Pv
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 
 X v\ 
 
 rrv_*^.
 
 A Battle and A Boy 
 
 BY 
 
 BLANCHE WILLIS 'HOWARD 
 
 AUTHOR OF " 
 "TONY THE MAID," "THE HUMMING TOP," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 STREET & SMITH 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 1891 and 1901, 
 By STREET & SMITH
 
 PS 
 Jo 
 
 TU 
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 THE cattle-market occupied the town common. 
 The child-market was round the corner in the Bach 
 Strasse. Burly peasants in long coats, red waist- 
 coats, and high boots, tramped with a weighty air 
 from one to the other, and it would be difficult to 
 say which was the noisier where the children's 
 shrill tones were continually raised in eager bar- 
 gaining, or where the poor beasts, unable to make 
 terms for themselves, yet lifted up their voices in 
 loud but futile protest against such indignities as 
 thumps in the ribs, having their jaws stretched 
 to the verge of dislocation, and their legs pulled 
 about in attitudes at variance with the laws of their 
 anatomy. 
 
 Down the very middle of the long, rambling 
 street, a mere thread of a brook came rushing and
 
 6 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 leaping impetuously, trying to overflow its rough 
 board barriers. It was strong, and swollen with 
 spring rains and the melting of ice and snow in 
 the mountains, and made as much noise as if it 
 thought itself a river. Franzl Eeiner, kneeling by 
 the swift water, sailed chip-boats some with masts 
 and some without as diligently as if he had come 
 to the Ravensburg child-market for this sole pur- 
 pose, and as if his future bread and butter would 
 depend exclusively upon his skill in this branch 
 of industry. His back turned to the crowd, he 
 watched his boats bob and whirl, capsize, disap- 
 pear, or go gayly on past the people, and tall high- 
 gabled houses, with upper stories projecting each 
 over each, and sail out of sight ; but he was proud- 
 ly conscious they must in time reach the great 
 watch-tower, through whose antique, arched por- 
 tals the street ran away from the town and out 
 among the fields. In all his eleven years he had 
 never seen so many men and women together, so 
 many cattle, and heard so many voices as that day 
 at Eavensburg. At first he had been bewildered 
 by the uproar and strangeness. The animals in- 
 deed looked familiar and homelike, and diffused a 
 warm, barn-yard smell which he found comforting. 
 He felt strongly inclined to remain near an affable
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 7 
 
 cow that manifested a certain placid pleasure in his 
 society. But the people and children were push- 
 ing on to the Bach Strasse, in front of the Golden 
 Lamb Inn, and a horse-dealer had sent him along 
 with a slap on the shoulder and a rough 
 
 " Colts sold here, good-for-nothing boys down 
 there ! " 
 
 The children formed in a compact little army 
 until their ranks were broken by people pressing 
 in with sharp questions and scrutiny. Franzl 
 stood for a while on the outskirts of the crowd, un- 
 certain of his course. Feeling shy, he looked sul- 
 len and defiant, and scowled at everyone whose 
 glance he met, not in the least from ill-will, but 
 rather from a vague instinct of self-defence. Nudg- 
 ing with a prompt elbow every mortal who by 
 chance, or with intention, nudged him, returning 
 with liberal measure all the amenities of childhood, 
 and the methods by which the unregenerate small 
 boy makes the acquaintance of his peer grimaces, 
 motiveless blows, inconsequent efforts to trip up 
 and knock down he listened a while to the others, 
 and heard the old hands among the children glibly 
 boasting what they could do, and where they had 
 been, how they had kept cows and sheep on the 
 hill-slopes, how they could scour and run and dig.
 
 8 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Buy me ! Buy me ! " they cried, shrilly. But 
 it was all rather confusing, and as nobody hap- 
 pened to inquire what his special accomplish- 
 ments were, or seemed to desire his services, he 
 gradually withdrew from the greed and turmoil of 
 the market-place, and finally forgot it, devoting 
 his energies to the navigation of chips, for it was 
 really a splendid brook. 
 
 Meanwhile if Franzl was oblivious of his duty 
 to secure a good situation, to " sell " himself, as 
 they say in Ravensburg for the child-market has 
 its queer idioms as well as Wall Street the din 
 behind the careless little mountaineer proved that 
 others were less indifferent to their worldly advan- 
 tage. The swarm of boys and girls was of all ages 
 and sizes, and though some were pale and sickly, 
 for the most part they looked as rosy and clear-eyed 
 as if the Pied Piper himself had led them, dancing 
 to the tunes of his magic pipe, over the hills and 
 far away from their mountain homes in Switz- 
 erland and the Tyrol. The truth is they had 
 been regaled by nothing so merry and melodious. 
 They had patiently trudged many a weary mile to 
 the Eavensburg spring-fair. Those of them who 
 had had the occasional privilege of dangling their 
 heels from the back of some jolting cart had
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 9 
 
 deemed themselves lucky. They had been glad 
 of every crust of coarse bread given them on the 
 way, had regarded a few cold potatoes as a feast, 
 and a swallow of bitter beer as a rare boon. 
 
 Timid little girls of eight or nine were making 
 their first ventures in the great world a somewhat 
 immature age, it must be confessed, for gaining an 
 independent livelihood and establishing one's self 
 permanently. But nothing makes an experienced 
 maid-of-all-work of a baby of nine quicker than 
 seven or eight younger brothers and sisters, and 
 it is astonishing how motherly and painstaking 
 even a boy becomes, when necessity compels from 
 him unceasing domestic ministrations. Where 
 mouths are many and pence are few, the senior 
 infant acquires a goodly amount of routine, and 
 when Number Two becomes nearly as expert, 
 Number One is sent to trade her experience and 
 accomplishments at the child-market. Here the 
 smallest human mite is in demand, for perhaps 
 some childless woman inspired by practical, not 
 sentimental, motives has come to hire a little girl, 
 or some hardworking young mother wants a child 
 to tend the baby while she looks after the farm, 
 her husband, and the men. 
 
 Large, bold boys and girls of fourteen or fif-
 
 10 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 teen who had been there before knew how to 
 bandy rough jokes to amuse the bystanders, and 
 in the matter of a sharp bargain were a match for 
 the wiliest old peasant of them all. A sad-eyed 
 mother held her boy's hand clasped close, lis- 
 tened to the boisterous talk, scanned every peas- 
 ant's face, anxiously seeking a kind master, and 
 asked herself, after her three days' pilgrimage, 
 whether by dint of still harder work, sewing still 
 later at night, she could not manage things better, 
 pay off the debts faster, and keep the boy at 
 home, at least till next year, when he would be 
 stronger and older. A keen-faced big boy stood 
 with his arm thrown round his little brother, mak- 
 ing brilliant terms for both, but the timid little 
 fellow invariably hesitated to ratify the bargain. 
 If a boy was quick to seize an advantage and 
 ready with his tongue, the children were glad to 
 avail themselves of his oratorical talent, and he 
 frequently had a large clientele. For the boys 
 and girls, while sometimes coming in little herds 
 with a man in charge, like sheep with a shepherd, 
 were often alone and rarely accompanied by their 
 parents. People so poor that they are forced to 
 send young children on such an errand have ob- 
 viously little time or money to spend on journeys.
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 11 
 
 There were, therefore, few partings at the child- 
 market. The little ones had shed their tears, or 
 gulped them down according to their size and 
 sex at home. They had left behind all that they 
 knew and loved, and being poor, hard-working little 
 souls, had come to cast their lot among strangers, 
 to find somebody who had need of their young 
 strength, who wanted an extra pair of willing feet, 
 a cowherd, a shepherd, a goatherd, a goose girl 
 or help in rough work in cottage or field. But 
 whatever was the especial purpose for which they 
 sold themselves, it was for the hardest possible 
 work and the smallest possible pay. As they had 
 never seen people who did not have to work, 
 and scarcely knew such phenomena existed in this 
 busy world, the prospect was in no respect dis- 
 heartening, but merely what they expected as a 
 matter of course. They cared little for rough 
 words, and even a blow now and then was not 
 sufficient to destroy all amicable relations with the 
 owner of the fist. The most rose-colored hope 
 which each child privately entertained was that 
 he should get more to eat in his new quarters than 
 he had ever had at home. 
 
 Peasants from all the fertile shores of the Lake 
 of Constance, from Bavaria, Wiirtemberg, Baden,
 
 12 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 Austria, and Switzerland, strode about, each speak- 
 ing the dialect of his region, many wearing the old 
 costumes, which, although going rapidly out of 
 date, are still worn on Sunday and special occasions. 
 They came to buy, to sell, to see acquaintances, 
 and what was going on. Some sought a good 
 horse, some a cow, others a sturdy boy or girl. It 
 was easy to detect a rich farmer, for he was apt to 
 take himself and life with becoming gravity. 
 There was always a dense crowd by the horses, 
 another round the children, and everywhere was 
 a continual commotion, a neighing, a lowing, a 
 bleating scolding, quarrelling, and laughter 
 tramping in and out of the inns, where every bar- 
 gain was concluded by a mug of beer ; above all, 
 the shrill treble of the children, " Buy me ! Buy 
 me!" 
 
 Franzl knew that the brook was born in the 
 mountains as much as he himself. Only a moun- 
 tain brook could spin along like that. Theirs 
 on the hill behind the cottage went faster still, 
 and clearer, and foamy over the rocks. Yet 
 for a mountain brook that had somehow got 
 caught between boards in the middle of a town 
 street, this was a fine fellow, travelling on 
 quite unconcerned, with a brave and merry spirit
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 13 
 
 of its own. All of which Franzl felt in a vague, 
 general way, and with a sense of approval and 
 companionship. He shaped his masts carefully, 
 and was no more anxious about his future than a 
 frisky colt round the corner. 
 
 A red-haired boy strolled near and watched 
 him. Franzl scowled and rose. The other boy 
 was not dressed precisely like the boys of Franzl's 
 native valley and was a stranger reasons enough, 
 as all the world knows, for mistrusting and dislik- 
 ing a person at first sight. A mast would not 
 stand. The boy at Franzl's elbow snickered, 
 whereupon he punched the tempting red head to 
 get it out of the way, and the owner returned the 
 blow with the quickness of thought. After which 
 silent interchange of courtesies, that made them 
 feel better acquainted and more friendly, Franzl 
 continued to make boats and the other to watch 
 with benevolent interest. 
 
 "Pauli, Pauli," called a woman, coming rapidly 
 toward them. She wore a red plaid shawl drawn 
 over her head and pinned under her chin, and in 
 addition a man's hat ; but small eccentricities of 
 toilette were too frequent to be conspicuous at the 
 Kavensburg market. The children glanced up as 
 she approached.
 
 14 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 " How can you be idling there, Pauli, when you 
 haven't sold yourself yet? There's a fat Allgauer 
 dairyman who wants to look at you. Josef is al- 
 ready in the Lamb with his Baden peasant. Ach, 
 it is far from us Baden ! And little Vroni the 
 woman says she'll be easy with her, but dear, dear, 
 who knows? I don't fear for you, Pauli. You are 
 slow and steady like me, and willing to keep at 
 your work whether things are rough or smooth. 
 But Josef takes after your father, being sometimes 
 sulky-tempered. If they drive him, he won't work 
 well, while if they'll coax a bit, he'll slave his fin- 
 gers to the bone for them, but how will they know 
 that, the strangers? And my little Vroni, that's 
 the worst ! Twenty marks is all they'll give but 
 if they are easy with the child well, well ! Come, 
 Pauli ! " 
 
 Franzl dropped his boat and looked gravely after 
 them. He was rather sorry to have Pauli go. 
 
 The woman was very poor, and had not yet sold 
 her Pauli. Why should she bother about other 
 folks' boys, she thought. But her good heart 
 made her turn again, and say : 
 
 " Are you sold ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Do you want a place ? "
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 15 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Are you here alone ? Nobody to look after 
 you?" 
 
 " I'm taking caro of myself," said Franzl, with 
 dignity. 
 
 " I should think you were ! All Saints give us 
 patience ! " she exclaimed. " These boys ! There 
 you stand and cut chips like a duke, while the 
 best places are taken behind your back. What 
 will your poor mother say to that ? " 
 
 Franzl did not reply. He dug his heel hard 
 into the ground, swallowed a big choking lump 
 that he now and then felt in his throat, and 
 tried to squeeze away a hot sensation behind his 
 eyes. 
 
 Pauli's mother cast an anxious glance at the 
 crowd, caught the eye of her fat dairyman, pointed 
 at Pauli, gesticulated frantically, giving her patron 
 to understand that she was coming in a moment, 
 was somewhat, but not wholly, reassured by his 
 nod, then turned with impatience to the senseless 
 child taking her time and a^ention at so critical a 
 moment. 
 
 " Where's your mother? " she demanded, harshly. 
 
 "Dead," muttered Franzl, his voice queer on 
 account of the lump.
 
 16 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Where's your father ? " she asked, gently. 
 
 " Dead." 
 
 " What ? Both of them ? Oh ! oh ! " 
 
 " He died first. He was hunting chamois with 
 the strangers. He never came back. Nobody ever 
 found him. He's down a cliff somewhere." 
 
 "Well, well that is bad luck! This is a 
 world ! And your mother ? " 
 
 " She was always missing him. Then she got 
 worse. Then she died," said the child, unsteadily, 
 digging his heel deeper into the earth. 
 
 "Lately?" 
 
 "Last week." 
 
 " And you've no family at all ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have, too. I've got some family," he 
 returned, with a flash of resentment and a surpris- 
 ing change of demeanor ; but he did not communi- 
 cate the fact that his entire family consisted of a 
 queer little flannel bundle, with a face that puckered 
 and ten pink toes. 
 
 "Well, well," she returned, with a benevolent, 
 but somewhat vague, attempt at consolation, " it 
 will be all right sometime," though what was going 
 to be right she did not intimate, "and I'm glad 
 you've got a family, after all." 
 
 " I have," Franzl declared, stoutly, and smiled for
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 17 
 
 the first time, a bright warm smile, which Pauli's 
 mother liked. 
 
 " You come along with me," she said, briskly. 
 " Your poor mother never wanted you to be daw- 
 dling here, and I am sure if I was dead I'd be 
 much obliged to anybody who would look sharp 
 after my Pauli when he needed it." 
 
 Without more ado she grasped his hand and 
 moved toward the market, a boy on either side. 
 Franzl went willingly enough, cheered by her pro- 
 tection and control. 
 
 " Now, Pauli, there's your fat dairyman. Run 
 along and tell him what you did last year, and that 
 you'll suit him. Speak up ! Don't be bashful. 
 I'll be there as soon as I find little Vroni. She'll 
 be lonesome without me. But there, how like an 
 old fool I talk ! She'll have to get used to being 
 lonesome. And twenty marks isn't much. Holy 
 Saint Josef, this is a world ! Here I am selling 
 three children, and a strange boy, too, without any 
 father or mother. What's your name ? " 
 
 "Franzl Reiner." 
 
 " Now, Franzl, you be a good boy and sell your- 
 self as fast as ever you can. I'll be along as soon 
 as I find Vroni. In a crowd like this you could 
 lose your own soul and never know it. And I
 
 18 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 must speak a word to Josef. He's a good child, 
 but sometimes he's sulky. He takes after his 
 father. Franzl, in the first place, listen a bit. If 
 you had listened instead of playing you would have 
 sold yourself long ago, for you are a fine, strong 
 boy, Franzl. Hear what the others say. Good 
 Lord, some of those children would sell themselves 
 to the Kaiser before he knew it, and talk him stone 
 deaf, to boot. Their tongues go like mill-wheels." 
 
 Franzl, although not critical, thought that her 
 own tongue was not stiff. 
 
 She had elbowed their way well into the noisy 
 throng. 
 
 " Now you stand here in the middle, and listen 
 with all your ears, and find out what's going on 
 and look as big as you can, and if anybody wants 
 to buy, you talk away as bold as a lion but don't 
 promise anything till I come back. I'll be along 
 as soon as I've looked after Pauli and Josef and 
 Vroni." 
 
 On she went with her intrepid elbows, and 
 presently he lost sight of the red shawl pyramid, 
 crowned by the man's hat. 
 
 Thus admonished, instructed, and initiated by 
 his new friend, transplanted from the byways of 
 sloth to this great centre of speculation and busi-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 19 
 
 ness, Franzl, who was by no means dull or lazy, 
 felt excited and interested, eager to begin opera- 
 tions, and determined to do well for himself. The 
 touch of human sympathy had melted his defiance 
 and loneliness. No longer scowling and suspicious, 
 he stood alert and sunny, calling, " Buy me ! Buy 
 me ! " with his fresh young voice, and awaiting his 
 fate.
 
 FBANZL'S fate presently stalked up to him in the 
 shape of a Suabian peasant, who scrutinized him 
 as narrowly as if he were a horse. The solemn 
 ruminating gaze wandered slowly over his small 
 person, and inspected his loose waistcoat, broad 
 leathern belt, short, tight trousers, the stockings, 
 that began too late and ended too soon for they 
 did not approach the bare, brown knees or the 
 ankles the heavy shoes, with nails in the soles, 
 the curly brown hair, and the pretty, green, pointed 
 Tyrolean hat, beneath which the spirited face looked 
 up curiously. His clothes were old, faded, patched, 
 and shabby ; but they were the Sunday suit his 
 mother had made for him long ago, and constituted 
 his entire wardrobe. Some of the children laid on 
 the ground before them small bundles containing 
 all their worldly possessions. Franzl's march had 
 been impeded by no such weight. 
 
 " Tyrolean hm ? " said the man. 
 
 The portentous " hm " puzzled Franzl. It
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 21 
 
 sounded disparaging, and lie did not yet know 
 enough of trade to understand that stupid people 
 think it sharp to underrate the value of the wares 
 they wish to buy. 
 
 " From the Yenter Thai," he replied. 
 
 " Hm hm " repeated the peasant. 
 
 "It's a splendid valley," Franzl returned, 
 haughtily, offended that anybody should " hm " at 
 his home ; " it's got snow mountains, high ones, 
 the highest in the world and rocks, big ones, the 
 biggest in the world and chamois, more chamois 
 than there are anywhere else in the world." 
 
 The man, as taciturn as Pauli's mother was lo- 
 quacious, stared, but otherwise paid no attention 
 to these boasts. Puffing slowly at a long, brown, 
 curving pipe, he measured the boy from head to 
 foot. 
 
 " Ever been out to work ? " he finally asked. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " What can you do ? " 
 
 " Anything any other fellow of my size can, I 
 suppose." 
 
 The peasant pinched the child's arm, gave his 
 shapely legs a few investigating slaps, looked well 
 at the multitude of youngsters to satisfy himself 
 anew that there was no healthier boy on the
 
 22 A BATTLE AJND A DOT. 
 
 ground, and again uttered bis enigmatic "hm." 
 Franzl did not mind it now. He concluded it was 
 part of the business. 
 
 " Can you engage for a year ? " 
 
 Poor homeless Franzl might have replied that 
 he could engage himself for a dozen years, since 
 there was nobody to miss him, but he merely 
 said : 
 
 " Don't mind." 
 
 " Family ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Franzl, cheerfully, " I've got some.-" 
 
 "Hm, they'll let you alone will they? They 
 won't be coming after you ? " 
 
 " No danger," returned the boy, reflecting that it 
 would be long indeed before those ten pink toes 
 would be coming after him. 
 
 A circle had formed round them, for the peasant 
 was known as a man of means and importance, and 
 a good judge of cattle. He had inspected several 
 boys that morning without finding an article to his 
 taste. He was so slow he gave one the impression 
 that he expected to live a thousand years at least, 
 and was paid by the hour for deliberating. While 
 he stared and pondered, Franzl counted the silver 
 buttons which in long dazzling rows adorned the 
 farmer's portly person.
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 23 
 
 " I'll give you thirty marks," he proposed. 
 
 Franzl felt disappointed and mortified. Why, 
 the woman's little Vroni would earn twenty a girl 
 and he a big boy of eleven, as big and strong as 
 some fellows of thirteen. Confused and depressed, 
 he looked at the bystanders, who, however, showed 
 no surprise at this unflattering estimate of his 
 powers, and indifferently waited for his answer. 
 
 Suddenly, a little distance behind the peasant, 
 Pauli's red head and friendly freckled countenance 
 bobbed into view, and nodded infinite encourage- 
 ment. With frantic gestures, grins, and disre- 
 spectful grimaces at the peasant's broad back, 
 Pauli swung his arms like windmills, and silently 
 cheered Franzl on to victory. 
 
 The pantomime might have been unintelligible 
 to the wise and prudent, but it was not to Franzl, 
 to whom it said : " Go on, old fellow ! You're all 
 right. He's a fraud. We'll manage him." 
 
 Support and sympathy from an old and intimate 
 friend for so Pauli seemed at this crisis did 
 Franzl's heart good and set his wits working. 
 
 " Why, they always begin low down," he re- 
 membered. "That's what I've been hearing all 
 the morning. What a fool I was to forget ! " 
 
 It struck him that it would take less time and
 
 24 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 trouble if people would say at once how much they 
 would pay, instead of beating about the bush so 
 long. He did not quite know what he was worth 
 a nice question, indeed, for anyone at any time to 
 decide for himself ; more than Vroni he was sure, 
 but less than Pauli, who, having been bound out 
 before, belonged to the aristocrats of the market 
 and could put on airs toward novices. Franzl 
 was on the point of declaring he would not take a 
 penny less than fifty marks, when he saw Pauli 
 hold up eight fingers, and make hideous contor- 
 tions with his mouth. 
 
 Franzl understood and was much excited. 
 
 " He means eighty marks. But that's what the 
 very biggest fellows have." Bits of talk and hag- 
 gling which he had heard with indifference now 
 recurred to him. " Oh, yes, he must come up and 
 I must come down. It's a kind of hide-and-seek. 
 He hides, then I hide." 
 
 A merry-looking girl of fifteen or sixteen had 
 joined Pauli, also another boy. All three tele- 
 graphed by private wire to Franzl that he must say 
 " eighty," and eighty he said, boldly ; but he felt 
 queer, somewhat as he had once felt when he was a 
 very little boy and his father had told him to jump 
 from a rock into a green, deep lake. He thought
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 25 
 
 it was plain enough how he would get into the 
 water, but how it would be down there, and how 
 he would ever come up again that was what he 
 didn't grasp. This, too, was a leap into the un- 
 known ; still he said " eighty," in response to his 
 privy counsellors. 
 
 " Thirty-five," the peasant offered, stolidly. 
 
 "Here we come," Franzl thought, "one toward 
 the other, like two donkeys crossing a bridge." 
 But he was in good spirits now, and roused to do 
 his best. 
 
 With his hands behind him, and making himself 
 as tall and manly as possible to increase his market 
 value, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Thirty-five marks for a big boy like me ! You 
 must be joking. You mean seventy-five." 
 
 The council of three grinned approval. Pauli 
 waved his windmill arms. 
 
 Observing Franzl's bright face looking often in 
 one direction, the peasant turned to discover the 
 attraction ; but as his rotund figure revolved slowly 
 upon its axis, he saw nothing but people moving 
 about, intent on their own affairs, and three most 
 innocent figures, with heads thrown back and eyes 
 fixed upon the ancient tower, like connoisseurs 
 lost in contemplation of its architectural charms.
 
 26 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 
 
 "Forty," he said, "and it's more than you are 
 worth. Forty marks is a good deal of money 
 nowadays," he remarked solemnly, and looked at 
 the bystanders. His assertion met with sympa- 
 thy. 
 
 "That's true," somebody responded. "Forty 
 marks is a good deal of money. It doesn't grow 
 on every bush." 
 
 " Say seventy, and I'll begin to listen," returned 
 Franzl ; but it was difficult for him to command 
 his lordly tone, for forty marks seemed a fortune 
 to him. 
 
 " Forty," reiterated the peasant. " Forty is my 
 price." 
 
 Franzl hesitated. Over the private wire again 
 came sound advice from experienced heads : 
 
 " Say sixty, then come down to fifty, and hang 
 on for your life." 
 
 Franzl obeyed the instructions conveyed by the 
 animated, expressive, and trustworthy " code." 
 
 " Sixty," he called, boldly. 
 
 The peasant puffed some time, regarding Franzl's 
 lithe, strong legs. It was those legs he wished to 
 employ. They were the best ones on the market 
 that day. Since they could run they had been 
 trained in the mountains to climb and spring,
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 27 
 
 sure-footed as a goat, while above them were an 
 unusually deep, broad chest for a growing boy, 
 and perfect lungs. 
 
 " He is worth a hundred marks and more to 
 me," reflected the peasant ; " I'll give him fifty ; " 
 for he would not have enjoyed a golden crown in 
 paradise unless he could feel that he had bought 
 it for half price. 
 
 Meanwhile the allied juvenile forces and the 
 enemy had arrived at the same conclusion. 
 They were all determined upon fifty marks 
 the three children, because they had their spe- 
 cial tariff, and fifty marks was the highest price 
 which a new boy under fourteen could obtain ; 
 Franzl, because they had inspired him with con- 
 fidence, and it is always pleasant to have one's 
 value set at a high figure; the peasant, because 
 such a boy was dirt-cheap on such terms. Never- 
 theless the peasant proposed forty-two, and Franzl 
 came down slowly to fifty-eight, and there they re- 
 mained balancing some time before they would 
 deign to make further concessions. Finally, after 
 a great deal of unnecessary shilly-shallying, they 
 arrived, by reluctant degrees at fifty, which made 
 all parties secretly triumphant, particularly the 
 conspiracy of labor against capital.
 
 28 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 Franzl, who felt far richer than a Rothschild, still 
 thought it, all in all, a silly performance, for he was 
 only an ignorant little mountaineer, and hadn't a 
 suspicion that this sort of thing was not peculiar 
 to the Ravensburg market, but that roundabout 
 ways were in high favor all over the world, and 
 that statesmen, diplomates, lawyers, doctors, all 
 sorts of wise old graybeards, frequently scorn to 
 accomplish their objects with simplicity and direct- 
 ness, when they can possibly spin out preliminaries 
 and waste time in not saying what they mean. 
 
 If Franzl had been uncertain as to the delicate 
 matter of self-valuation, he was quite at his ease 
 with respect of certain practical privileges which 
 it was now his task to secure from his new master, 
 and scarcely needed Pauli's lively suggestions from 
 the background. 
 
 " You'll give me two suits of clothes " what he 
 really said was double clothes " a Sunday suit and 
 a workday one ? " 
 
 The peasant demurred and wrapped himself in 
 smoke and silence to ostensibly consider the ques- 
 tion, but this again was merely his idea of manners 
 and dignity, for every child, according to old cus- 
 tom which nobody ever thought of evading, could 
 claim two suits.
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 29 
 
 " Yes, two," lie agreed, at length. 
 " Whole suits," persisted Franzl ; " jacket and 
 trousers and waistcoat ? " 
 
 After another season of profound meditation the 
 
 "Whole suits." 
 
 " And two pairs of shoes ? " 
 
 The peasant puffed a while, stolid, inscrutable, 
 and as important as if the fate of the Triple Alli- 
 ance depended upon his answer. 
 
 " Two pairs of shoes," he repeated. 
 
 " Shoes made out of shoe-leather ? " Franzl stip- 
 ulated, gravely. 
 
 The peasant nodded assent, and the bystanders 
 laughed, but Franzl was quite serious. He had seen 
 shoes made of wood, of felt, of carpet, even of an old 
 coat, and he intended his should be out-and-out 
 shoe-leather shoes, and no mean woolly imitations. 
 
 " And school in the winter, Franzl three 
 months' school," prompted Pauli's mother, who had 
 listened to the closing conditions. Neither party 
 to the sale was as grateful as he ought to have been 
 for this judicious suggestion ; the farmer because 
 he did not want to lose so much of the boy's time, 
 and Franzl for reasons which need not be dwelt 
 upon, since they are evident to every eleven-year-
 
 30 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 old boy, unless he be a little John Stuart Mill, who 
 at the age of three preferred Greek to taffy. 
 
 Fianzl did not look elated, and something in his 
 eyes expressed the wicked intention of shirking 
 school if he could ; but Pauli's mothei came for- 
 ward valiantly, leading little Vroni. 
 
 " Now you must let him go to school, you know. 
 Boys must have their schooling. My Pauli and 
 my Josef will have their three months' school. 
 Speak up Franzl, and say you want to go to school. 
 Fifty marks is good, and the clothes and shoes, 
 and everything is all right except the school. I've 
 walked three days from beyond Bregenz," she con- 
 fided to the peasant's immovable countenance, " and 
 I've sold three children this morning, and I ought 
 to start for home again, for my man's got a broken 
 leg broken in two places. I suppose he couldn't 
 help breaking it just at this busy time, with the 
 spring coming on, but it does seem as if men 
 made all the trouble they could. I've got five chil- 
 dren younger than Vroni here. This is a world ! 
 That's why I have to sell some of them. I don't 
 fear for Pauli. He's steady as a mill, like me. 
 But Josef takes after his father, being a bit sulky 
 in the temper, and strangers won't know how to 
 humor him ; and little Vroni well, well, they say
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 31 
 
 they'll be easy with the child it's only twenty 
 marks she gets ! If you have eight children, you 
 know, and a man with a broken leg broken in 
 two places spring's an inconvenient season for 
 broken legs. Well, well ! But it's as much of a 
 pull letting them go off among strangers as if you 
 had only one. Nobody knows what they will find 
 off there. It's as bad as getting married which 
 is mostly pretty uncertain. I ought to be off. It's 
 no use waiting, now they are all sold. You will let 
 Franzl go to school, won't you ? It's his right, you 
 know." 
 
 She might as well have addressed herself to the 
 town-pump so far as sympathy and response were 
 concerned. But happily all that she required was 
 a listener. The sympathy and response she her- 
 self could provide. Undaunted by the peasant's 
 apathy, she went on energetically : 
 
 " I'm looking a bit after Franzl. I told him I'd 
 see that things were all right. He's got a family, 
 but they couldn't come with him. They want him 
 to go to school. It isn't respectable not to get 
 an education when you're young and not good 
 for much else. Speak up, Franzl. Say you want 
 three months' school. Tell him your mother 
 wouldn't want you to miss your schooling."
 
 32 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 Franzl flushed, and without more delay mut- 
 tered, ungraciously : 
 
 "Well school then," and the peasant grudg- 
 ingly agreed. 
 
 The bargain was now completed. Franzl Reiner 
 was bought and sold, and duly registered. He 
 submitted his papers, which the peasant examined 
 with his phenomenal slowness, then fished from 
 the depths of a leather purse, as long as a stocking, 
 a five-mark piece, which he gave the boy in proof 
 of good faith. It was a large, heavy coin. Franzl 
 longed to examine it, but the older boys were 
 watching him, and pride led him to drop it care- 
 lessly into his pocket. 
 
 Little Vroni, however, was more guileless, and 
 worked to unclasp her mother's fingers, which 
 held a similar but smaller coin. 
 
