shake
hands with Adolf, she leaves the
room. sit down. We talk,
and after awhile Adolf says:
You're surprised, I suppose,
Ernst, eh"
How do you mean, Adolf?"
Finding her back again"
"No-seems to me that's your
affair, Adolf
He pushes a dish OF fruit to-
ward me. Have an apple" I take
one and offer him a cigar. He
bites off the end and goes on.
We'll, it was this way, Ernst
I sat and sat here. and pretty
soon I began to go crazy. When
you're alone as I was alone, a
house is an awful place. You go
around the room. Those are her
sewing things-that's the chair
she used to sit in and sew. All
kinds of things begin to go
through your head, Ernst"
Il can we'll believe it, Adolf ="
And then at last you clear
out and get tight and do some
thing silly"
I nod. The clock is ticking.
The stove crackles. His wife
comes in quietly, puts bread
and butter on the table and
goes away again. Bethke
Smooths his hand over the
tablecloth.
"Yes, Ernst. And that's how
it was here for her too. She
had to sit about here just like
that, all those years. She
would sit there, in fear and
uncertainty, she brooded and
listened-then at last it came.
She didn't know how to help
herself any more, and so one
thing led to another"
His wife enters, bringing cof-
fee. I would like to say good
day to her, but she does not
look at me.
Wont you bring a cup for
yourself, too?" asks Adolf.
There is something I must
do in the Kitchen" she says.
She has a soft, deep voice.
Il sat here" resumes Adolf,
land said to myself, Well,
you've fired her out. You've
vindicated your honor Then
I would think: And what COM
fort does your honor bring you?
You know it's only a tag. You're
alone, and honor or no honor,
it doesn't make that any better
So I told her she could come
back. What the devil does it
all matter, anyway? A man is
tired and will only live a few
years. If he'd never known.
things would have gone on as
before. And who can say what
would happen if one always
knew everything?"
Adolf plays nervously with his
fingers on the arm of his chair.
Have some coffee. Ernst; and
there's butter. too"
I fill the cups and We drink.
Easier for Him
You see, Ernst" he says
gently. cts so much easier for
you. You've your books and
your education and all the rest
of it. But II have nothing
else. only my wife"
I say nothing to that; could
not explain it to him. He is no
longer the man he was at the
Front-nor am I.
And what does she say about
it?" I ask after a pause.
Adolf lets his hands drop.
"She says very little, and one
can't get much out of her,
either; just sits there and looks
at you. At most she only cries.
She hardly ever speaks"
I think over it a while. What
else should one ask?
And are things any better
with you now, Adolf?"
He looks at me. Not much,
Ernst; but then, that's not to
be wondered at-not as yet.
That will all come in time, don't
you think so, too?"
He doesn't look as if he quite
believes it himself.
Sure it'll all come right
again some day." I say, and put
few more cigars on the table.
We continue to talk a while,
then I &C. In the passage
encounter his wife, who makes
to pass by me hastily. Good
bye, Frau Bethke," say, offer.
ing to shake hands. Good.
bye" she answers, turning her
face away as she gives me her
hand.
Adolf comes with me to the
station. The wind is buster
ing. I steal sidelong glances
al him as we walk and rennef1n.