Year: 1870

at church. In the night he bade his ia.
ther goodbye, and his last words were:
Father, when you sing the psalm to-mor-
row in church, think kindly of me-


In the night the old man, who was now
alone, got up several times it seemed to
him that he heard his son moving about in
the sitting-room, but no one was there.
He had certainly forgotten something,
thought the old man, and now his spirit
is coming to find it and take it away.
The old man is not free from superstition.
and it would certainly be no kindness to
convert him. On the window sill, where
rosemary and pinks were blooming,
bunch of which the wanderer had stuck in
his hat, lay the old mans hymn-book.
wrapped up as his wife had always kept
it, in a piece of white cotton; on this
cotton the moonlight shining down from
the mountains, played SO strangely and
the old man laid his hand on it, rs if it
gave him something to grasp. At last he
went back to bed.


In the morning, when the bells were
ringing, the old man went to church with
his hymn-book under his arm he did not
take it out of its cover till he was in church,
then looked at the number of the psalm
which was hung up, and begun to turn
over the leaves slowly with his moistened
finger But suddenly he cried out, so that
every one in church started, and his ex
clamation sounded above the prelude on
the organ: Henry, what have you done ?"
There lay the hundred thaler note OF the
wanderer, and it was his whole property
there it lay between the leaves. 'Henry
put it there, and that's the reason that he
said yesterday: Father when you sing the
psalm tomorrow. think kindly of me-"
The old man could not join in the first
verse, but with the second began as if he
had the voice of his youth again.
As they came out of church, all were
talking of the goodness and faithfulness of
the wanderer to his father. The old man
said not word he only pressed the hymn
book so firmly under his arm that it hurt
him, but this he scarcely noticed. II
hayn't touched it, and it still lies in the
same place where he put it." So said the
old man. and had to go TO the village
with him and into his little house. There
lay the hymn book on the window sill,
wrapped in white cotton cloth. The old
man took the book out. and to be sure,
at the psalm numbered 1874, lay the hun
dred thaler note.


"Why havnt you put it out at INTEREST,""
asked


The old man laughed. and replied at
last, That's what all the people say.
everybody, ones Just as wise as another,
they only think OF one thing. But | will
not"


"You have the best interest from the
money, you feed yourself on the good
thought that your son is so excellent"
answered.


"There, there cried the old man, ''you
are the first person who has understood it.
You must certainly have enjoyed much
kindness from people because you under
stood so well. You are not stupid, saw
that directly"


The old man was quite happy to find
man as shrewd as himself. And when l
asked him why he left the book lying there
so openly, whether he was not afraid that
some one might break pane of glass and
steal it, as might easily be done, he an
swered smiling-and the smile lighted his
withered face wonderfully:


mo one would do that. The people
here about know what is in it, and any of
them would rather cut off his hand than
steal the book But do you mean those
who don't know People don't steal hymn
books, this guards it better than bolts and
bars"


The old man went back with me part
of the way to the place where l had first
met him. Then we bade each other a
friendly good bye.


When was in the Harz mountains again
last year, did not find the old man in his
place-he lay under the sod But his
hymn n-book, with the money. is in the pas
tors keeping and in public advertisement
the son is summoned to receive it, other
wise both will fall to the nearest relations.