 " There, little one," she murmured in her lov- 
 ing and pretty dialect ; " thou seest it, my child. 
 It is thine. Mother will put it away that it may 
 not be lost. And here is thy woman coming for 
 thee. It is time to go. Be good, Vroni. Mother 
 will come for thee some day. Eun along, child." 
 
 She gave the little girl a slap on the shoulder, 
 did not kiss her peasants have not much time to 
 kiss their children did not shed a tear as Vroni,
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 33 
 
 somewhat dazed by her vast experiences that day, 
 and led by the strange woman, walked out of the 
 crowd and turned the corner of the street without 
 once looking back. The mother watched, dry-eyed, 
 until the small figure was out of sight, then dropped 
 upon a bench in front of the Lamb, flung her apron 
 over her face, buried her head in her hands, rocked 
 to and fro, and sobbed and mourned for her chil- 
 dren. But tears were a luxury which she could 
 not afford long at a time. 
 
 " Lord ! this is a world ! " she muttered. 
 
 As she looked up with her wet red eyes, Pauli 
 stood near troubled and awkward and Franzl 
 hesitated at the door of the inn. 
 
 "Oh, you boys," she exclaimed, with a strange 
 outbreak of irritation, " mind that you behave 
 yourselves, mind that you are steady and decent, 
 and grow into something worth having. Men-folks 
 do an awful lot of harm and women-folks have the 
 worst of it mostly. But there what do you 
 know about it ? Off with you, Pauli ! Josef's gone 
 Vroni's gone." She stood, smoothed her apron, 
 rubbed the back of her hand roughly across her 
 eyes, and prepared to start on her homeward 
 journey. "Behave yourself, Franzl. Good-by, 
 Pauli. There is nothing more for me to do
 
 34 A BATTLE AND A BO 7. 
 
 here, and there's enough work waiting somewhere 
 else." 
 
 She turned from him, suddenly looked back, a 
 world of tenderness in her rugged face : 
 
 " You've been a good, steady boy, Pauli. You 
 have always worked better than any other boy." 
 
 She strode away with the step of a man, and the 
 queer man's hat on her head in her heart, heavy 
 sorrow the kind, womanly, pitiful heart that, in 
 spite of its own burdens, could care for the inter- 
 ests of a lonely little boy by the wayside. 
 
 In the Lamb, packed close together on benches 
 at long, bare tables, sat the peasants and the chil- 
 dren who had sold themselves. It was their in- 
 alienable right to eat heartily of soup and meat, 
 with beer, as the final ceremony of the market, and 
 the one which they regarded as entirely satisfac- 
 tory. 
 
 Neither Pauli nor Franzl had had a morsel that 
 day, and when they found themselves and their 
 respective proprietors sitting before bowls of 
 steaming hot soup, they fell to in silence and with 
 ravenous appetites. The din of voices, the air 
 dense with the smoke of a score of strong pipes 
 and beer fumes could not destroy their zest. 
 Pauli loved his mother honestly, and choked and
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 35 
 
 felt queer when she left him ; but he was only thir- 
 teen. He could not comprehend her grief or her 
 love ; he had never before in all his life had so 
 much soup at once, and this felicity absorbed his 
 being. 
 
 When, after a while, the two men moved to a 
 table where great cattle-potentates were discuss- 
 ing prices and pounding with their fists, Pauli re- 
 marked with a chuckle : 
 
 " Well, we nosed him about ! " 
 
 " Lucky for me ! " returned Franzl. 
 
 "Oh, I didn't mind doing you a good turn," 
 Pauli rejoined, with frank indifference. " The 
 mother wouldn't leave you alone. But what I 
 wanted most was to pay him off. He offered me 
 forty marks this morning, and said that was all I 
 was worth. He pretended there was something 
 the matter with my knees. I'm an old boy, and a 
 sixty-mark boy, and when I saw him put his eye 
 on you I made up my mind I'd make the price, 
 and he shouldn't have you for less than fifty. 
 That other fellow was angry with him, too, for 
 some such trick. He and his sister and I, we sold 
 you well. Knees indeed! Old Skinflint had to 
 pay fifty. He's rich as a king ten or twelve cows 
 and no end of vineyards."
 
 36 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 Franzl's eyes opened wide at such visions of 
 affluence, but he took exception to Pauli's tone, 
 and remarked, loftily : 
 
 "Oh, I could have sold myself alone. I was 
 getting on all right." 
 
 " We'd better eat all we can stuff," observed the 
 practical Pauli, in no respect moved by Franzl's 
 ingratitude. 
 
 Whereupon the boys relapsed into silence and 
 devoured everything that was set before them. 
 
 That night Franzl, wedged between his master 
 and another heavily built man, had his first ride 
 on the railway. The carriage was crowded with 
 peasants smoking their pipes and talking of the 
 market, prices, cattle, vineyards, and crops. Franzl 
 was wildly excited by the movement, and although 
 it was an accommodation-train of surpassing slow- 
 ness, he held his breath with delight, and fancied 
 himself flying. He must tell his mother about it, 
 he resolved the thump-thump, the other motion, 
 and the rushing through the air. She would never 
 believe it. She would say : 
 
 "Franzl, thou art a little boy, but a great 
 rogue." 
 
 Ah, there was the lump in his throat again. He 
 was always forgetting there wasn't any mother any
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 37 
 
 more. He couldn't run home and tell her any- 
 thing. She would never smile at him again, never 
 speak again. 
 
 The lump grew very big. In the smoky, dim 
 light, no one noticed the homesick, heartsick, tired 
 little boy, squeezed between two broad peasants, 
 the tears rolling down his face. 
 
 He wept till he fell asleep, and dreamed a happy 
 dream of the swift mountain-brook foaming down 
 the rocks behind the cottage.
 
 m. 
 
 THE young Alexander was doubtless far less 
 proud of his snorting Bucephalus than Franzl of 
 his clumsy, rattling, bright-green milk-cart. It is 
 true that nothing better than a horse has ever been 
 invented for a boy's delight, and even if Alexan- 
 der had no printing-press, no bicycle, and no de- 
 tective-camera, he possessed, in his historic nag, 
 the best thing a boy could then, or can now, call 
 his own. Still he had had other horses, as well as 
 everything provided in those days for the enter- 
 tainment of Macedonian youth and kings' sons 
 and if there was anything else in the world which 
 he thought worth having, we read that he helped 
 himself to it later without shyness whereas Franzl 
 had never owned much of anything. If he played 
 with a toy, it had been of his own construc- 
 tion, and neither he nor any boy of his acquaint- 
 ance had ever had a story-book. The only books 
 they knew were school-books, for which they en- 
 tertained a healthy aversion.
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 39 
 
 When he found himself in command of his milk- 
 cart it was a great moment in his existence. Al- 
 though in point of fact he owned neither cart nor 
 milk, his sense of proprietorship was mighty as 
 he realized he was to be sole propeller of all this 
 magnificence. That it was over-heavy for a little 
 boy, that the way was long and up and down steep 
 hills, that in storm and wind, heat and cold, he 
 would have this load to push or drag after him, did 
 not enter his thoughts, for neither weather nor 
 work could frighten him. He was proud, glad, 
 eager, and ambitious. It was a distinct advance in 
 life besides being unexpected. He thought the 
 green wagon with the nine shining four-gallon 
 milk-cans, standing straight as a regiment, and two 
 measuring-cans packed crosswise in front, a beau- 
 tiful and imposing sight. The pole was nearly 
 twice as long as the little cart, and very broad and 
 strong, but its uses were manifold and its possi- 
 bilities more than appeared at the first glance. As 
 it might be attached to a horse, an ox, a donkey, a 
 cow, a dog, a man or woman, a girl or boy, it was 
 made big and adjustable to suit all their needs, 
 and none of them ever found fault with it for 
 being out of proportion. 
 
 Leni walked beside him, her grave eyes look-
 
 40 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 ing straight before her, her dark hair brushed 
 smoothly back and hanging nearly to her knees 
 in one long, heavy braid. She apparently paid no 
 attention to the boy, and as they had nothing to 
 say to each other, and were simple folk, they 
 marched on in silence, whereas when fashionable 
 people have nothing to say, they chatter as fast as 
 possible, and which is the more sensible method is 
 entirely a matter of opinion, but it is possible Soc- 
 rates might have disagreed with Mrs. Grundy on 
 this and many another point of social etiquette. 
 
 Leni and Franzl, however, never having heard 
 of either of these worthies, simply obeyed their 
 own instinct, the young girl serious, absorbed in 
 thought, the boy enchanted with the noise his cart 
 was making, eying it keenly, studying its weight 
 and properties, and the best way to draw it ; for 
 there was a cross-piece on the end of the pole, be- 
 side various dangling straps, which Franzl was 
 trying one after another as fast as possible. 
 
 Christian Lutz's large farm lay at some distance 
 beyond the village of Waldheim. After passing 
 the village the road ran between thrifty apple- 
 orchards, was level, and so hard and good that the 
 cart almost went of itself and gave little trouble. 
 But when they had walked at a brisk pace for a
 
 A BATTLE AND A BO 7. 41 
 
 half-hour or more, they came to a long, steep hill. 
 Here for the first time Leni seemed conscious of 
 her companion's presence, not that she deigned to 
 speak, but she watched him and his efforts to mas- 
 ter the situation. 
 
 It was astonishing how heavy and unwieldy the 
 docile cart suddenly became. Franzl pulled and 
 tugged bravely, glanced back questioningly as if he 
 suspected some unseen boy of loading on extra 
 weight, but the cart did not grow lighter, the hill 
 stretched on before him, and putting a stone be- 
 hind a wheel, he stopped an instant, panting and 
 wiping the moisture from his forehead with his 
 sleeve. Leni looked calmly at him as if his strug- 
 gles did not concern her. Franzl wished he had 
 not stopped. He would never stop after he was 
 used to it. He wondered what that big cross-piece 
 was for. Perhaps to push. He turned the cart 
 and began to back it up the hill. Although it was 
 still hard enough work, he could use all his weight 
 and so get a purchase and manage the thing very 
 well without losing more time. 
 
 " Eight," said Leni ; this one word, no more and 
 no less, and went on with her unconcerned air. 
 
 They reached the brow of the hill and began the 
 long downward slope. Presently Franzl found
 
 42 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 himself and his cart careering along as wildly as if 
 a separate demon sat enthroned in every milk-can 
 and inspired the mad flight. The cart seemed 
 alive, and Franzl, a mere helpless appendage, 
 dragged along in its train. But his was not a spir- 
 it that would easily acknowledge itself beaten, and 
 by a milk-cart, too ! With a strong effort he ran it 
 to the side of the road, and at the risk of overturn- 
 ing it, succeeded in getting the side-wheels into a 
 ditch. This manoeuvre effectually controlled its 
 friskiness, and the little boy paused to take breath 
 and counsel with the inner Franzl. He was amazed 
 to discover what eccentricities of conduct, what 
 headstrong speed, and unmanageable momentum 
 a placid milk-cart, could upon more intimate ac- 
 quaintance develop. 
 
 Leni had apparently left him to his fate. He 
 felt irritated. She might at least stop and look 
 back. After all, it was her old father's old milk- 
 cart. He cautiously put the thing in the middle 
 of the road again, uncertain what it would attempt 
 to do next, and this time he had the good sense to 
 place himself in front and bear back sturdily with 
 the strong little legs which Christian Lutz had spe- 
 cially bought at the child-market. In this manner 
 he got the recalcitrant cart well in hand, and was
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 43 
 
 relieved to see that it could not again take the bit 
 in its teeth and run away with him. 
 
 He now overtook Leni, who once more turned 
 her grave face toward him and said : 
 
 " Eight." 
 
 They tramped on silent as before, but when they 
 came to the next hill Leni put her hand on the 
 cross-piece and pushed with him. 
 
 " I know how to do it myself, without any wom- 
 an-folks," Franzl informed her. 
 
 The young girl took no notice of his arrogance, 
 but continued to help him. Again, at a steep de- 
 scent she made herself useful, steering the cart bet- 
 ter than he could. 
 
 "You can't do it all at once," she began. "I've 
 gone with the cart until to-day." 
 
 " Oh, have you ? " he returned, with more respect 
 than he had hitherto shown. 
 
 " I'm too old to go with it, since father can af- 
 ford to have somebody else," she remarked, quietly. 
 
 " You look awful old," he assured her. 
 
 " I told father to buy a boy at Eavensburg. He 
 had to go down there to see a man who owes him 
 some money. I told him he'd better get a boy. 
 You're not as stupid as some." 
 
 Franzl, secretly flattered, answered negligently :
 
 44 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " I don't call this much work. I could pull a 
 heavier cart than this." 
 
 The tall strong girl looked kindly and with a 
 slight smile at the breathless, flushed little boy. 
 
 " It is heavy for me," she said, simply, " but that 
 is not the reason why I didn't want to pull it any 
 more." 
 
 " Did your father buy me because you said so ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Does he do everything you tell him ? " he went 
 on, inquisitively, thinking it would be a lucky con- 
 dition of things if Leni were captain, instead of 
 Christian Lutz. 
 
 " When it suits him, when he thinks it for his 
 advantage ; but not often," she replied in her se- 
 rious fashion. "Father is a very prudent man." 
 She gave a little sigh, and Franzl feared that the 
 peasant was captain after all Leni's captain as 
 well as his own. 
 
 The cart was now conducting itself with much 
 discretion, and FranzTs joy was profound, especi- 
 ally as he saw other carts and other boys coming 
 into the main road from byways. Reaching behind 
 him and before him was a line of green carts, 
 some drawn by dogs, some by women, many by 
 children, but not a boy was so small as he. He
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 45 
 
 observed that women with baskets of vegetables 
 and eggs on their heads joined the procession, all 
 bound for the Wynburg market. 
 
 "I'm glad you told him to buy me!" he ex- 
 claimed, warmly. 
 
 " You try to please him," returned Leni. " He 
 is very pious. Nobody is so religious as father. 
 He's at church as regular as the parson," she said, 
 with considerable family pride. " But if he gets 
 anything into his head against anybody, nothing 
 and nobody can drive it out." 
 
 " I think there is more chance of pleasing you," 
 Franzl replied, heartily, for he was fast growing 
 used to Leni, and her quiet sensible face inspired 
 him with confidence. He could not help wonder- 
 ing why she was so serious. The other women 
 were chattering, laughing, calling to one another. 
 Leni bade them good-morning as she passed, but 
 joined no gossipping group. Straight, tall, clear- 
 eyed, her basket of salad on her head, she went 
 steadily on with the little boy, spoke little and 
 smiled less, yet with every step he liked her better. 
 It seemed a long time to him since they had 
 carried his mother off to the churchyard. The 
 queer thing about the lump in his throat was that 
 he never knew when it was coming.
 
 46 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " asked Leni, abruptly. 
 
 " Nothing," Franzl muttered. 
 
 "Are you tired?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Are you in trouble ? " 
 
 "Don't know." 
 
 " But you are crying." 
 
 " Girl's cry when they are tired. Boy's don't," 
 he informed her, in a proud but choking tone. 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " Girl's cry for a great many reasons, sometimes 
 good ones, sometimes not. But it is no sin for 
 them or you. I've seen already that you are no 
 baby. What is it, Franzl ? Are you homesick ? " 
 
 Now Franzl did not know what he was, whether 
 homesick or in trouble, or anything else. He had 
 not slept much for he had been on his first rail- 
 way journey till late in the night, and not even a 
 boy can really sleep when he is jolting up and 
 down for dear life, besides being jammed as flat as 
 a squashed mosquito on the window-pane. He had 
 been walking for days, had seen strange sights and 
 people (as wonderful to him as things were to 
 the great Ulysses on his more extended travels) ; 
 he was honestly proud of his cart and of himself, 
 and doubly pleased with his importance when he
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 4T 
 
 beheld all his colleagues with carts many of them 
 men and women. Just now he happened to wish 
 his mother could see him with the cart, and the 
 lump came ; but the reason he was crying, so far 
 as he knew, was because something in Leni's voice 
 made him cry, and he just wished she wouldn't, so 
 there now ! 
 
 They had come to the cross-roads where the inn 
 called "The Linde" stood. Leni pointed to the 
 stone bench on the corner. 
 
 " Sit down and rest a minute," she said, at the 
 same time slipping the basket from her head to 
 the high stone shelf or table. The child sobbed 
 hard a few moments. He had not wept like that 
 since the day his mother died. 
 
 Leni scanned the many roads winding away to 
 distant hills, and the many figures far and near, 
 tramping by meadow and orchard and vineyard. 
 
 " It will be a good market," she said. " There's 
 old Mariele the butter-woman. She has five good 
 hours to walk and we have only two, Franzl." 
 
 " I can walk a great deal more than five hours," 
 he assured her, huskily. " I don't call that much." 
 
 "Come along now and don't cry any more. 
 They will think we have been beating you." 
 
 Leni slipped her basket from the stone table,
 
 48 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 which was as tall as she, to her head and walked 
 on, saying nothing more until she saw that the boy 
 was calm again. 
 
 " See here, Franzl, you're not a bad kind of boy. 
 I don't like boys much. They are rough and sly, 
 and not worth much till they get older sometimes 
 not then. I have my opinion of men folks." 
 
 " Pauli's mother doesn't think much of them 
 either," Franzl remarked, sagaciously. 
 
 " Who is she ? " 
 
 "The woman who made me sell myself. She 
 isn't afraid for Pauli. He's steady like her. But 
 Josef is sulky. He takes after his father. And 
 they only pay twenty marks for little Vroni, but if 
 they will be easy with her, she doesn't mind. I 
 suppose she's got cold, for she had a shawl over 
 her head and her man's hat, too. He's broken his 
 leg in two places. It's an inconvenient season 
 for broken legs. But men folks always make all 
 the trouble they can, and women folks always have 
 the worst of it. Lord, this is a world ! " 
 
 Leni laughed, but Franzl hadn't the faintest 
 idea why. 
 
 " You have a good memory," she said. " Pauli's 
 mother was kind to you ? " 
 
 " Yes like you," returned the child, simply.
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 49 
 
 After a while she rejoined : 
 
 " People don't call me kind very often. You see 
 I have my own ways. But I'll be kind to you. I 
 promise you that. Some day you may tell me 
 about your home and what made you cry. Not 
 now, for we are coming into the city. I suppose 
 you are lonesome? I suppose you want your 
 family?" 
 
 " Oh, no, I don't want it now," he broke out 
 eagerly; "because I shouldn't know what to do 
 with it, you know, and I couldn't take care of it 
 right, myself; but I'm going to have it later, as 
 sure as you live." 
 
 Leni, somewhat preoccupied, did not pay par- 
 ticular attention to his enigmatical remarks and 
 eagerness. 
 
 " You see, Franzl," she said, " some people are 
 lonesome with their families, and some are lone- 
 some without them, and nobody can get out of his 
 own skin." 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " exclaimed Franzl, not at her philoso- 
 phy, but because he saw the city down in the misty 
 valley : many church-spires ; smoke rising from a 
 forest of chimneys ; the sun shining on metal and 
 glass ; so many, many houses, and a flood of sun- 
 light.
 
 50 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 
 
 Recovering from his first amazement and fearing 
 that he might have seemed too much overcome, he 
 said, superciliously : 
 
 " It would be handsomer with snow-peaks ! " 
 
 Missing Leni, he looked back. 
 
 She was standing where a narrow path from 
 some vineyards met the high road, and a good-look- 
 ing young man in a blue blouse was talking ear- 
 nestly with her by a stone wall. 
 
 " I can't stay," Franzl heard her say. " You 
 oughtn't to stop me here. It will only make more 
 trouble. You must have patience, Karl." 
 
 "But can you hold out, Leni? Are you sure? 
 He's a hard man, your father." 
 
 " I am his daughter, I am hard too," and her 
 mouth set sternly. " Go back now, Karl. Please 
 don't let them see you. Half the village is coming 
 down this morning." 
 
 Franzl had turned the cart that he could stare at 
 them better, and was listening with interest, but he 
 did not hear what Karl answered just before he 
 ran back into the vineyard. It seemed to please 
 Leni, however, for she smiled and smiled and 
 looked quite different. 
 
 "Franzl," she began, hurriedly rejoining him, 
 " that is our first house the big one by the park,
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 51 
 
 with the piazza and garden. You must notice 
 everything and learn all you can, so that soon you 
 can come alone. They take a great deal of milk 
 there ; there are children, and they want it before 
 seven, for they go off early to school. The cook is 
 kind. It is a good house, one of the best." 
 
 She put her hand on the pole and the two to- 
 gether ran the cart down a short hill at a break- 
 neck pace, and with motion enough to churn the 
 milk. The cart obeyed Leni as a well-trained 
 horse obeys its master, while it still had coltish 
 tricks with Franzl. 
 
 They crossed a paved court and went up a flight 
 of stairs. 
 
 A door was flung open at the top, and a boy of 
 about Franzl's size, a small silver watch open in 
 his hand, called imperiously : 
 
 " Here, you little rascal, what do you mean by 
 keeping me waiting ? You are five minutes late ! " 
 
 Franzl scowled with a will over his big milk 
 can, while Leni said, coolly : 
 
 " Then Herr Kurt will have to eat five minutes 
 less time at breakfast, or run five minutes faster to 
 school." 
 
 " Oh, it's you, is it, Leni ? " 
 
 " Don't scold that nice little boy ! " cried Hilde-
 
 52 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 gard, whisking on to the scene on one toe, and try- 
 ing ineffectually to trill on a very high note. She 
 had once been to the opera, and ever since had 
 cherished the intention of becoming a great singer, 
 but sometimes she confused the spheres of the 
 prima donna and the ballet. 
 
 " Hush, children, you'll wake mamma," said a tall 
 fair-haired girl. "Good-morning, Leni. Good- 
 morning, little boy. Be quiet, children. Kurt, 
 how can you ! " 
 
 " Oh, don't you wish I was a deaf-and-dumber ? 
 Mamma doesn't mind my noise. She only minds 
 Hildegard's," Kurt retorted, mockingly. 
 
 "But you are twice as noisy as I. Isn't he, 
 Doris?" 
 
 The older sister drew them both into the kitchen, 
 which, with its blue and white tiles and polished 
 copper saucepans, seemed magnificent to Franzl, 
 but he could not really enjoy the sight because 
 that grinning Kurt was looking at him. Franzl 
 wished he had him out on the road without any 
 women folks about. 
 
 But Leni was measuring the milk, and he had to 
 attend to business, postponing his schemes of ven- 
 geance and merely glaring after Kurt's handsome 
 coat as it disappeared from view, when Doris
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 53 
 
 marched her explosive young brother and sister 
 into the breakfast-room. 
 
 " So this is the boy ? " Nanni the cook said, 
 kindly. " Quite a little man." 
 
 " You'll look after him a bit at first, won't you ? " 
 
 " Of course, but you'll come again ? " 
 
 " To-morrow, yes, and until Franzl gets sensible, 
 and understands." 
 
 " I'm sensible," Franzl declared, as soon as they 
 had left the house. " I can pour out that milk." 
 
 "Pouring the milk isn't the hardest part of it," 
 she returned, dryly. " You looked as if you wanted 
 to pour it on Herr Kurt's head. Now, you cannot 
 tell what will happen in any house. You have to 
 take it as it comes, whatever it is. But business 
 is business, and if you undertake to bring people 
 milk, it's milk they want and nothing else. They 
 don't ask whether you are footsore or hungry, or 
 pleased or angry, or what troubles you've got in 
 your heart. That isn't what they buy. They buy 
 milk. Eemember that, Franzl. That's what you've 
 got to learn. Besides, Kurt isn't a bad fellow, 
 either." 
 
 "I'll punch his head," Franzl interrupted, 
 fiercely. 
 
 " I don't care if you do, but you can't when you
 
 54 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 are on your rounds with the cart. It isn't honest. 
 You promise the people to bring the milk. You 
 promise me. You say you are big enough to run 
 this business. Then you can't punch heads till 
 afterwards. Besides you'll have too many to 
 punch. There are too many boys. Don't you see ? " 
 
 Franzl did see. He was obliged to acknowledge 
 the force of the argument. After thinking a while 
 he muttered: 
 
 "But I'll remember them all and punch them 
 some time." 
 
 Leni smiled. 
 
 " Better forget," she said, kindly. " And don't 
 mind Kurt. He can't help it. He doesn't mean 
 any harm. He's never had anything to do but to 
 go to school, and play, and amuse himself, and 
 wear good clothes, and eat all he wants. If he 
 should hammer a tune with an iron hammer on 
 their big mirror, his mother would think it pretty 
 manners." 
 
 " I'll hammer him ! " exclaimed Franzl. 
 
 " What for? We were five minutes late. They 
 are our first customers. They ought to have their 
 milk at seven, sharp. I usually get there ten or 
 fifteen minutes early, and have a chat with Nanni. 
 But you were a little slower, not being used to the
 
 A BATTLE AND A BO 7. 55 
 
 cart, and then we stopped a while at the stone 
 bench you know. Herr Kurt might have spoken 
 pleasanter, to be sure. Sometimes he oversleeps 
 and is late himself. Still he has a right to his 
 milk at seven, and it is the milkman's business to 
 remember that." 
 
 " I don't care what he said," persisted Franzl, 
 " it's the way his monkey -face looks that makes 
 me mad." 
 
 " Oh, never mind him," Leni returned, placidly ; 
 "that's silly. I used to mind such things my- 
 self, but going about with the milk into so many 
 houses year after year, you learn a good deal. 
 Perhaps you'd act worse than Kurt, if you never 
 had to work, and when you sneezed somebody 
 thought it sweeter than a nightingale." 
 
 "I never heard a nightingale," Franzl said, 
 brightly. 
 
 " You'll hear them this summer up in the bushes 
 and low trees near us." 
 
 " Oh, what is that ? " he exclaimed, pointing to 
 a tall draped figure on a high pedestal in the park 
 they were passing. 
 
 " Well, I don't know exactly," Leni replied, with 
 indifference. " It is a kind of a big brown woman 
 without much on. I saw her when they were put-
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 ting her up. Then they strapped on that cloth to 
 cover her through the winter, and I've heard that 
 they are going to unstrap it and uncover her, some- 
 time this spring, and stand round her, and make 
 speeches and sing, and the prince will be there. 
 It is queer the things they are always getting up ; 
 but I suppose it amuses them, and they haven't 
 much to do, and might as well do that as any- 
 thing else." 
 
 " If I didn't have anything to do, I'd do some- 
 thing better than that." 
 
 "What would you do?" 
 
 "I'd ride on the railway a whole year with a 
 whole seat all to myself." 
 
 " I don't think I should like that. I should be 
 afraid. The rich people seem to like statues," she 
 continued. " I don't mind the white ones down in 
 the King's park, they look so clean. But this is a 
 queer brown thing. But there's to be a fountain 
 and a dog's basin, and seats in the shade, and 
 that's a good thing as you'll find, for it's a long 
 pull from the market in the summer, and straight 
 up almost the whole way, and a body's glad to rest 
 a minute and breathe, and you needn't look at the 
 big brown woman unless you want to," she con- 
 cluded, carelessly.
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 57 
 
 This was the first art lecture which Franzl ever 
 heard. Leaving the shrouded Galatea behind, 
 Leni cheerfully introduced him to the next house 
 on his beat. From this time they were very busy, 
 being now in the heart of the city and having to 
 serve customers rapidly. Up and down long 
 flights of stairs, across courts, into shops, Franzl 
 carried the can and measures, and Leni let him 
 pour out the milk, and even sometimes take the 
 money and make change. He learned fast under 
 her watchful tuition, and kept the accounts in a 
 little book. 
 
 Everywhere she had a word to say of the families 
 to whose needs she ministered not a long gossip- 
 ping tale, but some hint of the household interior 
 which would have vastly surprised her customers. 
 For walls have ears, and cooks have tongues, and 
 Leni among strangers was a silent young person, 
 who could listen, observe, and learn much. 
 
 " They are unhappy in this house," she informed 
 him, "all at sixes and sevens." 
 
 " Unhappy in such a beautiful big house ? " 
 
 " The wife goes to balls all the time, and the 
 husband is pale and does nothing but work. He 
 takes his coffee alone when the milk comes. She'll 
 have hers in bed hours later."
 
 58 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Why doesn't he make her get up and go to 
 work ? I would." 
 
 " Here, Franzl, we have a pint to take up five 
 flights. It's such a nice customer. You'll see." 
 
 Up they went to a small room where a hand- 
 some young man in his shirt sleeves sat at a table 
 littered with books and papers. He was singing 
 so loud that he did not hear Leni's first knock. 
 
 " Ah, there you are, Phyllis ; and who is the 
 curly pate? I thought you had no brothers or 
 sisters ? " 
 
 " It's the new boy, Herr Professor. Father 
 bought him at the child-market." 
 
 "Professor in spe" remarked the young man, 
 holding a small cracked pitcher for Leni to fill. 
 
 " My compliments to your father. He has eyes 
 in his head. Come here, you young faun." 
 
 He smoothed back Franzl's tangled curls and 
 looked with so searching a glance in the brown 
 rosy face that he plunged the boy into profound 
 embarrassment, particularly as he didn't know 
 whether " faun " was a term which he ought to 
 resent or not. 
 
 " He's going to bring the milk alone as soon as 
 I teach him." 
 
 " What, a partner ? A useful and respectable
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 59 
 
 citizen at his age? It is more than I am. 1 
 shall miss you, Leni. How are things going ? " 
 he asked, kindly. 
 
 "No better, thank you," she returned with a 
 blush, " about the same." 
 
 " Courage," he said, heartily. " You are young 
 yet," taking a little coffee-machine from its hon- 
 orable place on a Greek Lexicon. " If ever I 
 can do anything for you, Leni, come, or send the 
 faun." 
 
 " You have a kind heart, Herr Professor." 
 
 " Oh, as to that," he said, smiling, and secretly 
 wishing that his bank account was as kind as his 
 heart. 
 
 " What does in spe mean ? " demanded Franzl 
 the instant they reached the street. 
 
 "Oh, it doesn't mean anything," Leni said, 
 calmly. " It's only his nonsense." 
 
 " Why did he caU me ' faun ? ' What is a ' faun ' 
 anyhow ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't suppose it is much of anything," 
 Leni replied with not a trace of interest. 
 
 " What was it he called you ? What kind of a 
 thing is a Phyllis ? " 
 
 " I never hear his queer talk," she said, indul-
 
 60 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 gently. " He is so kind. You don't know how 
 kind he is. Didn't you like him ? " 
 
 " I don't like to be called names I don't know 
 the meaning of," Franzl replied, with dignity. 
 
 He was silent and thoughtful some time, and 
 looked up occasionally in Leni's face with a puz- 
 zled expression. She had seemed so wise and 
 old to him. 
 
 At length he asked : 
 
 " Does he know more than you ? " 
 
 " I suppose so," she said, negligently. " He 
 doesn't know more about cows, or farming." 
 
 " Why does he sit at that table ? " he broke out, 
 impetuously. " What does he want of such piles 
 of books ? He's a big man. Nobody can make 
 him go to school. Why doesn't he go out of 
 doors ? I'd go hunting and fishing. I wouldn't 
 sit cooped up in the house ! " 
 
 Leni looked surprised. 
 
 " Why, what a pepper-box you are, about noth- 
 ing! I suppose he likes his books. He sings 
 over them and seems happy. And he does go 
 hunting and fishing sometimes. He doesn't get 
 all he wants in the world any more than some 
 other people." 
 
 " What's his name ? "
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 61 
 
 " Herr Arno Theobald." 
 
 "He'd better talk like other people and go 
 a-fishing," persisted Franzl, doggedly. 
 
 "Perhaps I'll tell you more about him some 
 time. You know, Franzl, I don't tell tales about 
 my customers to everybody. It is only because 
 you are my partner. I don't know when I've 
 talked so much as to-day. I'm rather still 
 mostly. But you'll be careful, Franzl." 
 
 " I know enough to hold my tongue. I'm not 
 a girl." 
 
 " I hope you do," she went on, earnestly. 
 " And Franzl " hesitating " about that little 
 talk at the side of the road this morning there 
 by the vineyard you won't say anything about 
 that, will you ? Not to anybody ? It would do 
 harm. And it wasn't my fault. You'll under- 
 stand when you're older." 
 
 Franzl looked at her with an air of reproach. 
 
 " I understand now. I know about lovers" 
 he said, grandly. " I've seen some in the Venter 
 Thai. There's a good many of them there." 
 He spoke with cold remoteness as of specimens 
 of an extinct race. " I shan't say anything about 
 you." 
 
 " So much the better," returned Leni, quietly.
 
 62 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Wait here, Franzl, I'll go in alone. They are 
 good people," she explained when she came back, 
 " old ladies, sisters. I always need a little time 
 for them, they are so interested in everything and 
 everybody. If you had gone up, they would 
 have been so surprised, it would have taken too 
 much time, and I should have had to tell more 
 than I know about you. Now come on fast. 
 Take care! Big teams can't turn out for you. 
 Here we are at the market."
 
 IV. 
 
 ONE of the prettiest sights in every great city is 
 its market, and each has its special charm: each 
 tells the traveller, intrepid enough to sacrifice his 
 morning slumbers and go down among the veritable 
 pillars of society, a tale not told by fashionable 
 shops or even monuments and museums ; each 
 shows him a picture not easily forgotten, a glimpse 
 of warm pulsating life. He feels for an instant the 
 strong undercurrent of toil sweeping on beneath 
 the surface-bubbles of his easy existence ; he per- 
 ceives much that is beautiful, much that is rough 
 and repulsive, more color, more freshness, more 
 smells, good and bad, than he knew existed, and 
 the most sordid traffic, the most ignoble haggling, 
 detestable because greedy, pardonable, since its 
 source is for the most part need and anxiety ; and 
 he goes away more thoughtful than he comes a 
 healthful condition for most of us and detects, on 
 that day at least, a few fundamental facts below the 
 glittering superstructure of his hotel-dinner.
 
 64 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 
 
 Nowhere is the market prettier than in Wyn- 
 burg. Where else in the world do so fascinatingly 
 ugly old women, with their baskets of vegetables 
 on the ground in front of them, sit and knit and 
 gossip in the sunshine on the warm side of such 
 castle- walls ? Where else do so severely noble 
 towers rise from a jumble of booths and carts, of 
 cries and calls in the ear-rending Suabian dialect ? 
 Where do rosy chestnut-spikes mass themselves in 
 such richness, and trees serenely claim their royal 
 right of way, occupy the best places, and refuse to 
 yield to the pressure of trade. Where do visions 
 of sixteenth century knights, with a fierce troop of 
 mounted men, dash out of a picturesque arcaded 
 quadrangle, and create sad havoc among peaceful 
 piles of vegetables, and incongruous old wives 
 knitting in stolid unconsciousness of their his- 
 toric background ? From the open square behind 
 the church where the Schiller statue stands, down 
 to the great glass building, the market proper 
 through the queer crooked tunnel - like streets di- 
 verging from the original market place of centu- 
 ries ago, where a few ancient patrician houses 
 still display their unmistakable lineaments the 
 whole region in the heart of the modern city is 
 full of charm even without the motley life which
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 65 
 
 surges beneath the silent old towers three days in 
 the week. 
 
 Leni and Franzl were not disturbed by phan- 
 tom knights, and the beauty of the castle did not 
 enter their innocent thoughts, which were bent 
 upon getting the cart successfully through the 
 crowd, and took keen notice of the general condi- 
 tion and quantity of cabbages, carrots, spinach and 
 cauliflower, and all manner of salads and cresses 
 from brook and meadow. 
 
 In the corner of the market building was Leni's 
 stall with a cool chest for her remaining supply of 
 milk. She had relapsed into her silent mood, say- 
 ing only what was strictly necessary and looking 
 grave, almost stern indeed. But she gave Franzl 
 a piece of black bread and a small cup of milk, 
 and told him to sit down and rest a few minutes 
 on a box near her, where he perched contentedly, 
 greatly relishing his repast and staring with won- 
 dering eyes at the ever-moving crowd in the great 
 building so full of noise and light. 
 
 Leni seemed to be a person of considerable im- 
 portance. Women employed by her father came 
 to her to report, ask advice, complain or gossip a 
 bit. For the most part she sent them off quickly 
 with a cold business-like air, after a few sharp in-
 
 66 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 quiries. Often she would appear suddenly where 
 she was least expected and listen silently to the 
 bargaining between a shrewd cook bent upon her 
 advantage and the equally shrewd old woman 
 whose province it was to represent Christian Lutz's 
 interests. All her father's people seemed to be 
 always aware of her presence, and her still cold 
 manner had more weight than the scolding and 
 abuse of the others. 
 
 " Proud thing ! " Franzl heard a woman, whom 
 Leni had reproved for some negligence, say spite- 
 fully. " Since she can't have her way with old 
 Christian, she's bound to have it with us." 
 
 " I don't know what is the matter with the girl," 
 sneered another. " Why doesn't she take Klumpp 
 and be done with it and wear a decent face on her ? 
 She can't do better than the biggest farm for miles 
 around, even if Klumpp has got the palsy and one 
 foot in the grave and it isn't very lively at his 
 house. A farm like that ! What more can a girl 
 want ? As for Karl, she might as well give him up 
 first as last. Old Christian never changes his 
 mind. If she doesn't look out she'll fall between 
 two stools, and serve her right. A man sixty years 
 old can't wait forever for a silly girl. There she 
 goes, with a face like a stone image and not a civil
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 67 
 
 word for anybody. What are you staring at ? " she 
 demanded roughly, making a dive at Franzl, who 
 was listening open-mouthed to these revelations. 
 
 " You," he responded, impudently, having sprung 
 to a safe distance and saluting her with a series of 
 leers and grimaces. 
 
 Leni beckoned to him. 
 
 "Don't be silly," she said, coldly. "Babies 
 make faces. Eemember you are in business." 
 
 He felt ashamed, and tried hard to look seriously 
 upon his new honors and responsibilities, and to 
 struggle against a tendency to enlivening little dis- 
 sipations, such as occasional whoops and yells in 
 the ears of the people who had walked half the 
 night and were now napping at their posts. He 
 was also pursued by the gnawing desire to make 
 faces at persons who called him "rascal" and 
 " good-for-nothing " and " brat," terms which were 
 flung about freely at the market, not so much on 
 account of the mischief that any particular boy was 
 actually doing, as from a large comprehension of 
 the latent talent of the genus. Franzl finally made 
 a mental compromise between his natural inclina- 
 tions and his growing wish to please Leni, and de- 
 cided to take no notice of " rascal " or " good-for- 
 nothing ; " but as " brat," for some occult reason,
 
 68 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 
 
 was particularly obnoxious to his fiery tempera- 
 ment, to respond to it with his most diabolical face 
 provided he thought Leni wouldn't see. As for 
 boys, he didn't count them. A little scrimmaging 
 and scuffling must go on as a matter of course. 
 Even Leni didn't demand total abstinence in this 
 respect except when he was on duty responsible 
 for the safety of the cart. 
 
 He worked well all the long day. Sent with 
 vegetables after a lady, and following her through 
 the strange streets of the city, he lost his way on 
 the return-trip and wandered about helplessly for 
 some time. Again Leni spoke coldly to him : 
 
 " It is babyish to lose your way. You have eyes, 
 you notice, and your memory is good." 
 
 " In the woods or the mountains it's different," 
 he stammered, " but the city makes such a noise 
 and all the streets look alike." 
 
 " Don't do it again," she said, and turned away. 
 Franzl silently vowed he wouldn't, and, thus put 
 upon his mettle, and expected to do his best, he 
 did it, counting streets, making mental notes of 
 signs, fountains, monuments, conspicuous buildings, 
 anything that would serve as landmark, for it cut 
 him to the soul to hear the word " babyish " from 
 Leni's lips.
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 69 
 
 Business slackened perceptibly toward noon. 
 Leni sent him on an occasional errand; but he 
 had time to think harder than ever in his life be- 
 fore, when he really could come to himself after 
 the bewildering changes of the last few days, and 
 sometimes it seemed to him he must be quite a 
 different boy from Franzl Eeiner. 
 
 In the first place, he felt as if he had always 
 known Leni, yet he never saw her before that very 
 morning. It was very queer. It was as if her 
 smooth, dark head, her quiet face, and her voice 
 had been familiar to him always in Heilig-Kreuz. 
 What did those old things mean by calling her 
 proud ? Proud girls wore gay clothes and beads. 
 Leni was dressed in a plain dark gown, and wore 
 her hair in a long tail with no bright ribbon on it. 
 She looked all straight and smooth. Then she 
 wasn't proud. That was silly. What did they 
 mean by saying she'd better give up Karl ? Karl 
 was very nice. He had merry eyes. He had 
 looked at her as if he saw nothing else, not even 
 the milk-cart. But Leni had glanced about every- 
 where as if she was frightened. Franzl wondered 
 if Karl had a gun, and if he'd ever shot a 
 chamois. But no, they had no chamois. The 
 mountains were too low. Perhaps Karl had a long
 
 70 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 hunter's knife. He was big and strong. He 
 looked only at Leni. That was because they were 
 lovers. Lovers always looked at each other. Max 
 and Luise did, and so did Georg and Rosine, and 
 Benedikt and Beate. Afterward something hap- 
 pened, and Benedikt went away and Rosine didn't 
 look at anybody for a long time, and then she 
 looked at Ludwig. Oh, yes, he knew very well 
 what lovers were. It was foolish of Leni to sup- 
 pose he didn't. She forgot that he was eleven. 
 Of course it was different when you liked people 
 and when you didn't. He liked Leni. He hated 
 Kurt. He wished he had Kurt's watch-chain, and 
 would fight him if ever he caught him in the 
 street. When you like people awfully it's lovers. 
 That's the way his father and mother were, and 
 his mother and he, and he and Loisl. When Loisl 
 was big enough to live with him, he would buy 
 her a blue frock like Fraulein Doris's with ribbon 
 danglers. The mother said : 
 
 " Some day you must be together. Some day 
 you will be a young man and she still a wee girl, 
 and you must take care of her. She is all the fam- 
 ily you have, my poor Franzl, and you are all the 
 family she has. If I could take you both with me ! 
 The way will be long and hard for you, but you
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 71 
 
 are my brave, loving Franzl. You will grow to be 
 a man and take care of her." 
 
 She said it that very last day when she was so 
 white and her eyes were strange. She told him, 
 too, that it was better for him to go away, better 
 for him and better for the others, for nobody had 
 more than enough in the village, and there were 
 too many boys already, and while people were kind 
 and would take care of Loisl his Reverence prom- 
 ised it he must go among strangers and work his 
 way, but never forget his little sister. Perhaps 
 something good would happen. It did sometimes. 
 All the neighbors would be good to Loisl. His 
 Eeverence would see to the papers and send him 
 to the child-market. Konrad had gone three 
 springs ago and taken a place for the summer, and 
 liked his master. There were good people every- 
 where. If Franzl was good he would find them. 
 
 Then she put her two hands on his head and 
 held them there long long, and his heart was 
 bursting because she said she must leave him all 
 alone, except for Loisl, and ever since, when he 
 thought of her, and that was often, his heart 
 swelled and his throat choked. 
 
 It used to be pleasantest when his father came 
 home after a long hunting-tour with the strangers.
 
 72 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 All the room was bright when he strode in with his 
 big gun, filling the room with his laugh, and telling 
 everything that had happened. The mother made 
 pancakes, listening and smiling always, and Franzl 
 sat on his knee and laughed too, whether he un- 
 derstood or not. After the father was gone, the 
 room was never so bright again, and the mother 
 never smiled so and listened. Still, while she was 
 there, he had not missed his father so much. Now 
 he missed them both, the mother most, for he had 
 been always with her. And here he was on a box 
 in the Wynburg market, and there was no mother, 
 no father, no cottage, no warm stove and pancakes, 
 no snow-mountains, no brook foaming over the 
 rocks. That was why it often seemed as if there 
 were no Franzl any more. 
 
 When he put his hands over his ears tight, and 
 then removed them suddenly, and did it again and 
 again, it made the great hum like big bees come 
 and go, nearer and farther. Leni said more milk 
 would come down for the evening customers. 
 Then he must take it to more big houses. When 
 he was a man he was going to have a big house 
 himself and live in it with Loisl. How much 
 would a blue gown with danglers cost, he won- 
 dered ? But first Loisl must have a short red frock
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 73 
 
 like Fraulein Hildegard's. She was a nice little 
 girl. She had a leaf in her hand. He hated 
 Kurt, and would hit him the very first chance 
 sure ! That old woman with the carrots had a face 
 exactly like a nut-face, such as his mother used to 
 make for him ; eyebrows like smooches of ink ; a 
 nose that went in before it came out, and a chin 
 that ran away into her kerchief. The nut-woman's 
 head was stuck on a stick with red sealing-wax. 
 The old woman's kerchief was red, and she was like 
 a stick like two sticks when she walked. 
 
 He wondered how long it would take him to save 
 money enough to buy a big house for himself and 
 Loisl. When he left Heilig-Kreuz he had meant 
 to have a cottage ; but to-day, seeing so many big 
 houses, he had changed his mind. From his 
 pocket he slowly removed a piece of twine, several 
 smooth stones, an apple core, a lump of lead, a 
 rusty broken nail, a cork, a four-bladed knife with 
 three blades gone and all but the stump of the 
 fourth, a pill-box, a much-chewed pencil, a dead 
 beetle, some tar, some wire, a bit of green bottle- 
 glass, a tin box-cover with a hole bored in it, chips, 
 beans, bread-crumbs, and finally the coin Christian 
 Lutz had given him at the child-market, the first 
 money he had ever owned, together with a bit of
 
 74 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 nickel a lady had paid him for an extra errand, and 
 which Leni said he might keep, as it was not for 
 milk. 
 
 Stuffing his other treasures back into his pocket 
 he regarded the big coin and the little one medi- 
 tatively. When he was a man he was going to be 
 bright and strong like his father, and Herr Arno 
 Theobald, and Karl. It was queer that none of 
 them had a big house. Why did the cross old 
 men have all the money and farms and vineyards, 
 and the pleasant young ones with merry eyes not 
 have what they wanted? He wasn't going to be 
 like that. He was going to have what he wanted ; a 
 silver watch and chain like Kurt's, and a big house 
 bigger than Kurt's and he was going to laugh 
 like his father and look pleasant like Karl and Herr 
 Arno Theobald, for if you looked stern, and had the 
 palsy, and a bald head, it didn't seem much fun to 
 have vineyards and cows. 
 
 He wished he knew better how much things cost, 
 watch-chains and houses, for instance, and he'd like 
 a top very much. But his mother said : " Save all 
 you can earn." If he got a top, he wouldn't have so 
 much left for a house. Then perhaps he could fight 
 a boy and get his top, which would be cheaper. 
 Some time he would ask Leni some of these things.
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 75 
 
 She came toward him, thinking, involuntarily, 
 little as her life had led her to consider personal 
 beauty, what a strikingly handsome boy Franzl 
 was ; what a bold and proud air the little beggar 
 had in his shabby, dirty clothes. They were too 
 bad to patch she decided, examining him carefully 
 as she approached. She would soon make over an 
 old coat of her father's for the child. It wasn't re- 
 spectable for Christian Lutz's bought boy to look 
 so poor, and he was a bright, affectionate little fel- 
 low, rags or no rags, she concluded, while Franzl 
 built his castles in the air, gazing at his coins and 
 proudly rattling them. 
 
 "Shall I take care of them? " she asked. 
 
 He considered a while before reluctantly passing 
 them to her. 
 
 " Pockets have holes," he said, gravely. 
 
 " I will help you to save your money." 
 
 " May I look at it and touch it when I want 
 to?" 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Then you'd better keep it. You don't have to 
 fight. You see when you fight, sometimes you get 
 turned upside down and lose things. I am going 
 to save a great deal. There are some things I must 
 buy, some time."
 
 76 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 
 
 " It won't trouble me to take care of all that you 
 can save," she replied, gently. " But you must send 
 it home, mustn't you, Franzl ? Your family will 
 want it ? " 
 
 " No, my family doesn't want it yet. I can save 
 my money if I want to." 
 
 " So much the better." 
 
 " And I do want to because I must have a great 
 deal by and by, when I'm grown," he went on, with 
 calm conviction. 
 
 Leni was not sentimental, but she did not look 
 without wonder and vague pity at the ragged little 
 urchin who had sold himself for fifty marks to a 
 hard master, and could yet speak in this bright, 
 sure way of money and future plans. 
 
 "Time will tell, Franzl," she returned, indul- 
 gently. " The best thing is to do well what you 
 have to do each day." 
 
 " I'm going to have it, while I'm pleasant-look- 
 ing, like Herr Arno Theobald and your Karl," he 
 went on, to her astonishment. " I'm not going to 
 wait till I have the palsy like old Andreas Klumpp^ 
 or get fat in the waist like your father." 
 
 Leni colored deeply at his extraordinary allu- 
 sions and stared at him in increasing surprise. 
 
 " I'm going to have a big house and I'm going
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 77 
 
 to hang my father's gun that they are keeping for 
 me on the wall ; and my family and I are going 
 to live there together. You may live with us too, 
 if you want to. It's going to be a bigger house 
 than Kurt's, and I'm going to have a longer 
 watch-chain." 
 
 " Franzl, Franzl, who told you such things ? 
 What do you know about old Andreas ? " 
 
 " The women were talking. That one over there, 
 the one with the big frog mouth, called you proud, 
 and the one with the green-striped apron said you 
 couldn't get your way with old Christian and so 
 you were bent on getting it with them," he repeat- 
 ed, with scrupulous exactness. " You aren't proud, 
 are you ? You haven't any beads. They don't 
 know what is the matter with you. Why don't 
 you take Klumpp and be done with it, and wear a 
 decent face on you? What more do you want 
 than the biggest farm for miles and miles? As for 
 Karl, you might as well give him up first as last, 
 for old Christian never changes his mind. If 
 you don't look out, you'll fall between two stools, 
 and serve you right. A man sixty years old, 
 with the palsy and one foot in the grave can't wait 
 forever for a silly girl. It isn't very lively at his 
 house."
 
 78 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 Leni listened with changing color. Her face 
 grew sad and old. 
 
 "Do you remember every word you hear?" 
 she tried to ask, carelessly. 
 
 " Yes," answered the child. 
 
 " It isn't worth while. It was silly talk." 
 
 " Oh, yes, it was silly. Women are sillier than 
 men." 
 
 She stood a while lost in troubled thought. 
 
 The boy beautiful, smiling, resolute swung 
 his heels from his high box, and, undaunted by 
 his rags and homelessness, looked fearlessly into 
 the future. 
 
 At length Leni with a sigh roused herself from 
 her meditations and met the frank gaze of his 
 happy, handsome eyes. His rough curls were shin- 
 ing in the sunlight, his cheeks glowing like dark 
 peaches. He smiled trustfully, as if he belonged 
 to her. 
 
 She hoped he would forget the women's talk. 
 It would make her ill at ease to feel that the child, 
 with his dreadful memory, was speculating upon 
 her most private affairs. Probably he wouldn't 
 understand or think of them much, even if he did 
 repeat the spiteful chatter, word for word, as if it 
 were his lesson.
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 79 
 
 " Franzl, you are modest, you are ! " she began. 
 " Why don't you say you'll have the moon ? " 
 
 " Because I can't live in it," he replied, cheer- 
 fully. "I'm going to have something I can live 
 in." 
 
 " Well, wishing's cheap," she returned, dryly, 
 " for both of us. In the meantime there is al- 
 ways work to do, and here is old Wally with the 
 evening milk."
 
 V. 
 
 FRANZL worked with a will, but as he found him- 
 self in a community where everybody worked un- 
 remittingly, no task surprised or dismayed him. 
 While he pulled and tugged and strained his young, 
 growing body to the utmost limit of its strength, 
 and was dead tired every night when he threw him- 
 self upon his bed of hay, in close proximity to his 
 equine and bovine comrades, the open air and sun- 
 shine, the winds, night-dews and rains, all seemed 
 to exert happy and healthy influences upon him, 
 and he grew tall and strong like a young birch 
 by the brookside. 
 
 He never, perhaps, had quite all that he could 
 eat; but, on the other hand, he was not incom- 
 moded with headache, stomach-ache, and other 
 ills which made Kurt von Normann extremely 
 peevish and uncomfortable on the day after 
 Christmas, and the days after birthdays and all 
 high family feasts, when people indicate their 
 affection and felicity by eating too many sweets.
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT, 81 
 
 Every day Franzl rose at half-past four, and 
 took his milk to the city, walking up and down 
 hill two hours or more, those beautiful, fresh, 
 spring mornings, and making his rounds punctu- 
 ally. The three market-days he remained all day 
 in Wynburg, returning usually with Leni toward 
 evening. On other days he went directly back to 
 Waldheim and worked on the farm or in the vine- 
 yards weeding, digging, mending walls, feeding 
 cattle and pigs and hens wherever, in short, he 
 could be made useful. As it never occurred to 
 him that anyone was stronger or abler than he 
 humility not being his chief virtue he was often 
 laughed at for attempting the impossible, but his 
 willingness and zeal won respect even from the 
 older farm-laborers, and Lutz, who never praised 
 or seemed satisfied with anybody's efforts, secretly 
 felicitated himself upon his shrewdness in select- 
 ing the little Tyrolean's muscle and staying-power 
 from all the young flesh at the Ravensburg mar- 
 ket. 
 
 Franzl soon learned a fine control of his milk- 
 cart, and steered it coolly at a breakneck pace 
 down the steepest roads. When, in the morning 
 or evening twilight, twenty or thirty boys by 
 chance appeared simultaneously on the same hill,
 
 82 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 shouting and hooting and careering like demons, 
 rattling and running their carts like mad, they 
 seemed a wild horde of outer barbarians coming 
 with hideous machines of destruction to invade a 
 peaceful land rather than simple rustics minister- 
 ing to innocent domestic needs. Among them all 
 no one yelled in a more demoniac fashion, none 
 drove his chariot with more apparent recklessness, 
 more real ability and aplomb, than Franzl. 
 
 He felt a peculiar sense of ownership in the 
 houses on his circuit, and every tale which Leni 
 told him that first morning remained sharp and 
 clear in his mind. " This is the house where the 
 pale man works hard and the woman goes to par- 
 ties all night and takes her coffee in bed at noon." 
 "This is the house where nothing particular 
 happens." "This is where everybody is always 
 OD horseback." " Here is the cross cook." " This 
 is where they always try to get the milk a penny 
 cheaper." "In this house the two kind old ladies 
 want to know everything and are always so sur- 
 prised and ' Oh ' and ' Ah ' till one can hardly get 
 away." " This is where there's a nice fat baby, 
 bigger than Loisl, and not so puckery," and it 
 would have been a shock to the nurse's nerves, 
 had she suspected that the rather dirty little milk-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 83 
 
 boy, who looked up so curiously at the child in 
 her arms, was thinking how much he would like to 
 see its toes. 
 
 Best of all he enjoyed going to the Normann's 
 beautiful home, and to Herr Arno's room under the 
 roof. The young man was handsome and strong, 
 kind and merry, and would indeed have been 
 altogether perfect in Franzl's eyes if it were not 
 for the queer and puzzling words, which had a pe- 
 culiar effect upon the child and made him uncom- 
 fortable and restive. In his new atmosphere he 
 was indeed roused necessarily to a certain sur- 
 prised consideration of language, since at every 
 step he was confronted with differences between 
 his Tyrolean speech and the harsher Suabian dia- 
 lect and his peculiarities of accent and phrase in- 
 duced much free comment and laughter. Still it 
 was easy enough to learn to adjust his language to 
 his surroundings, and above all to find out what 
 working-people meant. Often Herr Heinrich, a 
 friend of Herr Arno, was there, and then the words 
 were awful ; but they caused Franzl no lasting 
 distress unless addressed to him. One morning 
 Arno, chatting with his friend, happened to call 
 the beautiful rosy boy pouring milk into the 
 cracked pitcher a Ganymede, whereupon Franzl
 
 84 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 ran off brusquely, feeling unhappy and desper- 
 ate. 
 
 " Oh, I wish he wouldn't," he thought. " I'd 
 rather he would call me ' Brat ' and be done with 
 it. When he smiles and looks so pleasant, and 
 I'm not expecting anything in particular, and he 
 fires one of those awful names at me, I feel as if 
 I should burst." 
 
 "What does Ganymede mean?" he asked Leni 
 that night. 
 
 She was exceedingly busy. 
 
 " Oh, Franzl, don't be tiresome," she returned. 
 "How should I know? It's Herr Arno's non- 
 sense again, isn't it ? What on earth does it mat- 
 ter?" 
 
 " But do you know ? " the boy persisted. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Does Karl know?" 
 
 " No, he doesn't. He's got something better to 
 do." 
 
 " Does your father know ? " 
 
 "Not he." 
 
 " Does Andreas Klumpp know ? " 
 
 " Of course not." 
 
 "Well, then, who does know? " 
 
 " Why, people like Herr Arno, to be sure. No-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 85 
 
 body who has to work bothers about words. But 
 in the school they must know, Franzl." 
 
 "No, they don't. I've been to school myself, 
 and I never heard any such talk." 
 
 She wondered at his dreary manner, and said, 
 kindly: 
 
 " I wouldn't trouble my head about it. It has 
 nothing to do with us or with work. It goes in 
 one ear and out the other when I hear it. I'd for- 
 get if I were you." 
 
 " I can't," he replied, gloomily. " I try to, but 
 I remember every word. There's an awful lot 
 of them now. Seventeen from ' Phyllis ' ' in 
 spe ' ' faun ' to ' Ganymede.' That's the worst 
 yet." 
 
 By dint of much reflection it gradually became 
 clear to him that there were more than two kinds 
 of people in the world. Between rich and poor he 
 perceived differences unsuspected in the Venter 
 Thai; not, however, vast differences when both 
 classes worked. Christian Lutz was rich, and he, 
 Franzl, was poor ; but as he was going to be rich 
 by and by, and as Lutz worked as hard as any of 
 his farm-hands, the distinction did not seem like a 
 yawning chasm between them. Between people 
 who worked and people who didn't there was a
 
 86 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 more amazing difference, Franzl concluded, and 
 speculated much upon it ; the lady who never got 
 up in the morning, for instance, and the family 
 who were always in the saddle surely they were 
 rich, yet not like rich Christian Lutz. He saw 
 this plainly and it puzzled him. He had been 
 categorically taught that laziness was a sin, also 
 that people who didn't work must sooner or later 
 starve. Among his milk customers he discovered 
 many who neither worked nor starved, and who 
 did not appear to regard themselves as sinners. 
 But clearest of all grew his new conviction that 
 there was still another difference between people, 
 the great mysterious one of ivords, for he began 
 to suspect that Hen* Arno had no monopoly of 
 them. Franzl had positively ascertained that none 
 in his immediate circle knew or cared about the 
 hidden meaning of Theobald's language. Then 
 who did know and care ? Herr Heinrich for one. 
 The people on the road talked of prices. Coming 
 and going from market, it was always how much 
 things cost. The men in the village, too, talked of 
 either prices or crops. Why didn't people all talk 
 alike ? If Herr Amo would fling queer words at 
 him, angrily, they wouldn't occupy him an instant. 
 He knew what to do and how to feel when he was
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 87 
 
 insulted. But the kind voice and smile were what 
 made him wretched, and caused the mysterious 
 talk to mercilessly haunt and perplex him. Some 
 days Herr Arno said nothing incomprehensible, and 
 the child breathed freer, for his list was long and 
 every new word caused him fresh aggravation. He 
 ha,d a way of muttering rhythmically to the ac- 
 companiment of a creaking wheel, and many a mile 
 he tramped saying his words, like a witch's charm 
 or some ancient chant, with never a mistake ; and 
 it is a pity some great philologist did not hear the 
 boy ; for while the scholar would not have had the 
 faintest inkling of the truth, and could not, with 
 Franzl's arbitrary division of syllables to make 
 them fit the cart-accompaniment have distin- 
 guished the words, he would have discovered in 
 the innocent prattle the remains of some primi- 
 tive folk-song, with familiar Aryan roots, upon 
 the strength of which he would have promulgated 
 highly erudite theories, to his enduring satisfac- 
 tion and renown and the envy of his colleagues. 
 
 Many important things occupied Franzl's alert 
 mind. The birds in the beautiful woods through 
 which he passed twice a day a pond where 
 there was a prosperous commonwealth of frogs, 
 lizards on the vineyard - walls, all the orchards
 
 88 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 and fields of grain, all the people, all the horses 
 and dogs. There was always enough to think of, 
 both on the long country road and down in the 
 busy city. Indeed he never felt that he had got 
 his thinking half done, and he wished he did not 
 fall asleep the instant he closed his eyes at night, 
 for if he could only have stayed awake a while, 
 he might have gotten rid of some odds and ends 
 of thought which he never quite knew what to do 
 with. 
 
 The Normanns were a daily source of pleasure, 
 excitement, and wrath to him. The pleasure and 
 excitement began with the sight of the major in 
 a splendid uniform, who usually rode out of his 
 court-yard as Franzl and his cart came in. The 
 boy would pull off his cap, the major responded 
 with a fine salute and a smile. Wrath followed 
 speedily. Kurt, for no reason in particular, but 
 merely because he had happened to begin the 
 acquaintance with hostilities perhaps, too, from 
 contrariness, since his sisters praised the little 
 milk-boy lost no opportunity to make himself 
 odious to Franzl, who remembered every offence 
 as faithfully as Herr Amo's words, and stored them 
 away against the day of reckoning. Nanni, the 
 cook, was a kind, motherly soul, whom experience
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 89 
 
 had taught that boys can always eat, even if they 
 are fed upon the fat of the land ; also, that a milk- 
 boy is not apt to be pampered, no matter how 
 rosy and bright he looks. Being a privileged per- 
 son in the Normann household, she put aside many 
 good things for Franzl. The pretty young lady, 
 Fraulein Doris, he seldom saw unless the children 
 were quarrelling worse than usual. Fraulein 
 Hildegard frequently honored him with her pres- 
 ence, for she was a lively young person who made 
 it a point to appear wherever anything was going 
 on. At this time of the morning very little was 
 going on except the kitchen. Hildegard was curi- 
 ous as a magpie, and liked to see everybody who 
 came, whether by the visitors' or servants' en- 
 trance. As she was also kind, there was all the 
 more reason why she should pirouette into the 
 kitchen and keep a restraining sisterly eye on Kurt, 
 who was habitually hateful to that nice little boy. 
 
 Hopping, twirling, standing on one leg like a 
 stork, she seemed to regard herself as a theatre 
 and enjoy her own performances hugely. She 
 sang her most ordinary requests, and always had 
 a leaf or twig in her hand or mouth. Franzl ad- 
 mired her vastly. 
 
 One day s^he said to him :
 
 90 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Little boy " she always called him little boy, 
 although he was bigger than she "don't you 
 want to bring me some pussy-willows? I saw 
 some yesterday when we were driving, and mamma 
 wouldn't stop to let me get them. They are on 
 the bank by the little bridge where you come 
 every day." 
 
 He agreed gladly, and she told him he was the 
 nicest little boy she ever saw. 
 
 He brought her a great bunch of catkins the 
 very next morning. Hildegard was delighted. He 
 did not see Kurt, and Nanni gave him a generous 
 slice of cake, with plums in it, for which three 
 reasons he left the house in high spirits. But 
 alas ! the innocent catkins, like Beauty's rose, were 
 destined to make mischief. Herr Arno gave him 
 no trouble that day. Toward noon he was on 
 his homeward journey, whistling and singing in a 
 contented frame of mind. As the sun was hot on 
 the long hill, he stopped an instant in the shade 
 of the little park in front of the Normanns' house 
 listening to the cool plash of the fountain, mildly 
 regarding the big brown woman, and wondering 
 why they had put up those four awfully queer 
 things half woman and half cat on the terrace 
 by the fountain, and if there were really cat-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 91 
 
 women or women-cats, with that queer stare and 
 their paws stretched out. Suddenly Kurt, carry- 
 ing some books with a strap, came up the wind- 
 ing walk through the shrubbery to the open 
 lawn where Franzl stood with his cart. Now 
 Kurt was in the worst possible humor. His 
 father had promised him a horse if in a certain 
 examination he should be No. 1 in Latin and 
 mathematics. He had worked hard and felt con- 
 fident of success. Whether he had been too ex- 
 cited or too sure he did not know, but to his over- 
 whelming disgust and irritation two fellows, who 
 usually stood below him, had passed in better pa- 
 pers, and although first in Latin, he found himself 
 third in mathematics ; an honorable enough place 
 in a class of forty, but he knew his father, and that 
 there would be no horse for Kurt Normann this 
 time. He had bragged of the horse far and wide. 
 That was the trouble. Friends as well as enemies 
 had not refrained from pointed allusions to this 
 famous steed, and Kurt, angry, mortified, and 
 ready to vent his spleen on the first-comer, came 
 slowly home from his failure. 
 
 Franzl, from habit, scowled fiercely at the ap- 
 proaching foe. Kurt stopped, and all his rage 
 against himself, his teachers, his comrades, the
 
 92 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 world, and fate, seemed to concentrate itself in a 
 desire to quarrel with this insolent milk-boy stand- 
 ing motionless by his cart. 
 
 "Here, you dirty little beggar," Kurt began, 
 with no plan of attack whatever, but conscious of 
 vague and vast belligerent intentions, "what do 
 you mean by by by by bringing catkins to 
 my sister ? " he concluded with sudden inspiration. 
 
 Here was Franzl's longed-for opportunity, but 
 there was the milk-cart. It had grown to be sec- 
 ond nature to take care of the insignia of his pro- 
 fession, and Leni's precepts had sunk deep with- 
 in him. One hand still on the pole, he stood 
 poised ready to spring. 
 
 " You keep your weeds for your own dirty little 
 sister," Kurt sneered, as a purely random shot, 
 " and let mine alone. If I see any more of them 
 in my house I'll switch you with them." 
 
 At this moment a young man who was sitting on 
 a bench with his back turned came toward them. 
 
 " I say, Kurt," he began 
 
 But before he could finish, Franzl had swung 
 the cart round, thrust the pole into Herr Arno's 
 hand, and flung himself with all his strength upon 
 the boy who had insulted his sister. 
 
 Arno, recovering from his surprise, gravely ac-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 93 
 
 cepted the trust, sat down on a stone moulding, 
 and let the boys fight. It occurred to him that 
 a sound thrashing might be a desirable sanitary 
 measure for Kurt Normann, and something that 
 had failed for some time. There was also a cer- 
 tain humorous satisfaction in the consciousness 
 that Kurt's mamma, who systematically spoiled 
 him and prevented him from being the good fel- 
 low he might otherwise become, was in the house, 
 whose windows looked over garden -walls and 
 shrubbery upon the field of battle where her 
 high-born darling was about to be thrashed by a 
 milk-boy. For Arno had not the faintest doubt 
 as to the result of the contest. Kurt was going 
 to be unmercifully beaten. 
 
 The boys were evenly matched as to size. Kurt 
 was the older, and well-trained in gymnastic exer- 
 cises ; but no gymnasium three times a week could 
 do for a boy what the mountains and hard, con- 
 stant, open-air work had done for Franzl. More- 
 over, he was by far the angrier of the two, and 
 this was half the battle. "His strength was as 
 the strength of ten," not "because his heart was 
 pure," but because he was so very "mad," while 
 Kurt was already more than half -ashamed of him- 
 self.
 
 94 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 Arno observed that Franzl, instead of spending 
 his force at once in his first furious attack, seemed 
 to have endless reserve-power. He showed no 
 weariness, but grew fiercer and stronger, not how- 
 ever from contact with mother earth; for while 
 Kurt was frequently down, gaining dirt but no 
 strength, Franzl remained firm on his feet. Kurt 
 fought well and bravely, but Arno, silently watch- 
 ing them, thought best to interfere. 
 
 " There, that's enough for to-day, boys. Stop, 
 Franzl. Hold up, I say." But Franzl did not or 
 would not hear or stop until forcibly removed. 
 
 " Kurt, you'll have to admit you're well thrashed." 
 
 Kurt said nothing. There was blood on his 
 face, a button had cut his lip, his eye was puffing 
 fast, his coat was torn, his watch and chain lay on 
 the ground, his wrist was lame, his leg felt queer, 
 and his head ached. 
 
 "You acknowledge yourself fairly beaten, do 
 you ? " Arno repeated. 
 
 " Yes," said the boy, faintly, feeling dizzy and 
 dropping upon a bench. 
 
 Franzl stood panting, glowing, triumphant, his 
 feet still braced, his hands on his hips, his eyes 
 contemplating that silver watch and chain lying 
 low in the dust.
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 95 
 
 " Go in and ask Nanni to look after you, Kurt. 
 I shall have to tell you that I think you deserved 
 it. I heard what you said to him. That is why I 
 didn't interfere. Now it's none of my business 
 perhaps, but what has he ever done to you ? " 
 
 " Nothing," said Kurt, frankly enough. 
 
 "Then what under heaven induced you to try to 
 bully him in that fashion? " Arno demanded with 
 considerable disgust. 
 
 "I was red-hot mad about something else," Kurt 
 returned, with a feeble grin that was very one- 
 sided on account of the aldermanic proportions his 
 face was rapidly assuming. 
 
 " Your examination ? " Arno asked, quickly. 
 
 Kurt nodded. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! " exclaimed the young man, signifi- 
 cantly. " And you, Franzl, what have you against 
 Kurt?" 
 
 "I hate him," Franzl returned with cheerful 
 promptness, " and he said something nasty about 
 my family." 
 
 "Yes, I heard it. I'm not a great friend of 
 fighting, but from your point of view I don't see 
 how you could have declined with dignity after 
 that provocation. Come here and let me congrat- 
 ulate you. My sympathies are entirely with you."
 
 96 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 He held out his hand and Franzl, proud and radi- 
 ant, shook hands with him. 
 
 " But you are satisfied now, Franzl? You don't 
 thirst for any more blood ? " 
 
 " If he lets me alone I'll let him," the boy re- 
 marked, succinctly. 
 
 " You hear, Kurt, do you ? " and Arno stooped 
 to pick up a paper book which had fallen from 
 the schoolboy's strap. Brushing the dust from a 
 page, which Franzl saw was covered with queer, 
 curly writing, the young man remarked: "You'll 
 have to recopy this Greek. It is too dirty to hand 
 in. I don't like to preach when you are in that 
 plight, Kurt ; but, upon my word, I thought you 
 were more of a gentleman. If you don't choose to 
 remember that ' Noblesse oblige ' is your Normann 
 device, it is useless for me to remind you, I sup- 
 pose. But as an old friend of the family permit 
 me to say that if honor doesn't restrain you, pru- 
 dence should, for this young Berserker can slay 
 you without over-exerting himself. Now shake 
 hands, boys." 
 
 " I don't care anything about the slaying," Kurt 
 returned quickly, hobbling forward on his lame 
 foot and with his lame hand extended. "Here, 
 Franzl, it's all right. You can bring anything you
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 97 
 
 like to Hildegard. I only said that because I was 
 in no end of a temper. I've always been teazing 
 him, you know," turning to Arno, " and I do care 
 about ' noblesse oblige.' " 
 
 But what was the matter with Franzl ? He was 
 turning his cart as fast as possible, and all the joy 
 of victory had vanished from his face. It seemed 
 to Arno that Kurt, after all, was behaving gal- 
 lantly, since it is always easier for the victor to 
 forgive than the vanquished. What, then, had 
 seized the conqueror's bright spirit ? Why was he 
 slinking off in this fashion, ignoring Kurt's gen- 
 erously proffered hand. He, Franzl, who always 
 seemed so ardent and warm-hearted ? 
 
 "Franzl," Arno called, "don't go. Shake hands 
 with Kurt first, to show there's no ill-will." 
 
 "Wait a minute, Franzl," Kurt called, limping a 
 few steps after him. 
 
 But Franzl paid no heed. He went as fast as 
 he could stride from the scene of his triumph and 
 his bitter disappointment. 
 
 " Eighteen nineteen," he was saying to himself 
 in utter hopelessness. "'Berserker' and 'bles- 
 bleege,' and Kurt knows what they mean and 
 says, ' blesbleege ' himself ! "
 
 VI. 
 
 AENO THEOBALD, although in reality a happy, 
 healthy, and fortunate youth, had in his own opin- 
 ion his share of work, care, trouble, and uncertainty 
 of a peculiarly absorbing and delicate nature, and 
 therefore thought little of the juvenile fight in 
 which he had acted as umpire, and which was a 
 crisis in Franzl's history. But when the little 
 milk-boy appeared the next morning, shy, grave, 
 and more hurried than usual, Arno remembered 
 the child's abrupt departure, and was led to instil 
 into his rustic mind some idea of the etiquette 
 of the duel, even of the crude and primitive duel 
 with fists. 
 
 " How are you, Franzl? No bones broken, I see. 
 By the way, why did you go off so quickly ? Why 
 wouldn't you shake hands with Kurt ? " 
 
 As Franzl said nothing, Arno concluded that he 
 was still sullen and unforgiving, which seemed 
 natural enough on the part of a poor boy whom 
 Kurt Normann had persistently insulted. Arno
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 99 
 
 liked boys, and had a special interest in boys of 
 Franzl's condition, was used to them, and succeeded 
 ordinarily in understanding them tolerably well. 
 
 "Now Franzl," the young man went on, good- 
 humoredly, " you really ought to have shaken 
 hands with him. That's the thing to do. For in- 
 stance, two men come to fight with swords or pis- 
 tols. There is some deadly wrong, or ought to be, 
 if they get as far as that. Well, suppose they are 
 snorting fire and brimstone. They slash or shoot. 
 They draw blood. We won't make it fatal this 
 time. We'll only let them be scratched a bit like 
 Kurt yesterday. Then they shake hands. The 
 witnesses shake hands. Everybody shakes hands." 
 
 Franzl, interested in spite of himself in this tale 
 of swords and pistols, had forgotten his grievances 
 and drawn near the table, smiling his winning, 
 trustful smile. 
 
 " And when you and I consider it in cold blood, 
 it is the stupidest thing in life, because if it is 
 possible for them ever in God's world to be suffi- 
 ciently reconciled to grasp each other's hands, then 
 it would be wise to anticipate the action of time 
 upon their enmity and shake hands in the first 
 place. People don't often hate as hard as they 
 imagine they do. But, Franzl, this is how a man
 
 100 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 talks when he is not angry, and when he's angry 
 his blood boils as yours did yesterday, and he 
 doesn't think any more. Then he's a beast. I'm 
 sorry to say I've been one a few times in my life. 
 All the same, fighting is as stupid as it is wicked. 
 Remember I don't blame you at all for fighting 
 Kurt. When you are older I hope you will think 
 differently, but at your age and after what you had 
 borne I don't see what else you could have done, 
 and, since you had to do it, I'm glad you did it so 
 well. But you ought to have shaken hands with 
 him and buried the hatchet." 
 
 "What hatchet?" 
 
 Arno smiled. 
 
 " I mean you ought to have been satisfied with 
 the punishment you gave him. You don't hate 
 him I am sure." 
 
 " Yes, I do," Franzl asserted, roundly. 
 
 Arno considered an instant. 
 
 " Franzl, I don't know that you quite understand 
 how things were yesterday. Of course Kurt was 
 in the wrong. I can't say that too decidedly. I 
 am glad on several accounts that he got for once 
 what he deserved. He can make himself as in- 
 sufferably disagreeable as any boy I ever saw. But 
 he's not a bad fellow at heart. He lost a prize
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 101 
 
 yesterday, and the praise, which is sweet to him, 
 and a horse, which he felt sure he would have for 
 his own, and he was rather well pounded and bat- 
 tered, and aching in every bone, yet he forgave you 
 outright for thrashing him. That's like Kurt. 
 He will act like an overbearing insolent cur for 
 weeks, then he turns round and surprises you with 
 something so uncommonly sweet-tempered and 
 generous that you can't help admiring him." 
 
 Franzl was wholly unmoved by his praise of the 
 enemy, untouched by the faintest sympathy for or 
 appreciation of Kurt's conduct; absorbed in his 
 own thoughts the boy stared unceasingly at Arno. 
 
 " Talk about the ingenuousness of childhood ! " 
 he reflected. " Only children and great diplo- 
 mates know how to be inscrutable." 
 
 Meanwhile Franzl was making a grand resolve. 
 He had nearly determined to ask about the words 
 that tormented him. Pride, shyness, a stubborn 
 savage reserve had always restrained him. He lit- 
 erally did not know how to express the confused 
 thoughts and feelings which gave him no rest. It 
 was not simply asking the meaning of one word or 
 many words. It was all his thinking, coming and 
 going on the* road. It was all that he did not 
 understand in the lives of people about him, new
 
 102 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 things belonging to his new surroundings, and of 
 which he had never thought in Heilig Kreuz. It 
 was the differences the work why people didn't 
 talk alike, and think alike ; the whole world was 
 one great Why ? to him, and he longed to launch 
 it all on Arno. But he did not know how to be- 
 gin. There were the words and Kurt Kurt most 
 of all since yesterday, when he had looked up with 
 his face awry and dirty and bleeding, and said so 
 resolutely : " And I do care about ' blesbleege ' " 
 
 Why did he care so much about a " blesbleege? " 
 What was a " blesbleege " anyhow ? 
 
 Franzl had never before felt so strong an impulse 
 to confide in Arno. The child of late, after listen- 
 ing suspiciously to the young man, hurried away as 
 fast as possible, fearing that he might at any mo- 
 ment let fall one of those maddening words. To- 
 day, indeed, he used language which Franzl did 
 not comprehend in detail, and long " grown-up " 
 phrases, but the drift of the talk the boy followed 
 without difficulty, and there was nothing offen- 
 sively personal in it no calling names. His self- 
 esteem was therefore not wounded, and Arno's 
 manner was most kind and reassuring. 
 
 He concluded his little guest was still nursing 
 wrath against Kurt. What but resentment could
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 103 
 
 such persistent silence mean? Children were 
 rarely fiery and sullen too. After all, what could 
 one expect of the poor little soul ? What chance 
 had he ever had ? 
 
 Franzl was looking earnestly at an open book 
 near him. It had queer, curly letters like Kurt's 
 book yesterday. "Greek," Herr Arno had said. 
 It flashed upon him those strange words might 
 belong to such letters. Perhaps it was all Greek. 
 That didn't sound very bad. Something bright 
 and hopeful rose in his heart. Why couldn't he 
 learn the letters. Then he would know the words 
 like Herr Arno and Kurt " blesbleege " and all 
 of them. He could thrash Kurt. Then he could 
 do anything Kurt could, and beat him too. He 
 smiled, caught his breath in his excitement and 
 opened his lips to speak at last. 
 
 But Arno, feeling that he had waited long 
 enough for the boy's stubborn mood to yield, 
 turned away. 
 
 " You think it over, little man," he said, kindly, 
 going to his bookshelves. "Perhaps you'll feel 
 different. A fight one can't always avoid, but 
 no one need be revengeful. That's no good. 
 After you have cooled down we'll discuss the 
 ethics of it again."
 
 104 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Twenty ! " Franzl muttered mechanically, the 
 old, discouraged, heavy feeling settling down upon 
 his new hopes. Turning on his heel, he was gone 
 before Arno could speak. 
 
 " What an odd little fellow ! " he thought. " Evi- 
 dently his High-Mightiness Kurt will have to 
 look out for himself." 
 
 " Ethics, ethics oh, dear oh dear me ethics, 
 twenty twenty, ethics ! " and off went poor Franzl, 
 pursued by words as by furies. 
 
 It happened that he had an errand to do for Leni 
 that day after he had made his rounds. The streets 
 did not attract him as usual. His free and sunny 
 spirit had abandoned him. Returning with his 
 empty basket, he turned down a street which was 
 new to him, and saw many finely dressed people 
 entering the wide portals of a building that had 
 no windows except in the roof. In spite of his 
 moroseness this roused his curiosity. How did 
 they climb up to look out the windows he won- 
 dered. It was silly to put them up there. The 
 windows in his house should be where they be- 
 
 The little boy with his basket hung about the 
 entrance and saw the people come and go. Car- 
 riages with beautiful horses and coachmen in
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 105 
 
 livery were waiting. A lady with a bright red 
 gown passed in. Presently he saw the red gown 
 walk out. Then they must go in to see some- 
 thing. How he wished he knew what. How he 
 wished he could see it. Once he saw a fat woman 
 and a two-headed calf in a tent. 
 
 He drew nearer and peered in. There was a 
 round room, three little marble steps, a fountain 
 with large-leaved plants, and in the middle a little 
 naked gold boy with wings and a bow and arrow. 
 There were doors hung with red curtains. The 
 people went through the door at the right under 
 the looped-up red curtain. What if he should go 
 in too ? Nobody at the moment was near. He 
 stepped cautiously within the marble room. Only 
 the little gold boy was there. There was a window 
 like the ticket-office at the railway station, but no 
 face behind it and no voice to tell rough boys with 
 baskets to be off. Slowly, timidly, walking very 
 softly, he approached the curtain, beyond which he 
 heard the hum of many voices. He did not need 
 to go far. From the threshold he saw. 
 
 A great procession was bearing down upon him. 
 Far, far back, as far as he could see, they were 
 coming on through the narrow streets, hundreds of 
 them, and straight toward him. They had white,
 
 106 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 strange faces, and wild eyes, and all of them were 
 stripped to the waist, and their backs were bleed- 
 ing, and they had little whips with many lashes in 
 their hands, and they were lashing their bare white 
 backs until they bled. They were thin and hungry 
 men and boys. They earned banners and an out- 
 stretched child, all skin and bone. A market-girl, 
 with a cart like his, was trying to get out of the 
 way. There was a great church and priests every- 
 where, priests in the very front, and an awful one 
 the first of all, marching on with his arm pointing 
 at Franzl, calling to him fiercely, wanting some- 
 thing of him, with fierce eyes fixed on his. 
 
 Franzl was never so frightened in his life. He 
 shrank behind the curtain trying to hide from the 
 awful priest in front who wanted him. After a 
 moment he ventured out again, and this time saw 
 a broad gold picture-frame and groups of ladies 
 and gentlemen smiling and talking together. 
 
 He was ashamed that he had thought it real. Yet 
 it frightened him still, and the free figures in front 
 stood out as if he could run behind them. What 
 did that dark awful man want ? What did it all 
 mean ? Why did they whip their own backs until 
 they bled? Why did they march down straight 
 upon everybody and have strange, wild eyes ?
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 107 
 
 Gradually his glance fell upon the men and 
 women outside the picture frame. What were 
 they saying about it ? Why did they laugh and 
 turn away? What was there to laugh at? He 
 hugged his basket tighter under his arm and shrank 
 against the wall as some people passed out, glanc- 
 ing at him with a smile which he did not like. 
 
 He looked again. Groups had dispersed and 
 formed anew. There was more room in front of 
 the picture. Two ladies stood there with a boy. 
 He wore yellow kid gloves and a sky-blue silk 
 handkerchief over his left eye. It was Kurt. He 
 smiled quite unconcerned, as if the backs were not 
 bleeding, the faces white and strange, the priest 
 with the outstretched arm terrible. Kurt pointed 
 at something with a wise air, as if he knew all about 
 it. His mother and Doris listened and smiled. 
 They moved, they were coming toward the door. 
 
 Franzl fled with hate in his heart.
 
 vn. 
 
 THE pale hungry men with their strange eyes 
 and half-naked bodies haunted Franzl from that 
 day. He dreamed of them, he saw the great white 
 procession bearing down upon him whenever he 
 closed his eyes. That foremost priest beckoned 
 with imperious gesture from any dusky corner of 
 the barn, advanced from dim woods in the twilight, 
 stood out commandingly on the rolling heath, and 
 faded in purple mists over the distant hills. But 
 the child did not ask Leni what the picture meant. 
 He often looked at her wistfully and was silent. 
 For he had learned that her world was not the 
 world of the others of Arno and Doris and Kurt. 
 They cared for things which did not exist for Leni. 
 Their language had for her no meaning and no 
 worth. His new thoughts made him less sunny 
 and gave him no peace ; but neither they nor the 
 words and the procession would let him go. Leni 
 thought he was growing old fast, and feeling his 
 long questioning gaze fixed upon her, asked him 
 one day if he was not well.
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 109 
 
 She herself began to look pale and ill. Some- 
 times in the morning her eyes were red. Her 
 grave, firm face lost its repose, grew anxious and 
 nervous. There were market days when she did 
 not go to the city. Franzl heard the women say 
 Lutz was making things hot for her. Often the 
 father and daughter talked together after the day's 
 work was done, which was something quite new, 
 and nothing made Leni seem so tired as a talk 
 with her father. 
 
 Franzl was strongly attached to her. Next to his 
 little bundle of family at home, he loved her better 
 than anyone on earth, tramped contentedly by her 
 side going to market, missed her when long away, 
 and was glad to come back to her quiet familiar 
 face. He did not like to see her look so hollow- 
 eyed. His mother had looked so, too. Some- 
 times he did not know whom he hated worse, Kurt 
 von Normann or Christian Lutz. 
 
 When he first came to Waldheim he liked the 
 city better. Wynburg was full of excitement and 
 fascination. He approached every house on his 
 rounds with interest and curiosity, and something 
 pleasant almost always happened. The noise and 
 sights of the streets were wonderful, he had much 
 to learn, was zealous and ambitious. But now that
 
 110 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 he had mastered his duties, thanks to Leni's good 
 training ; now that he had grown accustomed to the 
 city, and the customers were used to his bright 
 eager face, and the newness of all things had worn 
 off; and most especially since he had become con- 
 scious and uneasy on account of his ignorance 
 sensitive, resentful, yet helpless his instinct was 
 to stay in his own world, where he understood 
 what was going on, where people, even old people 
 like Lutz and Klumpp talked more or less as he 
 did; where young men did not, in the kindest 
 fashion, make him miserable with words beyond 
 his ken ; and where no dandy-boys whom he could 
 thrash stood, waving yellow kid gloves, before a 
 wonderful picture as full of moving men as the 
 crowded market, and grinned and looked the other 
 way, and talked carelessly as if it was not alive 
 and terrible. 
 
 So Franzl had his peculiar reasons for liking 
 Waldheim and the farm better than Wynburg. 
 He drew more within his shell each day ; grew 
 business-like and taciturn on his rounds, even 
 with kind Nanni. Arno was out of town for a few 
 weeks. His absence gave Franzl incredible relief, 
 although he missed him too. If the young man 
 unwittingly tortured the child, Franzl liked him
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. Ill 
 
 nevertheless, and admired him vastly. The boy's 
 warmly affectionate heart clung more than he 
 knew to the people who were good to him, and 
 who were unconsciously shaping his life ; Fraulein 
 Doris, who spoke so sweetly ; little Fraulein Hilde- 
 gard, who was so kind, and so very astonishing 
 with all her whims and capers. Nearly every 
 morning he would secretly slip a little bunch of 
 wild flowers for her behind a milk-pan or pitcher, 
 to be discovered by Nanni after he was gone. As 
 he was always troubled or irritated when the 
 slightest notice was taken of it, Nanni learned to 
 look the other way when he hid it, and not to 
 thank him. He liked them all. He thought 
 much of them all. But he knew now that they 
 were "different," and therefore he would rather 
 work all day as hard as he could on the farm than 
 come down to the city among them, their queer 
 words and gentle ways. They only gave him 
 more thoughts, and it seemed to him that he al- 
 ready had more than he could carry. It was bet- 
 ter in the fields with the men ; it was best with Leni. 
 One Sunday evening Lutz had gone to the vil- 
 lage inn to smoke his pipe and drink his beer with 
 Andreas Klumpp and the worthies who congre- 
 gated in those murky precincts. Leni and Franzl
 
 112 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 sat at the door of the isolated farm-house which 
 stood far back from the main-road. It was a still 
 warm August night. Over the fields floated now 
 and then echoes of laughter and song, voices of 
 men and girls returning noisily from their rollick- 
 ing Sunday outing in some neighboring village 
 approaching, passing on, leaving everything quiet 
 as before. All was silent near the two except for 
 the deep comfortable breathing of the great yellow 
 Leonberger asleep at FranzTs feet. The young 
 girl in the doorway, her elbows on her knees, her 
 chin in her hands, stared unseeing, into the deep- 
 ening shadows under the linden-tree. Franzl was 
 wondering how long Herr Arno and the Normanns 
 and many other customers would be away. Half 
 of his houses were closed, and the market was so 
 dull that he was scarcely needed down there. 
 Where did the people go? Why did they go 
 away from their beautiful big houses ? When he 
 had one all his own he was going to stay in it. 
 Fraulein Hildegard said they went every summer 
 to the sea and played on the hard sand beach, and 
 she couldn't swim, but Kurt could. Franzl wished 
 he knew how it looked up there, but he could swim 
 without any sea, and better than Kurt von Nor- 
 mann. If he could get Kurt in the water, first
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 113 
 
 he'd duck his head and then he'd show him some 
 tricks. He hadn't had a swim since last summer, 
 and he loved it so ! He was the only fellow in 
 Heilig-Kreuz that could swim. There wasn't 
 much chance up there. But he was glad his fa- 
 ther was a swimmer and made him learn. Here 
 there was chance enough. Perhaps Leni would 
 let him go to the river some day, only it was so far, 
 and there was always so much to do. He got up 
 from the bench against the house, stretched him- 
 self and yawned audibly. 
 
 " I think I'U go to bed, Leni, I'm sleepy. We've 
 got to do the third field to-morrow," he said, with 
 his important and responsible air. 
 
 " Would you mind staying up a little later to- 
 night, Franzl ? " she returned, after some moments, 
 and timidly, not in her ordinary manner. 
 
 He was a little surprised, for she usually was 
 careful to send him off early ; in fact earlier than 
 he wished to go, but he answered promptly : 
 
 " Why, no. You see a fellow only goes to bed 
 because he doesn't know anything else to do. I 
 don't think much of bed anyhow." 
 
 He reseated himself with a swagger, and pres- 
 ently, as Leni said nothing, he employed himself 
 in stifling a series of deep-rooted yawns.
 
 114 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 Suddenly the big watch-dog rose and stood alert 
 and on duty listening, his nose pointed toward the 
 orchards. 
 
 " It is nothing, Wolf." Franzl told him. 
 
 "Keep stiU, little boy, I know better," Wolf 
 responded in his own fashion. 
 
 Leni put her hand on the dog's head, murmuring : 
 
 " It is a friend. Wolf won't bark." 
 
 " Do you hear anything, Leni ? " 
 
 " Not yet. He's too far ; but come Franzl, 
 come with me. Lie down, Wolf. Take care of the 
 house. No, you can't come. You stay here. You 
 know who it is." 
 
 Wolf stretched his muzzle along her arm and 
 reluctantly consented to remain. 
 
 " It's all very undignified," he protested ; " but 
 pray do as you like." 
 
 Franzl, wondering, followed Leni past the loom- 
 ing black barns and into the dark orchard. The 
 girl went swiftly and noiselessly on the turf, until 
 they were at some distance from the house. 
 
 " There, wait here," she said. " I'll go on a 
 little. I won't be long." 
 
 " Are you going to meet Karl ? " the boy asked 
 calmly. " Georg and Eosine used to meet in the 
 dark."
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 115 
 
 " Never mind them. Be good, Franzl. If you 
 hear any noise from the house, sing or whistle." 
 
 " Shall I whistle or shall I sing ? " 
 
 " Either. Both." 
 
 " Shall I sing 'The High Aim ' or ' The Tyro- 
 lean and His Child?'" 
 
 But Leni was gone. Franzl crept under an 
 apple-tree, where it was soft, still, and dark, and 
 there was a mound for a pillow. He concluded 
 to get some of his thinking done while waiting for 
 Leni. Years after, this summer night was vivid in 
 his remembrance, and he saw Leni's pale, pained 
 face stealing off like a shade among the black trees, 
 and life and his own heart taught him what it all 
 meant. But now he reached up and filled his 
 pockets with green, stony balls frustrating nat- 
 ure's beneficent intention to transform them into 
 dark red apples by October and diligently 
 gnawed them, stretched flat on his back. Fond 
 as he was of Leni, her griefs and her romance 
 troubled him &t the moment no more than if he 
 had been a heartless young cannibal. 
 
 He wondered idly what had happened to Pauli, 
 and did not believe Pauli could pull the milk-cart 
 better than he, even if Pauli was bigger. He 
 closed his eyes and saw the crowd at the child-
 
 116 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 market, and all the boys and girls crying : " Buy 
 me ! " grew tall and changed into the white, fierce 
 men in the picture and this was the last he knew 
 until he felt a hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "Franzl, Franzl, all Waldheim might come to 
 find me and you wouldn't hear ! " Leni was saying 
 in his drowsy ears. " Get up, Franzl ! " shaking 
 him. " Wolf is cleverer than you. He's awake in 
 an instant." 
 
 " I am perfectly awake," he declared, offended. 
 " I was only getting some thinking done, and then 
 I forgot a little." 
 
 She had spoken brightly and kindly. She 
 laughed at his explanation, took his hand and 
 hurried on till the sleepy child was nearly breath- 
 
 " How queer you are, Leni ! " 
 
 "Am I ? I'm a little happier. That is all" 
 
 " Well, I wish you wouldn't go so fast that I 
 stub all my toes. Can you see in the dark ? " 
 
 " Yes, to-night. Don't be cross. I know you 
 are tired and sleepy. We'll soon be at home. 
 Then if it weren't too late I'd tell you some- 
 thing, even if you are only a little boy." 
 
 "I am strong and large for my age," he re- 
 minded her.
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 117 
 
 " I know you are, and sensible." 
 
 Mollified, he went on cheerfully. 
 
 When they reached the house, Wolf came for- 
 ward a few slow steps to meet them, satisfied him- 
 self that they had returned intact from their fool- 
 ish expedition, and stretching himself, like a great 
 yellow lion, at Franzl's feet, contentedly resumed 
 his slumbers. 
 
 "We have been good friends, you and I, from 
 the first day, haven't we, Franzl?" she began, 
 hesitating slightly. 
 
 " Why, yes, Leni ; of course." 
 
 " Are you tired ? " 
 
 " Not now. Not a bit," he returned, brightly. 
 
 " Because it is quiet to-night. Perhaps I could 
 tell you things. Sometimes I feel as if my mouth 
 was sealed. Then I have no one to speak to. If 
 my mother had lived, it would be different." 
 
 " Oh, do grown people want their mothers too ? " 
 
 " Sometimes more than little boys do." 
 
 Franzl had never thought of that. 
 
 " I never wanted her more than now," Leni went 
 on, simply. " It is hard to hold out three years 
 against your own father. I don't like cheating 
 ways, Franzl. I haven't seen Karl to speak with 
 him since the first day you went with the milk.
 
 118 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 I have had to tell him something. Father is like 
 iron. He's at me all the time now. First he said 
 November. When I told him I'd run away first, 
 I'd never marry Andreas Klumpp, he said he'd 
 give me till February, and if I'm not ready and 
 willing then, he'll turn me out of doors. Father's 
 orderly. He has to do everything by the quarters 
 whether it's rents or cows or sheep, or marrying 
 me." 
 
 " I wouldn't marry old Andreas Klumpp either." 
 
 " It is the farm, Franzl, and I don't want mead- 
 ows or orchards or barns or cattle. I'd rather have 
 the smallest house, the smallest room with Karl." 
 
 " Why, yes, I should say so," Franzl assented, 
 cheerily. " I should too. He's young and pleas- 
 ant looking and hasn't got the palsy. And then 
 he'd be your family, wouldn't he ? " 
 
 "Yes; that is what we want," the girl said, 
 softly. " We've wanted it years." 
 
 "He'd be a great deal better kind of family, 
 than than anybody round here," Franzl remarked, 
 somewhat diplomatically. 
 
 " Karl has always been my family. He came to 
 work here like you, when he was no bigger than 
 you, and I was a little thing." 
 
 "Did he sell himself?"
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 119 
 
 " No ; lie was the child of people in Waldheim. 
 They died, and father took him to work for his 
 board." 
 
 " Did he get fifty marks ? " 
 
 " Not at first. He was always good to me. He 
 was here when my mother died. She loved him 
 like a son. Father never had such a worker. 
 There's nothing Karl can't do. Father can find no 
 fault with him except he's poor. But haven't we 
 enough ? And Karl so kind, and so industrious ! 
 It was three years ago father found out that we 
 liked each other. He was terribly angry and sent 
 Karl off that very night, and forbade me to speak 
 to him. But I did not promise I'd not speak to 
 him. It's all too old for you, Franzl." 
 
 " But I understand very well. There's nothing 
 at all hard to understand about liking and not lik- 
 ing. I could tell you some things that are hard ! " 
 
 " I've been useful to father. I was a young girl 
 when mother died. People thought he'd have to 
 have some woman here to look after things. But 
 I did everything just as mother used. He didn't 
 seem to miss her, the work went so well. And 
 ever since Karl had to go and I know how hard 
 father felt toward me, I worked still better, trying 
 to please him. It was about a year ago he made
 
 120 A BATTLE AND A DOT. 
 
 up his mind I should marry Andreas Klumpp, and 
 I've worked as I never worked before. In the 
 house, at the market, with the accounts, with the 
 milk and I've looked after everything, the cattle, 
 the market-garden, the men on the farm. Wher- 
 ever a sharp eye, a willing hand, and quick feet 
 could help, they have helped my father, and he has 
 profited by them, and he knows it. The women 
 may say I am proud and cold and stiff, but they 
 can't say I don't work. Nobody can." 
 
 "No they can't, Leni. You work like six." 
 " Well, Franzl, it doesn't do any good and I'm 
 tired not of work, but of the fight between father 
 and me. Whether we speak or not, the fight is al- 
 ways going on. No matter how hard and long 
 work is, it comes to an end some time, and you can 
 draw a deep breath and say : " That's done, thank 
 Heaven." But if it's inside of you, if it's two peo- 
 ple pulling in different directions under one roof, 
 and each is tough as the other, it is awful, it tires 
 you out soul and body. If I tell father Jenny's 
 giving less milk, we look in each other's eyes and 
 see Andreas Klumpp. If father tells me to ask a 
 penny more a pound for tomatoes, neither of us 
 can forget Andreas Klumpp." 
 
 " Confound old Klumpp ! " Franzl muttered.
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 121 
 
 " He's like a black shadow over everything. And 
 lately it is worse, much worse. Father is as hard 
 as a rock. He is determined to force me now. 
 When he was so silent and I was so silent month 
 after month, I used to wish he would speak. Now 
 he has begun to speak, I'd give my life if he'd be 
 silent again." 
 
 "It isn't at all like a family," Franzl said, 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 " It's bad enough." 
 
 " And if you had a little room with Karl, you'd 
 have a warm fire and a bright light and you'd 
 make pancakes big ones and a great many 
 wouldn't you ? And he would joke and laugh and 
 you'd be smiling and listening ? " 
 
 The boy's clear voice full of confidence and in- 
 terest was startlingly loud in the stillness. 
 
 "Hush, Franzl, you sound like a trumpet. 
 Don't shout that to all "Waldheim. But you may be 
 sure," she continued, with a happy little laugh at 
 his picture, '''I'd make what Karl liked, pancakes 
 or anything else : and if I can almost manage a 
 whole farm, year after year, when my heart is 
 heavy, it's reasonable to believe that I could make 
 one little room cosey and bright if I felt hopeful 
 and glad."
 
 122 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Then you must have him," Franzl declared, in 
 a tone of positive conviction. "Cheer up, Leni. 
 I'll help you." 
 
 Leni laughed again. Franzl was so absurd, like 
 a strutting little turkey-cock, sometimes; but he 
 was as good as gold, and no child was so sturdy 
 and faithful. 
 
 " You do help me," she said, affectionately. 
 "You have helped me from the day you came. 
 You see last year father was at me about Andreas 
 Klumpp, and in the winter we were both silent and 
 sullen. One day I remembered that he never did 
 anything for me. It wasn't often I had a wish ; 
 but if I had one, it didn't move him any more than 
 if I was one of the cows. It seemed to me if he 
 would do one single thing I asked, my chances 
 would be better in other ways ; but if I never was 
 consulted, if I always was ordered and driven like 
 the cattle and the farm-hands, why then he would 
 be so used to my dumbness it would be worse for 
 me in the thing I cared most for. So I made up 
 my mind I would try to have a voice in something. 
 Just then the Waldheim women were beginning to 
 talk. They can't talk enough about it." 
 
 " No, they can't. I hear them." 
 
 " I feel older too. I'd always gone on doing my
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 123 
 
 work and not thinking of anything else except Karl. 
 But now I wanted to be alone and to keep away 
 from the women. I knew father had the largest 
 farm except Klumpp's, and was able to hire all the 
 help he needed, so I thought when he was going 
 to Ravensburg I'd ask him to buy a boy for the 
 milk-cart. I talked quiet and reasonable. I said 
 he was a rich farmer and I his only daughter, and 
 I was too old to go with the milk. This was how I 
 tried to make him hear my voice, and he did. He 
 said nothing, but he bought you. I had a feeling 
 all the time that you would bring me good luck. 
 I felt kind to you before you came. I wanted you. 
 I remembered how pleasant it used to be when 
 mother was alive and Karl was a little boy and 
 took care of the cows. I thought a great deal 
 about you." 
 
 " Was he big and strong like me ? " 
 
 " I don't know that he was. I don't know that 
 anybody was ever so big and strong as you feel, 
 Franzl." After a moment she went on : " But now 
 it doesn't seem^to have helped, though he did what 
 I asked. And all my good work doesn't help. 
 Nothing touches him. Perhaps he bought you so 
 that somebody would understand the milk-cart and 
 the business after he'd married me to Klumpp.
 
 124 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 Perhaps he didn't really hear my voice. Perhaps 
 he only thought he'd have me train somebody to 
 fill my place. And I have trained you well, Franzl ; 
 I've done my best, and you've done yours. He 
 knows it, though he says nothing. He sees how I 
 try day and night to please him. But it's no use. 
 He's got it into his head his farm and Andreas 
 Klumpp's farm must marry." 
 
 " When I'm a man and have a beautiful house 
 and the other things I'm going to have, I shall help 
 the pleasant young people against the old cross 
 ones. I shall make the rich old men give some of 
 their land to the young who haven't any, and I 
 shall help the ones who want to be families." 
 
 " Ah, Franzl, then you'll be very different from 
 the rest of the world. Up here in Waldheim father 
 and Andreas Klumpp are only doing what the Nor- 
 manns and others are doing down in Wynburg. 
 There's Fraulein Doris. She likes Herr Arno. 
 She has always known him. He's given her some 
 sort of lessons too, and been a great deal in the 
 house. He has no money and no place yet. They 
 want to marry her to Count Rosen. His land in 
 the country is next to the Nonnanns' land, but it 
 is a sin to marry acres together instead of hearts. 
 He's in Hannover at the officers' riding-school, and
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 125 
 
 head over heels in debt mean debts too. But 
 next spring there'll be trouble. She never will 
 take him. Herr Arno is worth a dozen of him 
 but there, if you are poor, you haven't much 
 chance ! " 
 
 " Do Herr Arno and Fraulein Doris want to be 
 a family too ? " Franzl asked in great astonishment, 
 picturing another warm room and more pancakes. 
 
 " Oh, dear, yes." 
 
 " Does she know about you and Karl ? Is that 
 why she comes out and asks so pleasant, ' How is 
 Leni to-day ? ' " 
 
 "Of course she knows. Nanni is a Waldheim 
 woman. She has been in the Normann family 
 twenty years, first as nurse, then as cook. She has 
 taken more care of Fraulein Doris than ever her 
 mother has. And I've brought milk to the house 
 eight years. Of course you see into things in that 
 time. Besides, Fraulein Doris and I are the same 
 age to the month." 
 
 " O h," exclaimed Franzl, " you look miles 
 
 
 
 older ! You are so dark and sober not that you 
 don't look very nice, and I like you best but 
 Fraulein Doris is all white and soft." 
 
 " She has never worked," Leni said, simply and 
 without bitterness. " It is work that ages women.
 
 126 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 I've often thought of that, going to so many houses 
 and seeing the inside of things. With us you can't 
 sometimes tell whether a woman is twenty-five or 
 forty. But look at Frau von Normann she might 
 be twenty-five." 
 
 "Well, I don't know if she didn't purse up 
 her lips," Franzl remarked, critically. 
 
 "But you see, Franzl, even pretty Fraulein 
 Doris is wishing for something she can't get. Ev- 
 erybody is." 
 
 " I'm not." 
 
 " O Franzl, the big house." 
 
 " Yes, but I'm going to have it. There's a great 
 difference between wishing for what you can get 
 and for what you can't." 
 
 He did not understand why she laughed as she 
 replied : 
 
 "Wish away, Franzl. Wish hard and work 
 hard. You have heard a deal of grown-up talk 
 to-night. " 
 
 " Oh, I don't call this very old." 
 
 " It won't hurt you, since there's nothing to be 
 ashamed of. I haven't been meeting Karl behind 
 father's back " 
 
 " Like Georg and Eosine," Franzl said, gravely. 
 
 " Or sending him letters on the sly
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 127 
 
 " Like Max and Luise." 
 " If I met Karl to-night, it was right." 
 CC QP course. He is your real family." 
 " I had to see him once more, face to face. I 
 had to tell him I had given up trying to soften 
 father, and that he says I'm to marry Klumpp 
 next February, or be turned out of the house. I 
 have told Karl he must have some sort of home 
 ready for me by that time. He must get a place 
 somewhere, a gardener's place I'd like best, but I 
 don't much care. He's only working in his cous- 
 in's vineyard now. He knows the farm, every 
 inch of it. I always thought when father should 
 see how in earnest I was, he would take Karl back. 
 He's never had a head-man like Karl. But I've 
 given up. I have no more hope. If father turns 
 me adrift I shall have to go. It's hard on an 
 honest girl to have to disobey her father. But 
 Karl and I belong together. It would be a sin for 
 me to marry Andreas Klumpp. I'll stay at home 
 and not marry anybody, or I'll marry Karl. That's 
 the long and short of it. Sometimes I think if 
 father wasn't so very religious he might not be so 
 hard. He's so looked up to in the church, and so 
 particular about everything, he thinks he's always 
 sure to be right. He thinks he's right now, and
 
 128 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 I'm wrong, and he's prayed a great deal about it. 
 That's why I'm tired and discouraged." 
 
 "It's a pity I'm not grown up yet," Franzl 
 broke out, impetuously. " I'd like to send them 
 all spinning Andreas Klumpp and Count Rosen, 
 and Kurt von Normann after them ! " 
 
 " You'd be a terrible fellow, Franzl ! Now I 
 have told you how bad it has been, and how I 
 wanted you to come and bring me good luck. 
 That was only a notion, I suppose, but we've been 
 good friends, Franzl, from the first day, and if 
 I've had any pleasure since you came, it has been 
 through you, and that's the truth." 
 
 She stood silent and thoughtful for some minutes, 
 her hand resting affectionately on his shoulder. 
 
 " It's late, very late, Franzl," she said, at length. 
 " Go to bed now." 
 
 A curious medley ran through his mind. It was 
 strange business that all these grown people 
 shouldn't do what they wanted. The differences 
 then were only in the words and the picture. In 
 the very inside of them, Herr Arno and Fraulein 
 Doris were wishing and wishing, quite like Karl 
 and Leni. 
 
 " Oh, if I could only hurry and be a man ! " he 
 exclaimed, vehemently. " You'd see, Leni ! "
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 129 
 
 " I see that you have a good heart. Good- 
 night, Franzl." 
 
 She had seemed prodigiously wise to the child 
 during all this strange talk in the dark. She had 
 spoken of things beyond his experience. Perhaps 
 she did know after all. With an eager impulse he 
 said: 
 
 " Leni, what is a blesbleege ? " 
 
 " Where did you see one ? " 
 
 " I didn't see it. The Normanns talked about 
 it." 
 
 " Perhaps it's a French vegetable," suggested 
 the girl, carelessly. " Nanni says they call fried 
 potatoes pommesf rites. Couldn't it be something 
 of that kind ? " 
 
 Franzl was motionless for some moments. 
 
 "Never mind," he said, kindly and brightly; "I 
 don't suppose it is much of anything. And you 
 cheer up, Leni. You shall have Karl. There's no 
 mistake about that. Good-night," and he tramped 
 off to his hay-bed.
 
 "vm. 
 
 NEAR Wynburg was a beautiful river which 
 seemed to have been created for the express pur- 
 pose of distracting and tempting boys, and making 
 them unmindful of their duty. Neither wide nor 
 deep, it flowed past pretty suburban towns and 
 villages, whose cool, green, shady gardens ran 
 down to the water's edge, over which large trees 
 extended rich drooping branches. The river was 
 a veritable river, possessed of traditional and his- 
 toric importance, but at this point in its career it 
 acted strangely like an overgrown brook, eddying 
 and prancing in a juvenile manner round a couple 
 of islands, improvising a few cascades, dashing 
 boisterously over some rocks, and tossing its mane 
 beneath three bridges a heavy, broad structure, 
 solid as the highway ; an airy suspension railway 
 bridge; and a narrow arched one for foot-passen- 
 gers only, and resting lightly on an island before 
 spanning the other flood. 
 
 Leaning on the railing of the small arched
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 131 
 
 bridge, one sunny September morning, stood a 
 dirty little boy with a basket of new potatoes 
 which Leni had told him to take to a certain house 
 far beyond the river. She had also said he was to 
 be as prompt as possible, for business was lively 
 at the market and she needed him every moment. 
 Franzl thought a fellow ought to have more than 
 two eyes to see everything that was going on that 
 morning. Watching the two shores and the isl- 
 ands and the bridges kept him very busy. It was 
 like three rings at a circus. There was a glitter- 
 ing troop of cavalry winding along one side of the 
 river, a tramway-terminus with much backing and 
 geeing of heavy horses on the other, besides a 
 hurdy-gurdy with a monkey ; the whole world and 
 his wife were passing over the big bridge, a drove 
 of cattle was approaching it; a train steamed 
 slowly across the suspension bridge ; on the nearer 
 island flags were flying, a merry-go-round revolved 
 indefatigably, and gay tents peeped from the 
 foliage, while three swimming-schools, whose dis- 
 creet if rough board walls screened the boy- 
 bathers, let delighted whoops and yells ascend to 
 Franzl's ears. Directly near him, on the steep 
 green bank, a flock of sheep, alarmed by the shriek 
 of the locomotive, had lost their leader and their
 
 132 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 silly heads, and were plunging distractedly toward 
 the water, instead of filing respectably along the 
 path that led to Franzl's bridge. An angry man 
 and a giggling boy sought to collect the scattered 
 animals, whose panic and consistent foolishness 
 made so delectable a sight it would have glued the 
 very elect to the spot. A gale of laughter over- 
 came Franzl. He put down his basket, held his 
 sides, and tears ran down his cheeks. 
 
 If things had not been so attractive to his curi- 
 ous, alert young spirit, if the sun had not sparkled 
 so on the water, if everybody had not seemed to be 
 enjoying himself, if there had not been a merry-go- 
 round grinding out the " Beggar Student " waltz 
 in the most discordant yet imperatively inviting 
 manner while the river was the best merry-go- 
 round of all if he had not heard those boys 
 splashing and shrieking behind those tantalizing 
 boards, if if Mr. William Shakespeare says 
 there's " much virtue in an if " if, in short, Franzl 
 had been a good little boy of a sober and plodding 
 temperament, with ears and eyes wisely but not too 
 well open, or if he had been a certain kind of child 
 of stoic, Sunday-school-book mould, who would 
 have felt, but with heroic virtue resisted, these 
 allurements, certain events which followed might
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 133 
 
 have been altogether different in fact, might have 
 proved far less comfortable and happy for all con- 
 cerned. 
 
 The horsemen passed, the train went out of 
 sight, the sheep recovered their proper state of 
 docile irresponsibility, and Franzl reluctantly took 
 up his basket and trudged on. His cheeks were 
 glowing hot. He had baked so long in the sun- 
 shine, it seemed to him he was never so warm in 
 his life. When he looked at all that water, he felt 
 that no boy on earth had ever been so warm as he 
 at the moment. The maddening voices of those 
 cool river-urchins followed him as he turned down 
 a long, dusty, sultry street, and left all pleasing 
 sights and sounds behind. 
 
 Having delivered his potatoes, he retraced his 
 steps slowly, meditating upon many things which 
 a stern moralist would scarcely have pronounced 
 edifying. Beaching the river, he without hesita- 
 tion turned up the shore-road instead of crossing 
 the bridge which led to the city, his duty, and pa- 
 tient Leni waiting for the truant. The boys' voices 
 ceased to irritate him, and induced merely a re- 
 sponsive and expectant smile. " You just wait, 
 you fellows ! " was the language of his whole per- 
 sonality. When he met an old woman, he wiped
 
 134 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 his face on his sleeve in an airy and negligent 
 manner. As he passed some men talking busily, 
 without a glance at him, he looked the other way 
 and whistled very loud. He also stared somewhat 
 defiantly at a group of little girls playing with dolls 
 under a tree. 
 
 But no one knew him, nobody stopped him ; 
 there was nothing whatever to turn him from the 
 course which he had undertaken ; and it must be 
 admitted that, being a resolute nature, after he 
 had once made up his mind to backslide, he back- 
 slid with great rapidity and aplomb. Farther and 
 farther he strayed from the path of rectitude, fol- 
 lowing the shore, soon leaving the little town be- 
 hind and finding green country ways a meadow 
 belted with poplars, and the river-bank thick with 
 alders and willows. The dense shrubbery was 
 what he sought, since he had no pfennigs for a 
 dressing-room and bathing-gear, like those opulent 
 fellows down by the island. But little cared he 
 for that, as he quickly left clothes and basket un- 
 der a bush, and plunged into the tempting depths 
 with a rapturous sense of freedom and power, as 
 if he could ride the crest of a wave as well as any 
 Triton of them all. 
 
 His enjoyment was vast, and unruffled by the
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 135 
 
 faintest breath of self-reproach. His conscience 
 for the moment was dormant. This water was what 
 he had craved, and now that he had it, he basked 
 and revelled and gloried in it, from the crown of 
 his head to the tips of his toes. After some time 
 devoted to purely physical enjoyment, an infinite 
 variety of dolphin tricks, lazy self-communion, and 
 the agreeable discovery that he had gained wind, 
 strength, and stroke, he deigned to cast his eyes 
 upon the world of which he had been utterly ob- 
 livious. 
 
 At some distance beyond his bush dressing- 
 room, the shore curved gently toward lawns and 
 villas, while across the little cove stood an old 
 brown building which looked like a mill. It was 
 the Water House of which he had heard some talk 
 at the market. It served to regulate and control 
 the supply of water for the mills, and was also im- 
 mortalized in school-girl drawing-books, budding 
 talent sketching from nature being often conducted 
 to this picturesque spot. The stream near it had 
 the reputation of treacherous currents and eddies, 
 and was a dangerous and unlucky place for swim- 
 mers, which prudent children should avoid ; but 
 proud experts occasionally sought its whirling 
 waters. Franzl, peering about in every direction,
 
 136 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 thought it would be a fine thing to go up and swim 
 in the " Whirlpool," and then brag of it. Inspired 
 by this lofty motive, he struck out toward the 
 Water House. Swimming into the cove, he pres- 
 ently perceived two or three boys walking on logs 
 which, loosely bound together, made an insecure 
 floor far out over the water. On the shore a little 
 girl was hopping frantically about, and calling to 
 them to come back. He would have recognized 
 the motions, even without the voice, as Hildegard 
 Normann's, and instantly, with the consciousness 
 of Kurt's presence, Franzl's intense joy in his es- 
 capade was dead and gone. The water might have 
 been sawdust for all the pleasure it gave him. He 
 watched the boys greedily, the old tormenting 
 thoughts reborn in his heart, as he saw Kurt ad- 
 vancing, laughing, chattering, boasting, pushing, 
 being pushed, and calling teasing replies to the 
 frightened little girl on shore. Franzl determined 
 to swim nearer, " show off," and do some things 
 Kurt couldn't for the life of him. 
 
 The boys in high glee grew more reckless every 
 moment. Kurt was on a nearly detached log, dar- 
 ing the others to follow, and announcing mockingly 
 that nobody was so sure-footed and cool-headed as 
 he. Thus taunted, one of his friends stepped on
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 137 
 
 the other end, the log bobbed, pitched, rolled, and 
 precipitated both boys into the water. Hildegard 
 screamed, Franzl laughed with malicious delight, 
 the boys talked all together, one knelt and helped 
 his friend, who succeeded in clutching the slippery 
 bark and scrambled into safety. He stood a drip- 
 ping and discomfited figure, gesticulating, and ex- 
 plaining how he had happened to fall. Franzl 
 swam nearer, laughing still and thinking it awfully 
 good fun. Hildegard, shrieking wildly, had run 
 up the bank for help. But where was Kurt? 
 Franzl had not seen him rise once. The boys, too, 
 were evidently anxious. 
 
 " Kurt ! " they cried. " Kurt, come up! Don't 
 fool any more ! " 
 
 The moment Franzl became conscious that there 
 was actual danger, he shot forward with all his 
 strength and speed to the rescue. He was pos- 
 sessed soul and body by the instinct to save a hu- 
 man life, his "every sense was on the alert. 
 
 "He's under the log," he thought, "and the 
 current is too strong for him and he's got his 
 clothes on." 
 
 Like a flash he turned and swam some rods 
 below the place of the accident, plunged deep, 
 swimming under water and under the logs. He
 
 138 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 saw nothing and came up an instant to the sur- 
 face. 
 
 " Oh, haven't you got him ? " cried the fright- 
 ened boys. 
 
 Franzl dived again. 
 
 With his blurred under-water vision, he per- 
 ceived a big dark, indistinct mass which he with 
 a bound approached. He clutched Kurt's hair 
 and then his coat, swam with one arm and dragged 
 the heavy weight how he never knew but he 
 made a desperate effort to remember where the 
 logs lay, and not lose his bearings, so that he 
 could get to an opening as soon as possible. The 
 current was so powerful he had to swim with it, 
 and presently saw by the light that they were 
 freed from their dangerous prison and could come 
 up to the surface. With his last strength he got 
 his right arm around Kurt, the other round a log, 
 and hung breathless, exhausted, clutching him 
 frantically and in mortal terror that he was dead. 
 His face was ghastly, his eyes staring, his mouth 
 open, his head fell helplessly forward. Fraiizl 
 kept the poor head above water. Men were al- 
 ready gathered on the bank, and several, half- 
 stripped, had plunged for the two children. As 
 rapidly as they came, it seemed ages to Franzl be-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 139 
 
 fore they removed the cold unconscious body from 
 his convulsive embrace. 
 
 The Normanns' coachman took Kurt in his arms. 
 
 " The poor boy's dead," he exclaimed, as he bore 
 him away ; " quite dead." 
 
 " You rub him," cried Franzl, fiercely. " Don't 
 you let him be dead ! " 
 
 " Here, you brave little fellow, take my hand 
 and come up," said one of the men. 
 
 "Who are you? What is his name?" asked 
 several voices. 
 
 Franzl's heart was ready to burst with excite- 
 ment and fear. Without a word he swam off to 
 get rid of the strangers, but not far, for he was 
 weak. On the bank, in the sunshine, screened by 
 clustering bushes, he stretched himself out and 
 grew warm again. Overcome by fatigue he slept, 
 how long he did not know, but it was about noon 
 he saw by the sun when he awoke. Strengthened, 
 but still feeling queer and shaky, he swam down 
 the stream to the spot where his little mound of 
 personal effects, with the potato-basket as private 
 seal on top, stood unmolested. 
 
 Soon he was crossing the bridge upon which he 
 had loitered before all this happened. The 
 bridge was the same, but its glamour had departed.
 
 140 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 Nothing had any charm for him. When he 
 reached the market, he was relieved to find that 
 Leni had gone home. He was so very drowsy 
 that after eating a bit of bread, he concluded to 
 disappear under a bench where the women would 
 not be apt to look for him, and here, concealed also 
 by an empty meal -bag, he fell into a long, profound 
 sleep, from which he waked refreshed and well. 
 
 All his thoughts were with Kurt. Was he dead ? 
 Must he die ? When Franzl approached the Nor- 
 mann house that evening, his heart beat fast, and 
 he could not muster courage to go in and ask 
 Nanni what he longed and feared to know. He 
 saw a little boy in the park and prevailed upon 
 him to run up and ask the cook if the boy that 
 had fallen into the water was dead or alive. The 
 child went willingly, and Franzl waited, consumed 
 by anxiety and dread. 
 
 " He's alive. They've worked over him all day. 
 They thought he was dead. But his mother 
 wouldn't give him up when everybody else thought 
 he was gone. The whole family is out there in the 
 friend's house, where his mother was making a 
 visit when it happened. They have just tele- 
 phoned the cook. She is crying and laughing 
 like anything."
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 141 
 
 Franzl gave the astonished boy a violent shake 
 and a hug, and resumed his homeward way, tears 
 rolling down his cheeks. It was a matter of utter 
 indifference to him that some boys hooted and 
 called him " cry-baby." He experienced no de- 
 sire to punch them. 
 
 The long walk quieted his excitement some- 
 what, and Leni, in the twilight, perceived noth- 
 ing unusual in his manner as he entered the 
 kitchen. 
 
 " Why did you stay away so long ? " she asked 
 coldly, as she gave him his supper. 
 
 " I went swimming." 
 
 " What made you do it, when I said I needed 
 you?" 
 
 " The water made me. It put the old Nick into 
 me, Leni." 
 
 She repressed a smile, hesitated, and finally 
 said : * 
 
 " I should have scolded you well if I'd been 
 there when you came back to the market. But 
 it's a good many hours since then, and the first 
 time you've run off. Don't do it again." 
 
 " Then you'd better not send me over there," 
 he returned, now dwelling with delight on the re- 
 membrance of his swim.
 
 142 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " I would rather send you, and give you time 
 to go in," she rejoined, quietly. " I didn't say, 
 Don't swim again. I said, Don't run away again. 
 It isn't business." 
 
 '! You're a good one," he exclaimed, gratefully. 
 
 He found the warm soup comforting, Leni had 
 been generous toward his misdemeanor, and Kurt 
 was going to have his other face again, not that 
 wet, awful one. Altogether things were happy, 
 yet he could not help living over that terrible 
 strain and pull. 
 
 Presently he said, in a shy, indifferent tone : 
 
 " There were some other fellows out there." 
 
 " Were there ? " Leni replied, her thoughts else- 
 where. 
 
 " One of them fell off a log." 
 
 " Did he ? " the girl said, mechanically. 
 
 " I got his head up." 
 
 "Did you?" 
 
 "Yes, and he's all right." 
 
 There was a strong note of exultation in his 
 voice, but Leni was not paying attention. 
 
 After a long pause he said : 
 
 "It isn't much use to hate people, is it, 
 Leni?" 
 
 "I don't know that I ever really hated any-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 143 
 
 body," she returned, with a sigh, " but sometimes 
 I don't like, about as hard as I can." 
 
 " Because," continued the child, " after you hate 
 them you have to unhate them, and then you find 
 you've been wasting your thoughts."
 
 IX. 
 
 FBANZL'S desire to see Kurt's " old " face, with its 
 supercilious and insolent smile, was so great that 
 he entered the Normanns' courtyard with his full 
 cans, a good half-hour earlier than usual. He felt 
 extremely sheepish, not in the least from over- 
 weening consciousness of heroism, but simply be- 
 cause he, for the first time since the day he met 
 Kurt, did not approach the house eager to take 
 offence and with scowling animosity seated on his 
 brow. 
 
 He was therefore astonished beyond measure 
 when buxom Nanni hugged and kissed him tu- 
 multuously, and Hildegard seized his hands and 
 danced up and down and said : " Oh, dear me, 
 oh, dear me, oh, dear me, oh, dear me ! " as fast as 
 her tongue would go, and could think of nothing 
 more appropriate to remark. But his discomfort 
 increased tenfold when Kurt's dreaded mamma 
 wept over him, and poured incoherent ejacula- 
 tions upon him, and Fraulein Doris smiled like an
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 145 
 
 angel and murmured, " Dear little boy ! Dear 
 Franzl ! " and finally took his hand and led him 
 along the corridor, saying : 
 
 " Papa wants you. You must come to papa." 
 
 This was the worst of all. Not like a conquer- 
 ing hero, but frowning and reluctant, the boy en- 
 tered the Major's study and stood with the air of 
 a culprit before the tribunal. 
 
 The tall officer rose from his chair at the writ- 
 ing-table, came forward with his long military step, 
 and without a word looked for some moments at 
 the little figure. 
 
 " My brave little man " the voice accustomed 
 to command a squadron, was low and unsteady 
 " you have made me your debtor for life." Von 
 Normann placed his hands on Franzl's shoul- 
 ders. 
 
 The boy squirmed and wished he were on the 
 other side* of the door, but presently became in- 
 terested in the major's long-legged boots. 
 
 " You risked your life for my beloved son," the 
 deep voice went on, "and you have made us a 
 glad house this day, instead of a house of mourn- 
 ing." 
 
 Now, Franzl had not looked at the matter in this 
 light, and the close proximity of the gentleman,
 
 146 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 together with the solemnity of his tone, rendered 
 the child hopelessly unreceptive of other people's 
 views of his conduct as well as taciturn as to his 
 own. Having his chin raised a procedure which 
 he detested and being forced to bear a long, 
 thoughtful scrutiny, he discovered with surprise, 
 that in spite of the gray hair, weather-beaten face, 
 and the bigness and awfulness of the major, he 
 had Fraulein Doris's gentle questioning gaze. 
 
 " Such a child," murmured von Normann, " and 
 such courage ! To think what it is you have done 
 for me restored to me ! To think that you have 
 saved my only son's life ! " 
 
 " I got his head up," Franzl admitted, in a tone 
 which from embarrassment sounded sullen. 
 
 " Got his head up ! You saved him swam 
 with him pulled him along under those logs, a 
 merciful Heaven alone knows how and Kurt as 
 large as you ! " 
 
 " Oh, no, I'm bigger," Franzl broke out, " and a 
 great deal stronger. I could have pulled him out 
 if he'd been twice as heavy." 
 
 A twinkle was visible an instant in the major's 
 eyes. 
 
 " It was not only your strength," he said, simply, 
 it was " He hesitated. He had the kindest
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 147 
 
 heart in the world, and a loyal, grateful spirit, and 
 was resolved to watch and further this boy's in- 
 terests always ; but the good major entertained 
 thoroughly conservative views, and disapproved of 
 turning the heads of the lower classes even if they 
 did save lives. The boy, it was true, with stur- 
 dy unconsciousness of the greatness of his deed, 
 seemed to regard it merely as an exhibition of 
 muscle. But perhaps he had had praise enough 
 for the moment. The women would surely spoil 
 him if they could. It would be wisest to find out 
 gradually what would be best for him, to study 
 his tastes, capabilities, and wishes. Physically, he 
 was a beautiful specimen, and no man could have 
 evinced a more gallant spirit. It was a respon- 
 sibility a sacred duty to do the right thing for 
 him. In the meantime until graver matters should 
 be decided, one could give the little fellow a great 
 pleasure. 
 
 " We shall have time to talk of many things 
 when we know each other better," the major said, 
 amiably ; " I am going to look well after you." 
 
 To Franzl this sounded ominous as well as 
 superfluous, since he was perfectly able to look 
 after himself. He stared and said nothing. 
 
 "But tell me some wish of yours, something
 
 148 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 that you want very much " the major went on in 
 the kindest tone " something that I can do at 
 once to make this a happy day for you." 
 
 He waited, smiling indulgently upon the shabby, 
 handsome boy, and rather curious to hear his 
 reply. 
 
 " Oh, it's happy enough. There isn't anything 
 the matter with it," Franzl answered, unabashed 
 now that the major was asking him straight ques- 
 tions and not making him feel foolish. 
 
 That gentleman concluded the boy's apparent 
 indifference might be a concession to peasant-eti- 
 quette, and waited with benevolent expectation. 
 
 " Well ? What shall it be ? What shall I give 
 you ? " 
 
 " Nothing," Franzl replied, his manner so sim- 
 ple, his glance so bold and direct, it was impossi- 
 ble to doubt his sincerity. 
 
 " Nothing? " repeated the major. 
 
 " Why, no," the boy returned, smiling charming- 
 ly, for he thought he would have a room like that 
 by-and-by, with armor and guns and swords, and a 
 big horn crosswise on the wall. 
 
 " But you really must tell me something, my 
 dear boy," urged the major. " Give me the hap- 
 piness of doing some trifling service for you to-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 149 
 
 day. You surely have needs and wants. Every- 
 body has. If I should propose this to my boy, he 
 would tell me fifty things, I assure you. Don't 
 hesitate. Don't be shy. Kemember it was my 
 darling's life that you saved. I can never, never 
 do enough for you." 
 
 "I went swimming for fun," Franzl remarked 
 stolidly. " They don't pay you for swimming." 
 
 " Good heavens, child," von Normann ex- 
 claimed, not without a trace of impatience at this 
 obtuseness or opposition ; " can't you understand 
 it's my son's life we are discussing ? I presume 
 you won't deny that you saved him." 
 
 "I suppose I did," Franzl conceded, reflectively, 
 " but I'd have gone for anybody else as quick. 
 When you see them fall in, and don't see them 
 come up again, you have to go for them, you 
 know." 
 
 Von N&rmann gave him a keen glance, turned, 
 and walked up and down the room. 
 
 The boy's gaze followed the stately, martial fig- 
 ure with approval. He would have a uniform, 
 too, some day, with tight legs, high boots, and all. 
 
 " Let us be serious," said the Major. " I shall 
 put some money in the bank for you to-day, for 
 one thing."
 
 150 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 Franzl looked quite unconcerned. The only 
 money which he understood was money that he 
 could see, feel, and chink. 
 
 " But we can talk of that later," the major con- 
 tinued, edified to observe that the child evinced 
 no desire to occupy himself with so vague and un- 
 interesting a subject. 
 
 " What the deuce of a boy it is ! " thought von 
 Normann. "One can make no headway with 
 him." 
 
 "Now see here. I haven't much time." 
 
 " Neither have I," returned Franzl, pleasantly. 
 
 The major smiled, put his hands behind him, 
 and looked down steadily at his guest. 
 
 Franzl also, very erect, and with his hands be- 
 hind him, stood watching with much interest the 
 phenomenon of Fraulein Doris's pleasant eyes 
 under bushy gray eyebrows. 
 
 " The children call you Franzl. Franzl what ? " 
 
 " Reiner." 
 
 " How old are you ? " 
 
 " Twelve in January." 
 
 " Tyrolean, as I hear from your accent." 
 
 " From Heilig-Kreuz, in the Venter Thai." 
 
 " You have snow enough there, eh ? " 
 
 "They have more at Vent. The avalanches
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 151 
 
 snow them up there for six or eight months. But 
 I could come down in March from Heilig-Kreuz." 
 
 " You came down in March ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, to the child-market in Eavensburg." 
 
 "Not alone?" 
 
 " I started alone and was alone in the moun- 
 tains. Down below sometimes I met people, and 
 sometimes I didn't." 
 
 " What is your father ? " 
 
 " He was a hunter and guide. He is dead my 
 mother too." 
 
 " Ah ! No family, then ? No brothers and 
 sisters ? " 
 
 " I have a family a small one." 
 
 " But not here." 
 
 " No, not yet." 
 
 "You are with Christian Lutz? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Does lie treat you well ? " 
 
 " Well enough. But it's Leni I see most. She 
 is good." 
 
 " How long do you work a day ? " 
 
 " From half -past four in the morning till eight in 
 the evening." 
 
 " Enough to eat ? " 
 
 " Yes."
 
 152 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Anything to complain of ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Hm ! " said the major. 
 
 " Of course ! " thought Franzl. " They always 
 have to ' Hm ' at a fellow." 
 
 " You are young to pull that cart from Wald- 
 heim to Wynburg." 
 
 " The older ones don't pull theirs better." 
 
 Aiter a moment the major asked : 
 
 "Have you thought what trade you'd like to 
 learn ? " 
 
 " I have thought, but haven't decided yet." 
 
 "If you'll decide, I'll see to the details. I'll 
 get you a good place at once." 
 
 " But I like it where I am. I like Leni. Then 
 I'm sold till next March. He bought me at the 
 child-market." 
 
 " But I could buy you on higher terms. I know 
 Lutz. You'll find he'll sell." 
 
 " You can't sell yourself for a year, and then cut 
 it short," Franzl gravely explained. " It would be 
 like cheating when you measure milk. That isn't 
 business." 
 
 The major laughed heartily. 
 
 " You are quite right, Franzl. Your logic beats 
 mine every time. Keep your engagement, by all
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 153 
 
 means. And March is not very far off. But don't 
 sell yourself to anybody else before coming to me. 
 I promise to pay highest. By the way, what is the 
 Ravensburg market-price for a fine little fellow like 
 you ? " 
 
 "Fifty marks," was the proud reply. "Only 
 very few old boys get more." 
 
 " Upon my word ! " exclaimed the major, ab- 
 ruptly ; then again and more vigorously : " Upon 
 my word ! " but Franzl had no idea what he meant. 
 
 " Once more and for the last time, there is pos- 
 itively nothing that you want? " 
 
 " Oh, there are some things I want, but you see 
 I am going to get them myself later," the child re- 
 plied, with his brave young voice. 
 
 " Which means that there is nothing whatever 
 you want of me to-day ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 The major raised his eyebrows and shook his 
 head slightly. 
 
 " Then I wish I was as rich as you, and as inde- 
 pendent." 
 
 The boy was looking critically at a rifle on the 
 wall. 
 
 Yon Normann took it down and put it in the 
 child's hands, saying pleasantly :
 
 154 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 "It is too long for you, or you could have it. 
 Would you like a small one ? " 
 
 " Thank you, no," Franzl returned, with dignity. 
 "I have one of my own at home. It was my 
 father's, and it is quite as long as this one." 
 
 The major turned to replace the rifle and conceal 
 a smile, asked Franzl to wait an instant, and left 
 the room. 
 
 " Doris, my dear," he said, " that's a child after 
 my own heart. Sturdy, sound, brave, and proud 
 as a Spanish grandee. But peasant pride, you 
 know. No sickly longings to rise above his sta- 
 tion ; no discontent ; no desire for luxuries. Why, 
 my dear girl, would you believe it, I have tried my 
 best and I can't induce him to say he wants any- 
 thing whatever ! You must try, Doris. Perhaps 
 you will wheedle it out of him. You'd wheedle 
 anything out of anybody." 
 
 " I'm wheedling a deep wrinkle out of your fore- 
 head, papa," smoothing it with her soft palm. 
 " It's a very peculiar wrinkle, and always comes 
 when you mount your hobby that people should 
 be contented in their stations. But I'm glad you 
 like Franzl. We would love him whatever he was, 
 for what he did yesterday, but he is really a lovely 
 boy, papa."
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 155 
 
 " There is admirable stuff in him, if he doesn't 
 get notions. I don't want him spoiled in this 
 house, you understand." 
 
 " Oh, papa, as if you wouldn't spoil him first of 
 all ! As if you hadn't spoiled all of us ! " 
 
 " That's altogether different. But we'll talk of 
 these things later. Try to gain his confidence and 
 help him to think of something he wants. I asked 
 him casually, supposing he would answer on the 
 instant like any other child. He looks so honest I 
 must believe him, yet it is incredible that the little 
 rascal has risen above all human wants and de- 
 sires. So I'm puzzled and feel like carrying my 
 point. No doubt you can do better with him, but 
 don't flatter him, Doris. There is refreshing in- 
 tegrity in the boy." 
 
 " You wouldn't accuse me of tampering with it, 
 would you, papa, if I should give him a large slice 
 of bread-and-butter, spread extra thick with straw- 
 berry jam ? " 
 
 " I must go," Franzl said, at once, as father and 
 daughter returned to the study. " I must hurry, or 
 I shall be late." 
 
 " But you'll come back ? I want to see you so 
 much, and Kurt has asked for you. He's fallen 
 asleep again now."
 
 156 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Oh, I can't. You see I ran away yesterday. 
 I can't again to-day." 
 
 " No, we don't want any deserters," the major 
 said, smiling. " But what have you to do ? " 
 
 "There's no market. After my rounds I go 
 home and work." 
 
 " If I make it right with Lutz ? If I say I am 
 keeping you ? " 
 
 Franzl still looked doubtful. 
 
 "How will he know?" 
 
 " I'll send my Bursch." 
 
 Franzl's eyes sparkled. 
 
 " A soldier on horseback with a message about 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Will he say it loud, so that all the men will 
 hear?" 
 
 " His voice is powerful," the major said, sober- 
 ly, " and I will give him special orders to roar." 
 
 " And the milk-cart ? " 
 
 " Must it go back at once ? " 
 
 " Of course," Franzl returned, instructively. 
 "Didn't you know they wash the cans?" 
 
 " At least I have always hoped so," the major 
 rejoined, meekly. "He can take it up, I sup- 
 pose."
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 157 
 
 " A man in uniform with my milk-cart ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Franzl flushed. 
 
 " All right. I'll come." 
 
 " When and where shall he meet you ? " 
 
 " Here, at eleven." 
 
 The Bursch and Franzl were both punctual. 
 After giving the man some lordly directions, the 
 boy went into the house. Doris received him and 
 led him at once into her mamma's dressing-room, 
 where Kurt was installed hi high state. 
 
 " Mamma can't let him out of her sight," the 
 young girl informed him. "She has to look at 
 him every instant to see that he is all there. But 
 I don't blame her." 
 
 The room was slightly darkened ; there was a 
 mingling of sweet odors in the air, a profusion of 
 rose-color and lace on the bed where Kurt lay 
 " swaddling clothes," he disrespectfully called his 
 environment. 
 
 " I wouldn't miss this meeting for worlds ! " 
 whispered Frau von Normann to Doris. 
 
 " Hullo, Franzl, how are you ? " said Kurt, with 
 a very dreadful leer. 
 
 " How are you ? " returned Franzl, with a grin. 
 
 Kurt put out his hand. Franzl took it.
 
 158 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " I say that was a muddle ! " remarked the in- 
 valid ; which was all the speechifying ever made by 
 the two upon the subject of Kurt's danger and 
 Franzl's pluck, or any emotional phase of the acci- 
 dent at least while they were cubs. 
 
 " Why didn't you come up ? " Franzl demanded 
 bluntly, after some minutes employed in a satisfy- 
 ing stare at Kurt's face, which had lost not a whit 
 of its mocking flexibility. 
 
 " That's what I'd like to know myself," drawled 
 Kurt. " I suppose I must have hit my head on 
 the log. Papa thinks so. I don't remember a 
 blessed thing from the moment I fell until I 
 opened my eyes in a strange room, and mamma 
 was crying all over me." 
 
 "I shouldn't have hit my head," Franzl as- 
 serted, with extreme arrogance ; " or if I had 
 
 "Oh, come, now!" interrupted Kurt, hotly. 
 " I'd just like to know how you'd have helped it." 
 
 But before Franzl could expound his theories, 
 discreet Doris, observing signs of electric disturb- 
 ances in the atmosphere, had drawn him out of the 
 room, telling him Kurt's chest still troubled him, 
 and talking made him cough. 
 
 Frau von Normann frequently described the 
 scene to her chosen friends, and declared that it
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 159 
 
 was the most touching thing she ever saw, and it 
 was no doubt in her eyes, which were all she had 
 to see with. She always beheld her son's head in 
 a nimbus, the radiance of which in this instance 
 illumined his little vagabond companion. After 
 all, Shakespeare and Goethe could only see with 
 their own eyes ; the highest and meanest of us are 
 subject to this limitation, and when that formid- 
 able person, the critic on the war-path, seeks to 
 drive poets and painters all in one direction, he 
 betrays a naive egotism, for what he really says 
 is : " Paint your pictures of life as my eyes behold 
 it," and this is something never yet on land or sea ; 
 for only a woman in love ever sees with somebody 
 else's eyes and she not for long. " Look in thine 
 own heart and write" said the poet. 
 
 Frau von Normann, furthermore, was at first a 
 little annoyed that the facts of the drowning epi- 
 sode were not reversed. It would have seemed to 
 her more fitting had Kurt saved Franzl. 
 
 Even Sir Walter Scott confessed that he could 
 not repeat a story without giving it a new hat and 
 cane. Frau von Normann was still more liberal. 
 But however she told her tale, the little milk-boy, 
 to her secret surprise, invariably received the plau- 
 dits and bore off the laurels. She gradually
 
 160 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 adapted herself to the situation, took Franzl tinder 
 her wing with a graciousness which was exceed- 
 ingly discomposing to him, and with the admirable 
 mental elasticity of a certain type of mother, per- 
 sisted in interpreting the whole episode as a beau- 
 tiful tribute to her darling's lovableness. 
 
 " Kurt is so noble, so winning," she declared. 
 " Everybody loves him. Think how devotedly 
 attached to him that child must have been to 
 risk his life for him. Really it shows unusual 
 power of appreciation in a boy of his station. 
 Darling Kurt ! "
 
 IN Doris's room, Franzl felt uncommonly com- 
 fortable. She did not ask him questions like the 
 Major, or overpower him with grandeur and lace- 
 ruffles like her mamma, but put him in a low 
 chair, gave him a large dish of peaches and 
 cream, and told him she wanted him to see her 
 cat, for he was a very curious cat with most orig- 
 inal ways of his own. 
 
 " OtheUo ! " she called. 
 
 A great silver-gray Angora cat stalked majesti- 
 cally from the next room. 
 
 " This is my friend Franzl," the young girl po- 
 litely informed him. 
 
 Franzl laughed incredulously. 
 
 " Oh, he can't understand that," he exclaimed. 
 
 " Watch him and let him do what he pleases." 
 
 Othello came directly to Franzl, sniffed boots 
 and clothing, stood on his hind-legs with his 
 broad soft paws on the boy's arm, scented him 
 hands, face, and hair gave him a straight long
 
 162 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 look in the eyes, turned away, and lay down at 
 Doris's feet. There was no purring, nothing in- 
 sinuating or catty, only a clear-headed, cold, and 
 dignified inspection of the stranger. 
 
 " Why, he's like a dog ! " Franzl cried. 
 
 " Indeed, he is in many respects. He will never 
 do that again to you. He knows you now. He 
 examines every stranger, and has strong likes and 
 dislikes. Mamma has some visitors at whose feet 
 he springs the moment he sees them. They are 
 not very fond of him. He treats others with in- 
 difference, and some he likes and welcomes. He 
 doesn't scratch, that is, he scratches Kurt but has 
 never scratched me. He has a way of lifting his 
 paw, curving it, and striking swiftly and hard 
 when he is displeased. He is fond of the odor of 
 flowers, particularly violets." 
 
 " What else does he do ? " demanded Franzl, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " He plays hide-and-seek with Kurt and Hilde- 
 gard. He eats fine white bread of a particular 
 kind for his breakfast and won't touch any other, 
 and he doesn't like milk. You see he did not 
 deign to notice your cream." 
 
 " But what does he drink ? " 
 
 " Water, and sometimes a little soup."
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 163 
 
 " Is he your own cat ? " 
 
 "Yes. He belonged to a girl friend of mine, 
 and it's very odd, but he followed me home sev- 
 eral times, very solemn, his tail straight up in the 
 air like a flag-staff. Finally she gave him to me, 
 and although she lives near us, he has never gone 
 back once. So you see he is more attached to 
 people than to places, and that is more like a dog 
 than a cat, isn't it ? Altogether he is a very re- 
 markable animal, aren't you, Othello ? " 
 
 " What is it you call him ? " 
 
 "Othello." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 " He's a man in a story-book, one of the best 
 story-books in the world. He was very kind- 
 hearted but jealous. So is my cat. He is jealous 
 when I write, and tries to knock away my pen, 
 and waves his tail between me and the paper. He 
 is jealous when I read, and calmly puts himself be- 
 tween me and my book and brushes my face with 
 his tail, until I speak to him and pay him what he 
 thinks is proper attention. He has a very expres- 
 sive tail. His name used to be Peter. He didn't 
 mind at all when I changed it." 
 
 " And you didn't say, ' Kitty, Kitty ! ' just now, 
 you only said Othello once."
 
 164 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " You see," returned Doris, smiling. " He is a 
 character. Another thing. Look, Franzl." 
 
 She took a bird-cage from its place at the win- 
 dow and put it on the floor. Othello opened his 
 eyes lazily, blinked without apparent interest or 
 desire, and closed them. The canary paid as lit- 
 tle attention to him. 
 
 " He is often in the room alone with Mignon, 
 and could easily put his paw through the wires, 
 but never goes near him." 
 
 " Did you ever try him with the bird out of the 
 cage ? " Franzl asked, excitedly. " Because it 
 would be awful fun to see if he goes for him, you 
 know. Now, if you should let the bird hop along 
 the carpet just in front of Othello's nose while he's 
 asleep?" 
 
 " It might be fun for you and Othello, but I 
 fancy Mignon wouldn't enjoy it much, and it 
 wouldn't make me very happy. Othello is used to 
 the cage, but not to birds hopping before his nose. 
 While I admire his wonderfully good breeding, 
 and his way of viewing things in the light of pure 
 reason, he is very quick and fierce sometimes, and 
 I don't know what wild-beast instinct might tempt 
 him to lift that swift paw and slay my poor 
 birdie, before he remembered what a fine civilized,
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 165 
 
 genteel cat he had become. Of course, he'd be 
 sorry afterward, but that wouldn't help Mignon or 
 me." 
 
 "No," Franzl admitted, regretfully, "but it 
 would be awfully good fun." 
 
 Doris smiled and rehung the bird-cage. 
 
 " What did you call that bird ? " 
 
 She told him. 
 
 " Why do you call him that ? " 
 
 "It's only French for darling," she returned, 
 carelessly. 
 
 " Oh, is that all ? " he said, encouraged ; " it isn't 
 hard when you know, is it ? " 
 
 Suddenly he flushed, started, looked excited, un- 
 certain, cast a rapid glance at the pictures, at a 
 book-case, a writing-table upon which were books 
 and papers, at the young girl who was smiling in 
 the sweetest, most tranquil way, rearranging some 
 violets in a low dish on the table near her, and re- 
 moving a few which Othello had not only smelled 
 but chewed. 
 
 " Oh," Franzl broke out, " I wish you'd tell me 
 what the great crowd of men coming down the 
 middle of the street meant. Kurt was in front 
 with yellow gloves. What were they doing ? What 
 did that priest, with his arm out and his head
 
 166 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 thrown back, want ? Why did they whip them- 
 selves ? Why were their backs bare and bloody ? 
 Why were they so hungry and thin and white, with 
 such awful eyes ? " 
 
 Doris walked a few steps away from him. 
 
 " Dear little Franzl ! " she murmured, sooth- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Why did they have that child, all skin and 
 bone, on a litter ? Why did they kiss his clothes ? 
 Where did they come from ? Where were they go- 
 ing? Why were there miles and miles of them 
 coming along behind as far as you could see?" 
 
 He had risen and approached Doris, until he 
 stood close to her, grasping the table, scowling in 
 his passionate eagerness, fiery and indomitable 
 search shining in his eyes. 
 
 Doris covered his rough brown hands with her 
 own. 
 
 " I don't know how to tell you quite, dear," she 
 began. 
 
 The child groaned. 
 
 " Oh," he cried, desperately, " not even you ! " 
 his disappointment so intense that she hastened 
 to say : 
 
 "You misunderstood, Franzl. I can tell you, 
 but perhaps you wouldn't understand, because
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 167 
 
 there are things that go before and I don't exactly 
 know where to begin." 
 
 " I don't care about the things that go before. 
 It's those men I want to know about," he said, im- 
 periously. 
 
 " It was a great many hundred years ago six 
 or seven hundred when those men used to march 
 through the streets in Italy." 
 
 " Is it true what you're saying ? " 
 
 " Perfectly. They thought it would please God 
 if they whipped their backs until they bled." 
 
 " Did it ? " 
 
 " I cannot believe that it did. But all over the 
 earth, at all times, among all nations, people have 
 been trying to find God, trying to please him, try- 
 ing to find a way to heaven and life after death ; 
 and sometimes they have done very queer things, 
 even cruel things, because when a great many men 
 get an idea into their heads they want everybody 
 else to think exactly as they do, and they'll fight for 
 it and hurt themselves and other people for it, and, 
 it's like a fever. It makes them wild, and they 
 think nobody ought to have any way but their way 
 of finding God. Is it too hard for you, Franzl ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't call this very hard. Were they 
 hunting for God down that street ? "
 
 168 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 He was drawing nearer and nearer. His face 
 almost touched hers. His eyes devoured hers. 
 His breath was quick and audible. 
 
 She hesitated, considering how she should re- 
 attack the subject. 
 
 " No, dear. It's not quite that. You see, there 
 had been wars." 
 
 " Real, wars ? Is it true ? " 
 
 " Real and terrible wars in a far-off land." 
 
 "What were they fighting about? Did those 
 men fight ? " 
 
 " Franzl, you must try not to be quite so quick. 
 You want the whole world all at once. The wars 
 were about the Holy Land. The Holy Land is in 
 the East, where Christ used to live. A great many 
 nations sent armies to take the land away from 
 the heathen. There were long wars and several 
 times seven or eight wars, and they didn't ac- 
 complish what they undertook. However, the 
 nations became acquainted and learned useful 
 things from one another, and a great many from 
 the enemy too. But afterward there was confu- 
 sion everywhere, because these wars had made 
 such changes in people's minds. Besides, when 
 the soldiers came home they brought diseases 
 with them. There was a terrible plague. There
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 169 
 
 was a famine. Everything was topsy-turvy. 
 Then these men that you saw in the picture 
 started up. They declared God was angry and 
 the only way to please him was to scourge that 
 is, whip the body. Baptism and the sacraments 
 were of no use, they said, the only true religion 
 was scourging. So they marched through the 
 streets scourging themselves, and all the time peo- 
 ple joined them rich and poor young and old. 
 I am afraid I don't make it very clear to you, 
 Franzl?" 
 
 "I understand very well," he said, haughtily. 
 "Fighting isn't hard to understand. What was 
 that priest in front doing ? " 
 
 " He was motioning to the people to clear the 
 way." 
 
 " What were they doing with that little skin-and- 
 bone boy with his eyes sunken in ? " 
 
 "He was dying, he had scourged himself so. 
 He was almost a saint. They were worshipping 
 him." 
 
 Franzl drew a deep breath, as if an enormous 
 load had been lifted from him. How much or 
 little he understood she had no idea. His face 
 cleared, he smiled brilliantly. 
 
 " Nothing's hard when you know it," he re-
 
 170 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 marked. "But I wouldn't have been any such 
 fool. I'd have hit some other fellow's back. I'd 
 have He did not finish his mighty boasts 
 audibly, but was evidently satisfied with his reflec- 
 tions. 
 
 " One thing more, Franzl. The reason you 
 cared about the picture, the reason you have seen 
 it so plainly since, is because it is a strong picture. 
 If a poor artist had painted it, you would have 
 forgotten. But this painter his name is Marr 
 felt the story and knew how to tell it on canvas 
 and make it real ; and that is why the procession 
 comes marching down toward one and reaches so 
 far behind, and is so moving and alive, and the 
 figures are so strong and the faces so strained and 
 fierce." 
 
 " Did any of them ever get well ? " 
 
 " I presume so," she replied, with an amused 
 look. " But, Franzl, I haven't told you their 
 names. The Flagellants. That is a hard word, 
 isn't it ? " 
 
 "Words are never hard if you know what 
 they mean," he returned, sententiously. With 
 infinite confidence in Doris, and the rattling ease 
 acquired by long practice, he suddenly opened 
 fire:
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 171 
 
 * Phyllis in-spe, 
 Faun altruistic, 
 Incorrigible quid-pro-quo, 
 jEschylus catapult, 
 Walhalla propensities, 
 Bohemian Hindu, 
 Scylla Charybdis, 
 Encyclopaedia, 
 Lupus-in-fabula, 
 Ganymede Berserker, 
 Blessbleege and ethics. 
 
 What do they mean, please ? " 
 
 Doris broke into uncontrollable laughter. 
 
 " O Franzl, Franzl, where did you get that 
 rigmarole ? " 
 
 " Eigmarole twenty-one twenty-one rigma- 
 role," repeated the boy, mechanically. Then with 
 a certain anxiety : 
 
 " But don't you know them ? " 
 
 " I think so," she returned, laughing a little still, 
 in spite of herself " if you'll say them slower. I 
 didn't quite hear all of them." 
 
 " Are they funny words ? " he asked, solemnly. 
 
 " Not at all, Franzl. The reason I laugh is 
 because it strikes me as funny for a little boy to
 
 172 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 say them together and all at once. They are very 
 good words. I'll tell you all I can about them." 
 
 " I didn't hear them all at once," he explained. 
 
 "No, I presume not. And why did you say 
 them so, so quite in that way ? " 
 
 " Oh, I've been singing them, you know, going 
 up and down the road." 
 
 " You dear child ! " 
 
 " I was afraid I'd forget, so I hung on to them 
 by my teeth. I don't forget much of anything. 
 Sometimes I wish I could, because I can never 
 get my thinking done, and it's tiresome. But I 
 thought I might forget these because I only heard 
 them a word at a time, so I strung them together 
 to keep them." 
 
 " Where did you hear them ? " 
 
 " Herr Arno said most of them. Herr Hein- 
 rich some. When they are together their talk is 
 awful. I thought I'd have to wait till I got big, 
 and then I could find them out myself." 
 
 " But have you asked no one ? Why didn't you 
 ask Herr Arno?" 
 
 " I did almost once but I don't know him as 
 well as I do you and Leni, and he began to sling 
 some more at me, so I got discouraged and gave it 
 up. And there wasn't anybody else to ask except
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY, 173 
 
 Leni and she's busy, you know, and she says she 
 never minds such nonsense. I suppose that's the 
 way she feels," he added gallantly, watching 
 Doris, with a sudden air of defiance. 
 
 " I presume it is," she said, kindly. " How long 
 have you stored your words away ? " 
 
 " From the day I began with the milk. That 
 was in March. Herr Arno said three that very 
 morning." 
 
 " He would have told you them gladly and far 
 better than I can. You must ask him next time. 
 He would be pleased to have you ask him any- 
 thing. He never dreamed that you listened or 
 cared. Now say your words, Franzl very 
 slowly." 
 
 He said them slowly, loudly, emphatically, some 
 right, some wrong, some dislocated almost beyond 
 recognition, his eyes fixed earnestly upon hers, 
 and she dared not laugh. 
 
 She explained them one by one, as simply and 
 briefly as she could. It was no easy task. Franzl's 
 interpolations were rather mirth-provoking, his 
 comprehension of what seemed to her difficult 
 points sometimes amazed her, while easy things 
 were often hopelessly beyond his grasp. Toward 
 the Greek gods he manifested considerable hostil-
 
 174: A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 ity and contempt. " Come now, Fraulein Doris," 
 he remarked, shaking his head with an incredulous 
 smile, "that isn't sense they've been lying to 
 you." But his interest was unflagging, his cheeks 
 were flushed, his eyes always staring into hers. 
 
 She galloped through ancient and modern times, 
 history, geography, poetry, mythology, biography, 
 and the dictionary, and paused to take breath, 
 wondering what manner of witches-dance she had 
 created in the unfortunate child's brain. 
 
 " Oh," said Franzl, " I like it awfully, I wanted 
 it more than anything. All these months they've 
 been whirling inside my head. Words are awful 
 things when they keep at you." 
 
 "You wanted this more than anything?" she 
 exclaimed. " This ? Only to be told what these 
 words mean ? It isn't possible that this is your 
 dearest wish ? " 
 
 " I wanted it deep down inside of me. When 
 it's deep inside of you, you can't talk about it, you 
 know. I wanted to know about the men and the 
 words. It has been awful." He gave a long sigh 
 of remembrance and relief. 
 
 " Oh, papa, what a shock is in store for you ! " 
 Doris thought. " This is your model-child con- 
 tented with his present lot."
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 175 
 
 " Now," said Franzl cheerfully, his mental ap- 
 petite unsatiated, " what is a blessbleege ? " 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 "A blessbleege! Herr Arno said it to Kurt, 
 and Kurt said it himself." 
 
 She bit her lip. 
 
 " Ah yes, I see." 
 
 She looked at him rather hopelessly. How was 
 she ever going to explain to this milk-boy the su- 
 premely proud motto of her proud old house ? She 
 was a girl of modern and liberal ideas. No mouldy 
 prejudice impeded her progress, dimmed her sight, 
 dwarfed her soul, or restrained her loving, helpful 
 hand, nevertheless she cared for the family motto. 
 While she had no overweening vanity in her long 
 descent, she would rather than not look back upon 
 a fine ancestral perspective. The historical dignity 
 of the Normanns was interesting to her, nor did it 
 seem to her a worthless thing in the present, that 
 the race in the past had been, taking it all in 
 all, an honorable one. Sometimes she wondered 
 if she were too romantic, if the merely picturesque 
 element of lineage fascinated her, for she cherished 
 an affection for family tradition side by side with 
 what her father considered almost revolutionary 
 sentiments a sturdy disregard for social honors
 
 176 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 and no sympathy with certain belittling rubrics 
 which governed the women about her. If it were 
 an advantage, a benign influence of which one 
 might frankly be glad, to have able, honorable, and 
 well-bred parents, then why not also be honestly 
 thankful that one's grand-parents, great-grand-par- 
 ents, and more remote progenitors were also hon- 
 orable? It was certainly pleasanter and more 
 promising than if they had been criminals. It 
 seemed to her that this was a sensible way of re- 
 garding it, and she wished, for her part, that the 
 whole world were so educated that each soul, not 
 now able to look back upon satisfactory ancestors, 
 could at least make himself worthy of becoming 
 the noble ancestor of a future line. Aristocracy 
 of mind and character when all should reach 
 it, all would be noble. As to the motto she 
 loved it. It meant much to her, as it had to the 
 men and women of the race for centuries. In 
 the family annals were brave tales how they had 
 died for the indefinable spirit of their noblesse 
 oblige. 
 
 Many such thoughts flitted through her mind. 
 Yet, what should she say to Franzl ? How could 
 the baroness accentuate her privileges before this 
 child destitute of all of them ? How could she,
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 177 
 
 under his trustful, unfaltering gaze, expatiate upon 
 worldly distinctions, and the dignity and virtues of 
 hereditary nobility? It would be insolence and 
 fatuity. 
 
 Suddenly a lovely smile from her very heart 
 played over her face. Of what, then, was this child 
 destitute ? What had his brave soul prompted but 
 yesterday? What did she prize in the whole an- 
 cestral vista, if not the resolute spirit, the loyal 
 heart, the clear brain? How was any of them 
 nobler than this poor little, untaught boy ? Out 
 of his beautiful ardent eyes, his spirit pleaded for 
 enlightenment, for truth. Without traditions, or 
 motto, or race, or rank, or any moral aid in his 
 surroundings, he had done the high-hearted deed 
 which made the milk-boy brevet chevalier. A 
 long-dead Normann was promoted for extraordi- 
 nary bravery on the field of battle. Wounded and 
 against heavy odds, he saved the life of his friend. 
 He did not reason or know why. Nor did Franzl. 
 And they were equal brothers in soul-rank ; 
 what other nobility was worth anything, or had 
 any right to exist ? 
 
 "Ah, Franzl," she said, her voice sweet and 
 moved : " noblesse oblige means different things at 
 different times, but always that the more one has,
 
 178 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 the more one must give that one has not one's 
 gifts for one's self. Sometimes it means one must 
 give love, sometimes courtesy, or silence, or 
 speech, or work, or forgiveness, or patience, or 
 strength it is often indeed the thing that is 
 hardest to give but whatever it may be, one gives 
 because one must, since one has received so large 
 gifts one's self. And the most precious thing a 
 man can give is his life, and that is what you 
 were ready to give yesterday, because noblesse oblige 
 was in your heart, although you did not know or 
 think. You had more courage, more strength, 
 more skill, more brain than the others that is 
 why you gave of them all. You were pitiful and 
 generous, that is why you could not see Kurt 
 drown before your eyes without risking your life 
 to save him. And now you know what noblesse 
 oblige means, Franzl." 
 
 Once more came his long-drawn, satisfied sigh. 
 He had gradually pressed against her knee, was in 
 her face and eyes, and almost down her throat. He 
 was far from clean, and smelled of stables and bu- 
 colic things generally ; but Doris loved him and 
 thought him beautiful with the unfathomable clear- 
 ness of his gaze, and now and then a flashing 
 glance that startled her, it was so keen and domi-
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 179 
 
 nant, so out of place on the roundness of his pretty 
 brown face. 
 
 " It's more comfortable when you know things. 
 I like it awfully your talk. But," he added, with 
 a little explanatory air, a touch of masculine su- 
 periority and knowledge of facts " I didn't do all 
 those things you said. I didn't blessbleege a 
 minute. There isn't any time, when a fellow is 
 under water. I only went for him. You would 
 yourself, if you'd seen him go down and not seen 
 him come up again."
 
 XL 
 
 " You leave the boy to me," said the major, ora- 
 cularly. 
 
 " But, papa," complained Hildegard, " between 
 you and Doris I shan't have him at all. The other 
 day she kept him so long, I really almost listened 
 at the key-hole." 
 
 Kurt laughed derisively. 
 
 "Almost! I say! If 'almost' means being 
 doubled up with your ear so close I could have 
 shot a pea straight into it from the other side of 
 the door, then I don't know what ' quite ' means." 
 
 " Be quiet, children," said Doris. " Kurt, don't 
 tease." 
 
 " You leave that boy to me," repeated the major, 
 ignoring the intermezzo, and nodding his head 
 with decision and benevolent intentions. 
 
 " I think," Frau von Normann remarked, " that 
 the kindest thing we can do is to let him play with 
 Kurt now and then, on a Saturday afternoon. It 
 will be a refining influence, and
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 181 
 
 At this moment Hildegard, incited by one of her 
 brother's most satanic facial contortions, choked 
 violently and had to be sent from the table. 
 
 " Isn't she very noisy ? " the major asked, with a 
 helpless expression. " It seems to me she's always 
 doing something." 
 
 " I made her laugh, papa. She goes off with a 
 look, you know." 
 
 " If you call that fiendish thing a look, Kurt," 
 Doris said, in an undertone. 
 
 " Don't lecture him, Doris, remember he's not 
 yet fully recovered," urged his mamma. " Kurt, 
 darling, you'd better go. You'll be late at your 
 drawing." 
 
 " It is a great responsibility," the major went on, 
 " our conduct to that boy. The fact that we like 
 him personally does not simplify matters, it com- 
 plicates them. It increases the danger of spoiling 
 him. He is a bright, handsome, manly little fellow. 
 I grant that he has become a part of us, of our 
 thoughts and conscience, of our lives, and that we 
 can never to the end of our days fail to consider 
 his interests. Precisely for these reasons, I say 
 leave him to me. Unless you want to ruin his 
 future, want to make him a discontented, miserable 
 hobbledehoy, neither honest peasant nor honest
 
 182 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 anything else, don't flatter him, don't rouse long- 
 ings for the impossible in him, don't weaken and 
 confuse him, leave him where he is and where he 
 belongs. Trust me a little in this matter, Doris. 
 I've seen enough misery made by injudicious be- 
 nevolence. Your sentiment and theories get the 
 better of your judgment. I tell you simply I am 
 Franzl's friend." 
 
 " He couldn't have a better friend on earth," 
 Doris rejoined, affectionately. " Only, papa, I 
 really don't think you or anybody else can stop 
 him." 
 
 " Stop him ? Stop him ? Pray, who wants to 
 stop him ? " 
 
 "I am sure, Doris, your papa intends to do 
 everything for him in the most generous way, and 
 in whichever direction he manifests taste and abil- 
 ity. Nothing could be kinder or wiser than your 
 papa's plans." 
 
 " But I do not propose to go so fast that the 
 boy's head will be turned." 
 
 " If I could show you how he felt that day, papa. 
 He was quite at his ease, I am sure, yet he only 
 wanted to find out the meaning of things. I told 
 you, but 
 
 " But you and I don't regard it in the same
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 183 
 
 light, ray dear. I presume it was like fortune-tell- 
 ing a kind of reflex action. I have always found 
 that when clairvoyants, chiromancers, and all other 
 old witches tell silly people marvellous things, the 
 data have been skilfully extracted from the prey." 
 
 He laughed indulgently. 
 
 " No, papa, I suggested nothing. It was all his 
 own self his initiative ; and he cared I cannot 
 tell you how intensely he cared. He was passion- 
 ately eager." 
 
 " My dear child ! When was a bright boy not 
 curious? Curiosity is a dominant characteristic 
 of childhood. I see nothing phenomenal in him. 
 I observe with pleasure that he has exceptional 
 simplicity and sturdiness. It is a healthy sign, 
 and I like his want of greed, his all-pervading con- 
 tent." 
 
 " Oh, papa, papa ! " 
 
 " Yes, my dear, that is it. A child who cannot 
 be induced to mention one single thing that he 
 wants, who evidently wants nothing, is contented. 
 Diogenes in his tub couldn't surpass him. And I 
 say roundly, whoever makes him discontented does 
 him unspeakable harm. Whoever wisely aids him, 
 not dragging him out of his own station, but help- 
 ing him to become a good peasant-farmer, a good
 
 184 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 
 
 master-workman, a good corporal, if you will, is 
 his friend." 
 
 " How dare one say to any human spirit, ' Thus 
 far and no farther ? ' " murmured the girl, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " I have said nothing of the kind," returned the 
 major, dryly. " I've made no remarks whatever 
 to Franzl's spirit. I am merely regarding the 
 matter from a sober and practical point of view. 
 The problem is : how shall AVO best help a healthy, 
 hearty milk-boy to become an honest and happy 
 man ? " 
 
 " A milk-boy who has proved himself a hero ! " 
 
 " Precisely. Why not ? Are there not heroes 
 in the ranks ? But personal bravery is not suffi- 
 cient cause to make a field-marshal out of a pri- 
 vate. There must be privates, and small farmers, 
 and day-laborers, and all parts of the social 
 machine. Brave ? Of course they are brave. Do 
 I underrate them ? The braver they are the bet- 
 ter for the nation, which needs true men in all 
 classes. But it will be cruelty, not kindness, to 
 make that boy something for which he was not 
 meant. What is success, at best, for any of us ? 
 The sum total of a series of well-concealed fail- 
 ures. There's scarcely an ambitious man that
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 185 
 
 doesn't have to acknowledge to himself, after a life- 
 time of striving, that the game wasn't worth the 
 candle. You leave that boy to me. He shall 
 struggle with tools or the stubborn earth as he 
 will, but not with ideas if I can help it. Ideas 
 are fatal to a man such as he will be. They'll 
 make a vulgar agitator of him. Don't rouse his 
 ambition, which would be in his case but another 
 name for vanity. Let him remain simple and un- 
 spoiled. Don't modernize him. Don't pervert 
 him. I mean well by the boy. I know what I'm 
 talking about." 
 
 " It is the old question, papa," she said, gently. 
 " We have discussed it so many times." 
 
 " Yes, in general. Never before with a boy's 
 future in the scales." 
 
 " Of course, Doris, you will agree to think as 
 your papa does." 
 
 Doris laughed, went over to her father, stood 
 behind his chair, and kissed the middle of his 
 bald spot. 
 
 " Papa and I understand each other very well." 
 She put her arms round his neck, her chin on the 
 top of his head. 
 
 "That may be," he grumbled, "but if my 
 squadron were as badly drilled and insubordinate
 
 186 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 as my home regiment, I should be cashiered. 
 Will you or will you not leave that boy to me, 
 Doris ? Come around where I can see you." 
 
 " May I answer his questions ? " 
 
 " I have not the least objection. It is not his 
 head I fear, it is yours." 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 " You may go out to the farm, have him here, 
 make him feel free and comfortable with us all. 
 The more strongly he believes we are his friends, 
 the better I shall like it. I simply beg you to re- 
 frain from any attempt to change the current of 
 his ideas." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " Am I to interpret your ' Ohs ! ' and ' Ahs ! ' 
 and wise prophetic looks, and amused eyes and 
 little impertinent smiles as assent to my request ? " 
 
 " I agree to refrain from any conscious attempt 
 to change the current of Franzl's ideas. Mean- 
 while I understand that I am permitted to answer 
 any questions that he may ask me," she said, de- 
 murely. 
 
 "Conscious attempt? What does that mean, 
 slyboots ? " 
 
 " It means that I am very high-principled and 
 punctilious in making my contract with you. If
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 187 
 
 Franzl demands explanations of me, how can I an- 
 swer for ideas which my words may suggest ? " 
 
 He laughed good-hum oredly. 
 
 " Be tranquil upon that point. The boy's imag- 
 ination is not so inflammable as you think." 
 
 " May I give him books ? For instance, ' Greek 
 Heroes,' which he has at present ? " 
 
 " Oh, fairy tales won't turn him into an anar- 
 chist." 
 
 " That's your risk. Then it's a bargain. But 
 for how long ? " 
 
 "What ? Must I set limits to my experiment? " 
 
 "I should think it would be fair. Because, 
 papa, when you admit that you have failed, then it 
 is my turn, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Very good. When I admit that." 
 
 " Does a man ever admit that he has made a 
 mistake, mamma ? " 
 
 " I think not, dear. When we make mistakes 
 they explain them to us. When they make mis- 
 takes, we are expected to ignore." 
 
 " Come, come, 111 promise to be honest. But 
 you'll have to wait some time for my recantation," 
 he added with a chuckle. 
 
 " Your papa is right about the boy, Doris. It 
 would be disastrous should you interfere."
 
 188 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " But I have promised not to interfere, mamma. 
 I shall merely wait." 
 
 " Papa," began Hildegard, who had stolen into 
 the room, ashamed of her explosive exit, " every- 
 body is talking about Franzl and nobody lets me 
 speak, and I've thought of something perfectly 
 splendid." 
 
 "That's right, my darling. Out with your 
 scheme. I don't doubt it's better than your sis- 
 ter's. It is evident that we, one and all, wish to 
 pilot Franzl. Now, what's your idea, Hilde- 
 gard?" 
 
 " Franzl won't say what he wants, you know ; 
 and you are going to the manosuvre, you know ; 
 and when you come home it will be almost Christ- 
 mas, you know ; and if you would let him have 
 three wishes for Christmas, you know, he would 
 have time to think, you know ; and everybody 
 wants something at Christmas, you know, and that 
 would be splendid 
 
 " You know ! " concluded the major, putting his 
 arm around her. " That sounds like the legitimate 
 drama, Hildegard. You want me to play fairy- 
 godmother, don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I'll tell him what he wants." 
 
 "Child, child, you too! That's exactly what
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 189 
 
 you'll not do. How you all want to unfranzl 
 Franzl ! Even this baby is a woman at heart, and 
 intends to lead him a pretty dance. But if you'll 
 not tell him what to wish, I have nothing against 
 your little comedy. I should greatly like to give 
 him a pleasure, and as you say, he'll surely have 
 Christmas wishes." 
 
 " Then may I tell him, myself ? " 
 
 "Yes, and perhaps you'll succeed better than 
 Doris or I. If his wishes are reasonable and in 
 my power, he shall have them. I wouldn't dare 
 say as much to you or that rascal Kurt, but 
 Franzl's views are more modest." 
 
 " Is it a promise, papa ? " 
 
 " It's a promise, my darling." 
 
 " You hear, mamma ! You hear, Doris ! It is a 
 promise and it's my own thought, and I may tell 
 Franzl, myself." 
 
 "But not a hint, remember, otherwise I won't 
 play. I'll refuse to be godmother." 
 
 " No, indeed, papa. I wouldn't spoil the fun for 
 anything." 
 
 " Mind, you are not even to question him be- 
 forehand." 
 
 " Of course not. I'm not half so silly as I act." 
 
 " That's very encouraging, I'm sure, my dear. It
 
 190 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 would be well for many people if they could say 
 the same. Christian Lutz, for instance, although 
 'silly' might not be my choice of words to express 
 his animus. I saw him this morning." 
 
 " Oh, papa, why didn't you say so before ? " 
 Doris exclaimed. 
 
 " I wanted to plan the campaign first and crush 
 incipient rebellion." 
 
 " They crush best who crush last," she retorted. 
 
 " Isn't that silly too, papa ? " demanded Hilde- 
 gard, gravely. 
 
 " Undoubtedly. It is always silly to be saucy 
 to one's papa. Lutz is a donkey and incapable 
 of seeing beyond his own pasture ! He evidently 
 didn't want to talk with me at all, but I plainly in- 
 timated I didn't propose to ride up to Waldheiin 
 for nothing. I dismounted and kept one of his 
 men walking my horse up and down, and Lutz 
 finally consented to listen to me, because he saw I 
 meant to stay until he did. He wants the boy." 
 
 "Everybody wants Franzl!" cried Hildegard, 
 jubilant. 
 
 " I made no suggestion to shorten the boy's tune 
 with him. Franzl himself, with very proper feeling, 
 declined that, and aside from the fact that he ought 
 to keep his word, I don't want any sudden trans-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 191 
 
 planting of him. He must continue to take him- 
 self simply, and everything we do must be sober, 
 practical, and well considered." 
 
 " Do you know sometimes I detest the sober 
 and practical," Doris remarked, with a little shrug, 
 "and I don't think it is always very intelligent 
 either." 
 
 " It is clever enough for an old-fashioned man 
 like me, my dear. Lutz would agree to nothing. I 
 told him how strong an interest we feel in Franzl, 
 and what he had done for us. Lutz looked gloomy 
 and said it was bad for the boy. There is no 
 doubt he regards it as a personal misfortune that 
 Kurt didn't drown." 
 
 " The wretch ! " exclaimed Frau von Normann. 
 
 " I suggested gradually lightening Franzl's work, 
 and proposed an indemnity. Lutz declined, flatly 
 declaring nobody in his employ was ill-fed or 
 badly used, and Franzl's work was his affair. He 
 evidently wanted no interference." 
 
 "Peculiar, wasn't it, papa?" 
 
 " I told him I had plans for Franzl when his 
 time was out. Lntz retorted so had he, and as he 
 had taken the trouble and expense of bringing the 
 boy up from Ravensburg he had the first claim. I 
 assure you I was tolerably curt with the stubborn
 
 192 A BA1TLE AND A BOY. 
 
 old fool. He is selfish as sin, and hard as the 
 nether millstone. He intends to do with that boy 
 precisely as he thinks best, without regard for any 
 more enlightened opinion." 
 
 The major was so absorbed in his narrative that 
 he failed to observe his daughter's eyes and smile. 
 
 " School is in the bond. Franzl is to go in No- 
 vember. Lutz cannot help that, but he would if 
 he could. Still he is what they call a strictly 
 moral man, and he will keep his word. That sen- 
 sible little Leni came out and spoke up like a 
 man, and we together, by appealing to his cupidity, 
 obtained one concession. Franzl may go to the 
 Knabenhort every day, that is, to school in the 
 afternoon and then to the Hort from four to seven. 
 Leni urged that those last hours of the winter 
 days could easily be spared, and I pay well for 
 each hour. Fancy the heathen darkness of a man 
 in this age of the world, who if he could, would 
 prevent a boy from going to school, and condemn 
 him to a life not far removed from that of the cat- 
 tle he tends." 
 
 " It is incredible, papa ! " Doris said, soberly. 
 
 " It is shameful, it is barbarous," returned the 
 good major, with righteous indignation. " I do 
 not know if Franzl is really valuable to him, or
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 193 
 
 whether the boy's worth increases in proportion as 
 we show interest in him. But one thing is certain. 
 Old Lutz is bound to be as disobliging and churl- 
 ish as possible, and will do his best to keep the 
 child in his clutches after March. However, I'm 
 content with the results of my first mission. 
 Franzl will go to the Hort, and it will be an excel- 
 lent thing for him. If there is a charity that is 
 wise, healthful, doing good and harming no one, it 
 is this. There he will have a few hours every day 
 in a comfortable place, where he'll get something 
 to eat, learn his lessons, then read or draw or carve 
 wood, or play games, or do anything he likes. 
 And all the time, mind you, he won't be getting 
 notions into his head. Boys of his own class, 
 promising boys too, are his companions. At four- 
 teen they begin to learn a trade. They will know 
 enough and not too much. That's where Franzl 
 belongs, among his peers." 
 
 " I agree with you, papa. You cannot please me 
 more than by sending him to the Hort for the 
 present." 
 
 " I think," said Frau von Normann, " if you two 
 are going to discuss these things for an indefinite 
 time, Hildegard and I will go to drive and call for 
 Kurt. The dear boy ought not to walk too much
 
 194 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 to-day. I may make a few visits too ; I should like 
 to hear some interesting conversation," she added, 
 with a slight laugh. " I am sure I approve of 
 philanthropy as much as anyone, but it does get 
 very dull, morning, noon, and night. I have lis- 
 tened patiently to the chapters upon Franzl and 
 Lutz, but if you are now going to discuss the 
 Hort, I'd better retire. Why do you never talk of 
 people we know? Aren't our acquaintances fel- 
 low-creatures too? Why always these 'sons of 
 the soil?'" 
 
 "If you make visits this afternoon, my dear," the 
 major replied, smiling and lighting a cigar, "you 
 will come home with the most interesting hautes 
 nouveautes, and then it will be our turn to listen." 
 
 "I am flattered that you approve my course, 
 Doris," he resumed. "It is the best place for him. 
 It keeps the boys out of mischief. It is human- 
 izing, educating, comforting, and 
 
 " Conservative, I suppose you think," she added, 
 with a laugh. 
 
 " I trust so," he returned, devoutly. " The 
 director impressed me as a sensible man. I heard 
 none of your scatter-brained ideas down there. I 
 even went so far as to ask if they ever advance a 
 particularly bright boy to a higher school, and I
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 195 
 
 was informed to my immense satisfaction, my 
 dear little revolutionist that they had invariably 
 found such a step a misfortune for the boy." 
 
 Doris laughed merrily. 
 
 " Oh, I can hear that benevolent old owl answer- 
 ing you. ' Certain social prejudices, crystallized 
 as it were the solidarity of existing relation- 
 ships one might say the prevailing local ten- 
 dencies and inherent idiosyncrasies so to speak 
 combine to render it inexpedient to distinguish 
 one boy beyond his mates as it were or make 
 him, as one might say conspicuous.' " 
 
 "Witch!" 
 
 " That's what he told you, isn't it ? " 
 
 "Approximately yes, and very good sense I 
 thought it." 
 
 "Very good polysyllabic words, good mouth- 
 fuls ! " 
 
 " Perhaps you'll like him better when I tell you 
 that he knows every boy in the Hort, every face, 
 every family. To know nearly a thousand boys 
 individually requires special talent. Each even- 
 ing he visits one branch, on some days two. He 
 is devoted to the boys, and he declares although 
 they are from the very dregs of the people, 
 coarse enough, unmannerly and rough, he has not
 
 196 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 yet found one irreclaimably vicious nature, not in 
 the four years in which this thing has been in ex- 
 istence. He does not know among the hardest 
 cases one out-and-out bad fellow." 
 
 "I do like him. I think he is goodness itself 
 to give so much time and affection to the boys. 
 He is always lovely, and it's only in certain lights 
 that he is a lovely old fossil ! " 
 
 " How do you know him so well ? " 
 
 " I heard him talk to the boys of the St. John 
 Hort, when I went down to give them season 
 tickets to the swimming school. Then Herr Theo- 
 bald has spoken of him." 
 
 " Ah ! The director said Theobald came often 
 and was in high favor with the boys. He can do 
 anything he likes with them." 
 
 " Yes, he is kind," Doris said, coloring slightly. 
 
 " I am by no means sure that he has been kind 
 to me." The major looked keenly at her. " I 
 presume I have to thank him for a good part of 
 your philosophy." 
 
 " I think not," she replied, gravely. " He made 
 some things clearer to me, but he did not set me 
 thinking." 
 
 " Who did, then ? " 
 
 "You, papa."
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 197 
 
 " I? I was that scoundrel ? " 
 
 " Yes, you," she repeated, softly. " You are so 
 sure, so very sure how everything ought to be, 
 what people ought to believe in religion, how so- 
 ciety should conduct itself, how the poor should 
 feel and act, that at first I began to ask how does 
 he know, and then to wonder, and then to doubt, 
 and then sometimes to think the contrary." 
 
 " Is it possible that I am a dogmatic old fool ? " 
 he asked, in honest bewilderment. 
 
 "No, papa, you are a darling," Doris replied, 
 with considerable emotion in her low, loving voice. 
 " You are the dearest, best man in the world, and 
 nothing and nobody shall ever come between us, 
 you may be sure of that. We may think differ- 
 ently sometimes. That's no matter. Thinking 
 isn't loving. We don't love differently ; we love 
 alike and I love you dearly, and if I cannot always 
 do all that you expect of me, at least, I will never 
 do anything against your wish, no, not on any ac- 
 count, no, not for anybody ever ever ever ! " 
 
 As she leaned over him, he saw her eyes were 
 wet. She stroked his cheek in her caressing fash- 
 ion, kissed him warmly, and left the room. 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " said the major, staring blank- 
 ly at the door which she had closed behind her.
 
 xn. 
 
 ONE November afternoon, Franzl, with the air of 
 an infuriated bandit, walked into the St. John 
 Knabenhort. As in this particular assembly of 
 youths, a stormy brow and glaring eyes were the 
 rule and not the exception for new-comers, his 
 tragic manner caused no panic. The master, hav- 
 ing successfully tamed many a fiercer desperado, 
 had no misgivings as he motioned him to a seat. 
 
 He had come most reluctantly. At the very 
 door, indeed, he had seriously meditated flight, but 
 as he had let himself be persuaded by Fraulein 
 Doris and Leni and Herr Arno Theobald, and even 
 the major in full uniform, to at least go and see 
 what a Hort was, he decided he might as well face 
 the thing itself as those four persons, in case he 
 should run away. Still he did wish they would 
 let a fellow alone. With his heart in his boots, 
 feeling queer and shy, he gave a tremendous 
 knock as if he were Thor with his hammer, and 
 entered the cheerful room, dark and terrible like a
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 199 
 
 pirate chieftain, or a Corsican with vendetta in his 
 soul. 
 
 It was bad enough to have to go to school with- 
 out having to go to another school on top of it. 
 They all said it wasn't a school, but if it wasn't a 
 school, then what sort of a thing was it, that's what 
 he'd like to know, and that's what he intended to 
 find out. Glowering at the world in general, his 
 roving glance went on a voyage of discovery. 
 
 His neighbor on the right was a pale, fat, 
 dough-faced boy, overgrown, unhealthy, big, and 
 young. Franzl nudged him tentatively. The 
 child gave him a stupid stare and continued to 
 work at an example in simple addition on his slate, 
 where he persistently based his calculations upon 
 the original hypothesis that five and three are 
 nine. Franzl not finding him a foeman worthy of 
 his steel, peered curiously over the fat shoulder. 
 Spying the 9, he dived at it with a wet and ener- 
 getic thumb, making a fine smooch and whispering 
 " Eight, stupid, eight ! " Looking up, he met the 
 quiet smile of the master. 
 
 "That's queer," reflected Franzl. "They hit 
 you generally for less." 
 
 He now turned to his neighbor on the left, and 
 inspected him as if learning him by heart. He
 
 200 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 was a child with a hollow breast, claw-like hands, 
 and so big a head that Franzl contemplated it on 
 all sides with frank amazement. 
 
 The boy turned a pair of brilliant eyes toward 
 him and smiled like a girl. Franzl, concluding 
 not to nudge him, wondered why he had so many 
 veins. He was reading Schiller's " Robbers," and 
 on his slate were some algebra examples neatly 
 done and wholly unintelligible to his inquisitive 
 neighbor. 
 
 As the Knabenhort was nearly as gossippy as 
 court society, it was not many days before Franzl 
 knew why Artur looked so ill and had so many 
 veins, and that he was the cleverest boy in the 
 Hort, and had hip disease, and used to be well 
 enough until one day, when his drunken mother 
 desired to flog him with the end of a rope, he 
 being only a very little boy, was wild with fright, 
 and jumped from an open window of a third story. 
 When the director heard of him, he had been ly- 
 ing six weeks on his back in bed, with his legs 
 broken, and every day and all day he was alone 
 staring at the ceiling, until his mother, who was 
 not always intoxicated and who was very fond of 
 him in her sober intervals, came home from her 
 work at night. The director brought him a story-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 201 
 
 book, the first he had ever had. He did difficult 
 mathematical problems for amusement, and was 
 far beyond his age and school in all his lessons. 
 An inveterate reader, his taste in literature was 
 exclusively for romantic poetry and adventure. 
 Whatever was wild, exciting, improbable, replete 
 with action and life, in short of things which he 
 could never do and scenes most removed from his 
 mother's poor bare room and all that he knew best, 
 appealed most strongly to the lame boy. 
 
 Of many boys there, tales akin to Artur's family 
 history could be told and were well known to the 
 Director, although not in every instance of al- 
 coholic infelicity had an open window presented 
 itself before a frightened child, or hip disease ac- 
 centuated the catastrophe. Some boys, too, were 
 less excitable than Artur, and took their rope-ends 
 and other parental diversions stolidly. All in all, 
 they were good-looking boys. Some of them had 
 the pasty color produced by poor food and bad 
 air, many were frail, but others were defiantly rosy, 
 and their straight features and intelligent heads 
 would not have been amiss in more distinguished 
 families than those which produced them. Their 
 costumes were rather odd, the little coats, mostly 
 philanthropic offerings, were usually too big or
 
 202 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 too little, inclined to conceal hands, or to expose 
 over-much bony adolescent wrists. One boy 
 walked proudly about in a long dressing-gown 
 buttoned to the throat to conceal the paucity of 
 undergarments ; cuffs were not the fashion at the 
 Hort, but there was an evident struggle toward 
 the collar-ideal. 
 
 The room was warm, brilliantly lighted, a case- 
 ment was open, Franzl observed with satisfaction, 
 as he hated to be cooped up and had longed to 
 break a window-pane in the school-room that after- 
 noon. Now and then somebody, after speaking to 
 the master, went into the next room. Most of the 
 fellows had closed their school-books and put down 
 their slates, but Doughface, patient and content, 
 was still cogitating upon the conflicting theories 
 regarding five and three. Franzl wondered what 
 they were doing in the next room. The door was 
 open. It looked bright in there and he heard 
 voices. They spoke here, too, without reproof 
 from the master. Occasionally a little giggle bub- 
 bled up for an instant. Franzl had studied the 
 walls from ceiling to floor, all the pictures and all 
 the pegs, had discovered the boy that giggled, had 
 counted the gas-flames, the boys' noses, and was 
 beginning, with a friendly and interested expres-
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 203 
 
 sion to count Artur's veins, peering for this pur- 
 pose close in his face, when a voice said kindly to 
 Doughface : 
 
 "You'll get it, Hans. You have time enough. 
 Remember you got one out all alone last week." 
 " 5 + 3 = 8," he wrote across the top of the slate. 
 
 Franzl, no more given to self-reproach than a 
 bear's cub, could not help observing that the mas- 
 ter did not call Hans stupid. 
 
 "Artur, come to me when you have finished 
 that. I have a fine book for you and a puzzle. If 
 you get it out you will do more than I can." In an 
 undertone which Franzl heard, however. " When 
 you are tired, go into the office. There is no one 
 there and you can rest in the arm-chair. I'm going 
 your way to-night. Wait for me. I want to see 
 your mother." 
 
 Artur smiled his affectionate lingering smile, 
 said he felt very well, seemed on terms of easy 
 companionship with the young man, and buried 
 his big clever head in his book again. 
 
 " Come with me, Franzl," leading the way to 
 another room. " Knock at that window and ask 
 the matron what she has for you. You are 
 hungry, of course. I was always hungry at your 
 age."
 
 204: A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 As Franzl was accustomed to hear Christian 
 Lutz assert that boys ate more than they were 
 worth, that one boy could eat an honest man out 
 of house and home, and that boys were as bad as 
 ravening wolves, the master's tolerance toward the 
 cravings of appetite was an agreeable surprise. A 
 thick slice of rye bread and butter, and a glass of 
 milk disappeared rapidly in this benevolent atmos- 
 phere. 
 
 When he returned he was asked : 
 
 " Have you anything to learn for to-morrow ? " 
 
 " No, I did it in school. The sums were awful 
 easy. If you know how to reckon milk in your 
 head, you know how to do harder ones every day, 
 and the teacher read the Bible verse aloud, so I 
 know it." 
 
 " Then you may do what you like." 
 
 "What I like?" 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 " May I go home if I want to ? " 
 
 " Yes. Or if you like to stay, you may read, 
 may go in my room, may learn to draw or carve 
 wood, use tools, play games, or exercise in the gym- 
 nasium. All that we ask is that you don't inter- 
 fere with other people's comfort. In my room 
 some of the boys are studying still, so that those
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 205 
 
 who choose to read are expected to be quiet. But 
 if they prefer they can go into the tool-room, where 
 it is rather lively, and in the gymnasium they can 
 shout to their heart's content." 
 
 " There isn't any school about here anywhere ? " 
 asked Franzl, a trifle suspicious. 
 
 -No." 
 
 " Haven't you got a ferule ? " 
 
 " There isn't one in the whole building." 
 
 " What do you do when a fellow cuts up ? " 
 
 "Nothing. We have very little cutting up. 
 Why should a fellow cut up when he's happy and 
 amused." 
 
 "What would you do if a fellow wouldn't learn 
 his school-lessons here ? " 
 
 "Nothing. That would entirely concern his 
 teacher. We give every boy the chance to study 
 comfortably, but we don't compel him to learn. 
 Still he'd be foolish if he didn't, wouldn't he ? The 
 truth is, the boys do their lessons first as a matter 
 of course, and they know them better since they've 
 had the Hort." 
 
 " Wasn't there ever a fellow who wouldn't study 
 here ? " persisted Franzl. 
 
 " Oh, yes, several. One went into the gymna- 
 sium every evening for two weeks, and would not
 
 206 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 so much as look into the other rooms, but after 
 that he fell into the ranks." 
 
 " What would you have done if he hadn't ? " 
 
 " We should have let him dangle on the parallel 
 bars till this day." 
 
 Franzl laughed, much encouraged. 
 
 " The boys know that we try to make things 
 pleasant for them. It is natural they should 
 be willing to please us, isn't it ? It would be a 
 pretty mean fellow that would take all he could 
 get and give nothing in return, wouldn't it ? At 
 all events I have never found him, that is, after 
 one has taken the trouble to explain the situa- 
 tion." 
 
 " Do you like boys ? " asked Franzl, solemnly. 
 
 " Very much." 
 
 The boy contemplated him a while with a pene- 
 trating gaze, and at length said : 
 
 " May I go into every single room ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Will nobody stop me ? " 
 
 "Certainly not. They will all be glad to see 
 you. If you want to know anything, ask one of 
 the ushers. By the way, Franzl, I've heard a great 
 deal of you from some of your friends, and I re- 
 member seeing you several times at Herr Theo-
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 207 
 
 bald's. I placed you between Hans and Artur 
 because I knew you to be a kind boy." 
 
 Franzl's bold air vanished. He shuffled, in con- 
 siderable embarrassment. 
 
 " They are both ill in very different ways." 
 
 " Doughface too ? " Franzl asked, hastily. 
 
 " Yes, Hans too. They have been unfortunate, 
 but they are happy now. They like the Hort. 
 Artur is our best singer. You will hear him at 
 six. Hans is timid and a little slow. The boys 
 like to tease him, and Artur is so small and deli- 
 cate they jostle and hurt him unintentionally, 
 when they go scuffling through the corridors. 
 You look after them both a little, will you ? I 
 like to keep Artur till the last and take him home, 
 when I can." 
 
 "All right," Franzl agreed, cheerfully. "I'll 
 knock any fellow down that touches them." 
 
 " Not immediately, please," Herr Heinrich re- 
 turned, smiling, " and certainly not for an accident ; 
 but I give you leave to knock any boy down who 
 intentionally mocks Artur's lameness. I never 
 saw but one capable of such cruelty, and I think 
 he was sorry and ashamed after I showed him 
 what he had done. Now good-by for the present. 
 Amuse yourself. Bemember you have the right
 
 208 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 to go everywhere. It all belongs to you if you 
 choose to belong to it. You are welcome in every 
 room. Don't be afraid it's a school. It is more 
 like a boy's club." 
 
 The bread and butter and Herr Heinrich's affa- 
 bility had softened Franzl's aggressive mood, and 
 he was secretly flattered to have two boys put un- 
 der his protection. Still, in spite of the apparent 
 harmlessness of his surroundings, his previous ex- 
 perience of the relations of boys and men set over 
 them in any restraining and superior position, led 
 him to suspect an inimical element lurking in am- 
 bush, and he determined to thoroughly explore 
 the land. Taking Herr Heinrich at his word in 
 the most matter-of-fact sense, Franzl examined 
 every nook and cranny of the room in which he 
 now stood alone. Presently, somewhat to the sur- 
 prise of the matron, he climbed through her win- 
 dow and began his intelligent survey of the 
 kitchen. With a few trenchant inquiries, he as- 
 certained its end and aim ; that there were hun- 
 dreds of portions of warm milk and bread there 
 every morning for children who never got any- 
 thing at home before going to school ; that there 
 was soup at noon and night, and beef-tea all day 
 for invalids, and coffee in great quantities to sup-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 209 
 
 ply the carts some kind people were sending 
 about the streets to win men from grog-shops. 
 Franzl did not wholly understand the system 
 which she explained, but he received agreeable 
 impressions of the matron and her domain, which 
 he left, as he came, through the window. 
 
 His hands behind him, very grave and method- 
 ical, he proceeded on his tour of inspection, pass- 
 ing through Herr Heinrich's room, where that 
 young gentleman suppressed a smile at the im- 
 portance of the child's demeanor. 
 
 The usher in the second room was also amused 
 at the vision that appeared on his threshold, and 
 that subjected him and every boy and book to a 
 long, calm scrutiny before entering. Some of the 
 children snickered, but Franzl at the moment was 
 master of his fate. He sauntered about, if a move- 
 ment so dignified may be called a saunter, ab- 
 sorbed in his self-imposed task of verifying Herr 
 Heinrich's statements. They were thus far accu- 
 rate. Except a pleasant good-evening, the ushers 
 said nothing to him. The boys were studying, 
 reading, drawing, as in Herr Heinrich's room. 
 There were shelves of books, and a few pictures 
 here and there. 
 
 The next room was devoted exclusively to draw-
 
 210 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 ing, and the boys who came in here were taught. 
 If they preferred to draw as they pleased, and 
 Egyptian perspective to the modern kind, they 
 drew elsewhere. Franzl scrutinized master and 
 pupils, plaster-casts and drawings, with his im- 
 pressive air of special government-agent, and was 
 moved to ask, pointing at a cast : 
 
 "Who is that man?" 
 
 " That is supposed to be a head of Achilles," 
 the master responded, politely. 
 
 "I know him. He's in my book." 
 
 "Do you think you could draw him? " 
 
 "Yes," Franzl answered, without one modest 
 misgiving. " Perhaps I'll come in and draw him 
 some day," he added, affably, knowing no reason 
 why he couldn't do what other boys could. 
 
 " I should be happy to see you," the master as- 
 sured him. 
 
 He watched the boys in the tool-room some time, 
 and was persuaded there was a great deal here that 
 he could do better than anybody else. In the 
 gymnasium he longed to show those fellows his 
 jump, but decided to postpone his triumph, for it 
 pleased his fancy to regard himself as a critical 
 outsider at first and not to commit himself ; be- 
 sides, he was conscious of a desire to see what
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 211 
 
 Artur and Hans were doing. Satisfied with his 
 investigations, he walked back to Herr Heinrich. 
 
 " It isn't a school," Franzl informed him, judi- 
 cially. " I don't mind trying it, and I'll stay in 
 your room." He returned to his place. 
 
 Hans, after being many times helped toward a 
 more enlightened belief, had reverted to his 
 original theory that 5 and 3 are 9. Franzl, with a 
 fatherly air, seized the slate and rubbed out the 
 entire tottering mathematical structure. 
 
 " Here, Doughface," he said, amiably, " you just 
 do that thing right now. No use being all night 
 about it either." Hans, with his simple docile 
 smile began anew, his awkward fingers and dull 
 brain guided by his well-meaning, if imperious, 
 neighbor. 
 
 Heinrich left them to their own devices. He 
 knew that Franzl was won and poor little Hans 
 safe, the moment the generous, resolute boy as- 
 sumed protectorship.
 
 xin. 
 
 WITH an open book before him, Heinrich sat 
 looking at the little fellows, considering them in- 
 dividually and wondering where some, in whom he 
 could mark change and improvement from month 
 to month, almost from day to day, would end. 
 After his own day's work was done he spent three 
 hours every evening with the Hort boys, and they 
 had become more interesting to him than billiards 
 or the club. 
 
 He had appeared on this new field indifferent, 
 sceptical, and merely for a few weeks, at the ur- 
 gent prayer of his cousin, the director, who could 
 not find young men enough, or the right sort of 
 men, to interest themselves in his scheme. 
 
 The younger teachers of the gymnasium and all 
 the better public schools were, as a class, busy men 
 on small pay, who eked out their salaries by pri- 
 vate lessons, and had little time and less desire, 
 after teaching average boys all day, to devote 
 themselves to worse than average boys in the
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 213 
 
 Knabenhort. Socially, there were curious difficul- 
 ties. A duke may be careless of his worldly posi- 
 tion, but a small German official of any description, 
 never, and the young stiff-necked pedagogues 
 jealously claimed their prerogative to teach boys of 
 the better class Greek and Latin. Men from the 
 Folk's School, they asserted, should be summoned 
 to struggle with the roughest and most unprofit- 
 able little rascals in town. But the Folk's School 
 teachers had these boys all day and trained them 
 conscientiously, on the old-fashioned principle of 
 " spare the rod and spoil the child," as well as 
 that invective, hurled at the top of one's voice at 
 a youngster, is the only known method of driving 
 vulgar fractions into his head. How could they 
 then thrash and scold six hours a day, and at 4 P.M. 
 become calm and winning beings, actuated by 
 sentiments wholly at variance with their own tra- 
 ditions and training? With such problems the 
 good old director was greatly puzzled, until the 
 novel and bold thought occurred to him that men 
 not all day professionally occupied with boys, men 
 whose nerves were not weary and irritable, and 
 who had not learned to regard the species Small 
 Boy as a natural enemy, would be best able to cope 
 with the subtle difficulties of the Hort, the chief of
 
 214 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 which unquestionably was to make the boys like 
 it ; for if they did not like it they would not come, 
 and that was the end of the matter. School was 
 compulsory until they were fourteen, but the 
 government did not interfere with their right to 
 yell and hoot and fight and run about the worst 
 streets and alleys between daylight and dark, and 
 hang about dramshops, and inquisitively watch 
 the goings-on of their elders the worst possible 
 thing for their soul's health. 
 
 The director presented his views to the gentle- 
 men of the committee, who shook their heads and 
 foresaw failure, as gentlemen of committees are apt 
 to do when confronted with an innovation, forget- 
 ting that last year's innovation is this year's habit. 
 They were convinced that only the veritable ped- 
 agogue could appreciate the earnestness of the 
 undertaking and establish proper discipline. But 
 they finally agreed to let the director try his ex- 
 perimentpredestined they declared to failure 
 in one of the eight Horts. 
 
 He succeeded in pressing into the service his 
 relative, young Heinrich, an architect just estab- 
 lished, whose genius the world had not yet begun 
 to recognize to an absorbing degree, and whose 
 private income permitted him vagaries. His
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 215 
 
 friend Theobald, less blessed in this world's goods, 
 and at their solicitation, a few other young men 
 employed in coaching boys for various examina- 
 tions, came also when they could. Both had 
 proved successful in their new sphere, and the 
 Hort was conducted more and more according to 
 their ideas, which were not always those of the 
 committee, or even of the Director. The entire 
 council, for instance, discussed one whole evening 
 with much fervor the question of ferule or no fer- 
 ule, the majority being of the opinion that it would 
 be impossible without it to control youths used to 
 whacks from their cradles, at home and at school. 
 The young men listened to the arguments pro and 
 con with much the same feelings as if the point 
 under discussion were, in this nineteenth century, 
 whether the sun revolved round the earth or not ; 
 and they gained from the debate, if nothing else, 
 a stronger realization of the marvellous tenacity of 
 prejudice, impeding the action of good heads and 
 hearts. But after the wisdom of ages on the sub- 
 ject of the depravity of youth and the holy uses of 
 chastisement had been exhausted, Arno rose and 
 said briefly, that he would not attempt to reply in 
 detail to the director and gentlemen of the com- 
 mittee, but would merely call their attention to the
 
 216 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 fact that he and his friends were not teachers, or 
 men accustomed to beating small boys. They 
 were willing to undertake the work at the Hort, 
 provided they might be left free to exercise their 
 own judgment as to the discipline required. They 
 unanimously believed that these boys met with 
 sufficient roughness elsewhere, and that the Hort, 
 if successful, ought to be a surprise and contrast 
 to their daily life; that, in short, he and his 
 friends rejected the ferule. If it were insisted 
 upon, they begged to withdraw. 
 
 The gentlemen of the committee shook their 
 venerable heads again, differed among themselves, 
 and took considerable time to make up their 
 minds. They were honest and kind men who gave 
 their services and money to the Hort, and each 
 heartily desired its good, but if they had not sys- 
 tematically disapproved every modern idea, and 
 stood firm on their moss-grown platform, they 
 would not have been happy or felt that they were 
 doing their duty. They had had a goodly amount 
 of feruling themselves, they urged, and had thrived 
 on it, and lived to be old and respectable. 
 
 " You had homes as a counteracting influence," 
 Arno retorted. " These boys have not." 
 
 "What would you do if a big rowdy boy of
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 217 
 
 fourteen should insult you?" asked the director, 
 whose kind heart desired peaceful ways, but whose 
 traditions led him to base small hope on moral 
 suasion with beings whose morals were imper- 
 ceptible. 
 
 " I should probably put him out," replied Arno, 
 "but I require no little polished stick for that 
 purpose." 
 
 As candidates for work at the Hort were scarcely 
 to be obtained for love or money, the directors ac- 
 cepted the young men upon their own terms. In 
 four years no ferule had been used and no rowdy 
 boy ejected. Theobald's and Heinrich's youthful 
 pessimism and Weltsclimerz which they had fondly 
 believed was intellectual received a powerful 
 check in contact with the worst gamins of the city. 
 For gradually the conviction took possession of 
 the two students of boy-nature, that for the re- 
 demption of the world, the next best thing to cast- 
 ing the beam out of one's own eye is helping chil- 
 dren to cast the motes out of their eyes. 
 
 So-called charitable work with tough old sinners 
 is apt to prove in the long run, even to the most 
 perennially sanguine temperament, a weary and 
 heart-sickening task. There are too many dragons 
 to slay, and when with the best intentions one
 
 218 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 feeds, encourages and gives to the poor and needy, 
 one frequently discovers with dismay that one is 
 feeding and strengthening the dragons too. 
 
 But children are the future, children are hope 
 and promise incarnate. Children, by the grace of 
 God, have the right to receive gifts unquestioning. 
 The professional beggar and the professional court- 
 ier cringe and lie for small favors, but the child, 
 with wide-eyed indifference, deigns to accept love's 
 gift of a flower or a kingdom, and be he of high 
 'or low degree, has no gratitude in his soul. Why 
 should he ? Surely, if he finds himself by no fault 
 of his own on this planet, he may justly claim sus- 
 tenance, clothing, education, and some pleasure 
 too, until able to take care of himself. As to 
 gratitude, that is a cultivated attribute, attainable 
 by but a few choice spirits generally indeed 
 effervescent and utterly foreign to childhood, and 
 the childish. 
 
 The boys of the Hort marched in, then, and took 
 all that they could get, enjoyed themselves, and 
 were sturdily and honestly thankless. If there 
 was no gratitude, there was also no obsequious- 
 ness, and their unconsciousness of obligation had 
 its own dignity. They were told the place was 
 theirs ; they took possession. Instead of learning
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 219 
 
 their school lessons as before in cold, ill-lighted 
 rooms, amid the cries of peevish, ailing babies, and 
 the distractions of squalor, quarrelling, oaths, and 
 blows warmth, comfort, quiet, and cleanliness 
 were now provided for them. They adapted them- 
 selves to the change with the ease with which you 
 or I to-morrow would adapt ourselves to the balmy 
 influences of an inherited million. Food for their 
 stomachs and food for their eager, half-starved 
 minds were given them freely. They partook of 
 both simply, and as their right. Sometimes the 
 visiting clergyman told them they must be humble 
 and grateful. It is to be feared they profited lit- 
 tle from his exhortations. How could vigorous, 
 thoughtless young animals, good-natured enough 
 when let alone, fierce when attacked, perceive the 
 true meaning of gratitude and humility. 
 
 But they were, after all, quite as humble and 
 grateful as Kurt von Normann and his like. That 
 favored youth was not apt to shed tears of joy 
 over evidences of his parents' goodness, or to 
 thank Providence for his dinner. Why then 
 should one expect more delicacy from these little 
 fellows ? Why was it not their right to be taken 
 care of, and made happy, and trained into honest 
 men? Why, indeed, was it not somebody's duty to
 
 220 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 atone as far as possible for the disease and vice, 
 and hunger and cold that had hovered over their 
 cradles? For all their early years had failed to 
 show them of cheerfulness, honesty, and kindly 
 refining things. It would really seem that a well- 
 dressed, well - fed, well - educated man of easy 
 means who presumes to stand before such chil- 
 dren and instruct them that their first duty is to 
 be humble and grateful, is totally destitute of both 
 justice and humor. It would be more to the pur- 
 pose if he should take upon his complacent self 
 the burden of humility, and beg the children's 
 pardon for his share of their unmerited wrongs 
 and the world's gross neglect. 
 
 The young men learned much of the boys, grew 
 to like and believe in them, hence gained new 
 faith in human nature and courage for the work 
 day by day. There was roughness enough to 
 contend against, greed too, and astounding ignor- 
 ance, but nothing wholly disheartening. If the 
 boys cheated rather skilfully, they were no greater 
 adepts in trickiness than other schoolboys, and 
 like them were by no means perfidious, hardened 
 hypocrites, but responsive to kindness and reason, 
 administered in small doses and not in high- 
 sounding phrases. The softening influence of the
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 221 
 
 Hort, and the power of that subtle thing esprit de 
 corps on all these waifs and strays, exceeded the 
 most sanguine anticipations. Whoever expected 
 the boys to appreciate the trouble they were giv- 
 ing, to be sentimental, or to kneel and kiss their 
 benefactors' hands, were mightily mistaken. But 
 whoever reckoned upon their pride appealed to, 
 fairly, now for the first time ; upon their gregari- 
 ousness ; upon the social instinct of imitation ; 
 upon tho fact that if you accost the simple child 
 of nature civilly the chances are he gives a decent 
 answer, and that if you make yourself disagree- 
 able, he beats you at your own game ; upon the 
 intense satisfaction which children, rich and poor, 
 feel in being treated with deference ; upon their 
 natural pleasure in being fed, warmed, clothed, 
 and amused; and upon the affection and good- 
 heartedness of the average young boy, if one 
 knows how to approach him, was doomed to no 
 disappointment. 
 
 Heinrich's respect for his boys increased with 
 his knowledge of them. In retrospective and 
 prophetic mood he looked around to-night on 
 their bright busy faces, remembering how hope- 
 lessly coarse and bad many had seemed the first 
 day he saw them. He knew from what dens and
 
 222 A BATTLE AMD A EOT. 
 
 holes some had come. He recognized the incal- 
 culable force for good in rousing the self-respect 
 of the most seemingly depraved child and in not 
 curbing his sense of personal freedom, even while 
 suggesting the novel thought of the inviolability of 
 his neighbor's rights. There was much which he 
 and Arno longed to do which was not yet practica- 
 ble. But they worked unwearyingly to impress 
 upon these malleable souls that two and two make 
 four, not only on their slates but all through nat- 
 ure ; a simple but vast fact frequently ignored by 
 philanthropists, who in homilies to the poor pre- 
 fer to accentuate the virtues of submission and 
 content. 
 
 To endeavor to convince the parents of the 
 Hort boys that nothing happened without cause, 
 in them anymore than anywhere else, would have 
 been in vain, for they, while for the most part 
 without a breath of real religion or any conception 
 of moral effort, were hopelessly imbued with cant, 
 and ready enough with pious phrases to support 
 their ignorance and superstition. Either the Lord 
 was angry with them and punished them, not for 
 anything they had done, but from what in a man 
 would be called purely personal and arbitrary mo- 
 tives or " the Lord would provide," whether they
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 223 
 
 were lazy and profligate or not. Whatever their 
 trouble, whatever their transgression, they shifted 
 the responsibility upon the Lord's shoulders, and 
 expected Him to step in and make good their 
 fatuity and helplessness. That the exercise of 
 their intelligence and self-control would not be 
 displeasing to the Almighty, did not occur to them. 
 If they left a child just beginning to walk, locked 
 in a room alone with a lighted kerosene lamp on 
 a rickety chair, it was inscrutable Providence 
 that tipped over the chair, broke the lamp, and 
 burned the child. The father of one of the boys, 
 while strongly under the influence of grog, had 
 fallen from a scaffolding and been seriously in- 
 jured, and Heinrich heard him say it was the 
 Lord's will he should fall. Another man, con- 
 victed of three most aggravatedly brutal and cold- 
 blooded murders, informed the court that "he 
 would leave it all to the dear Lord." 
 
 It seemed worth while, then, with no discussion 
 of creed or dogma, to try to give the children of 
 such parents some sense of personal responsibility, 
 and to teach them something of the law of cause 
 and effect, not only among the grasses, the flowers, 
 and trees, the animal kingdom, the tides, and the 
 stars, but in their own physical and spiritual lives.
 
 224 A BATTLE AND A B07. 
 
 It seemed fair to suggest to them, that pain and 
 disease did not indicate God's wrath, but only 
 broken laws, and that He had breathed a spark 
 of His divine spirit into each of them, that they 
 should develop and not smother or stultify it. 
 
 As the boys were summoned to the music-room 
 Heinrich observed a little pantomime. Franzl 
 piloting Artur among the hurrying coltish throng, 
 pushed a boy of threatening size and proximity 
 most summarily out of the way, who turned with 
 an angry exclamation and uplifted arm, but seeing 
 Artur, understood and went quietly on. 
 
 " Ah," thought Heinrich, " if the world would 
 stop fighting and begin to take care of the chil- 
 dren, it would wake some morning after ages, it 
 may be and find its prisons empty."
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE Christmas-tree stood in the Normanns' 
 drawing-room and shone with enchanting effects of 
 color, and two hundred tapers already burned half 
 down. The mingled odors of the pine and of 
 choice roses floated in the warm air. The children 
 had given the servants their presents first, pranc- 
 ing down the hall with delightfully mysterious 
 packages to the group of men and women includ- 
 ing Leni waiting in joyous expectation scarcely 
 less than Hildegard's. She had presented her 
 papa with his slippers, tarnished with some hope- 
 less tears and precious drops of her thumb's blood, 
 and spoken the poem which she had learned for 
 him, and if there were queer stitches in the one 
 gift and queer slips in the other, Doris had come 
 to the rescue in both instances, and the little girl 
 was triumphant. 
 
 " Now, papa," she said, "every present is given, 
 everybody is perfectly terribly happy, and it's time 
 for Franzl's Three Wishes. Kurt has promised not
 
 226 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 to tease and interrupt if I'd give him my whole 
 box of chocolate." 
 
 " How could you be such a pig, Kurt ? " Doris 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " Chocolate makes her stomach ache," he an- 
 swered, indistinctly, his mouth full. 
 
 " And your own ? " inquired his father. 
 
 " Oh, mine aches anyhow on the day after 
 Christmas." He retired to a corner with his fatal- 
 ism, his goodies, and one of his new books. 
 
 " Why shouldn't the dear child have a little 
 freedom on Christmas Eve ? " urged Frau von Nor- 
 mann. 
 
 " Since the robber-knight is gorging himself, the 
 moment seems propitious," remarked the major. 
 " Let Franzl tell me what he wants." 
 
 " Not tell you what he wants, papa," remon- 
 strated Hildegard. " Anybody can do that. You 
 promised he should have Three Wishes. That's 
 quite another thing, don't you know that ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, my dear. I'll try to appreciate the 
 difference." 
 
 " Oh, I do hope he's got good ones. I always 
 thought they were stupid in the fairy-books. Do 
 you know what I'd have said for my first wish ? 
 * I wish that all my wishes would come true ? ' "
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 227 
 
 "But then there would have been no more 
 fairy tale," suggested Doris. " You would have 
 stopped it short. No more wishes no more mis- 
 takes no more happiness, no more story." 
 
 Hildegard looked puzzled. 
 
 " Oh but you see I didn't think of that 
 and if I'd been in the story I'd have wished it to 
 keep on forever and oh, dear me Doris, you've 
 mixed me all up ! " 
 
 " The philosophy of this discussion is too much 
 for Hildegard and me. It doesn't make us happy. 
 Leave us a few illusions, Doris. Bring on Franzl. 
 Where is the boy?" 
 
 " Showing his presents to Leni." 
 
 Hildegard danced down the hall and led him 
 back, books under one arm, warm woollen things 
 under the other, a noisy little clock in his hand, 
 rapture on his face, and a large prune in his mouth, 
 its brown decorations visible about his lips. 
 
 " Now, Franzl, what can I do for you ? " the 
 major asked, in an off-hand fashion. 
 
 "Oh, papa, that's not right," urged Hildegard, 
 much distressed. " You must make a speech and 
 everybody must be still even mamma." 
 
 " You see, Hildegard," said a muffled voice from 
 the corner, " I'm not the only one that spoils your
 
 228 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 circus. You'll have to bribe them all, and you'd 
 better hurry. The chocolates are more than half 
 gone." 
 
 " I forgot, dear. I'll try to be more imposing," 
 the major assured his little daughter. 
 
 "Franzl," she whispered, "put down those 
 things and wipe your face, won't you ? " 
 
 With evident reluctance, he deposited his treas- 
 ures on the floor near him and rubbed his sleeve 
 across his mouth. 
 
 Hildegard with her own handkerchief completed 
 the ceremony, and pulled him to the spot on the 
 carpet where it seemed to her he ought to stand, 
 dancing about him and giving him little approving 
 touches and pats. 
 
 Doris induced silence in the family group, and 
 the servants drew nearer. 
 
 The major rose and said, as gravely as possible : 
 
 "I have the honor to officiate as fairy-god- 
 mother this evening in response to the prayer of a 
 little person for whom I entertain feelings of 
 deepest affection, as well as profound respect for 
 her gentle thought of others." 
 
 " That's it ! That's the way ! " whispered Hil- 
 degard, pulling his coat-tails encouragingly. 
 
 " And I wish that my son and heir, who is stuff-
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 229 
 
 ing himself in the corner, were half as unselfish as 
 she." 
 
 Kurt gave a malicious and chocolate-y gurgle : 
 
 " Don't mind me, papa. You'll get off the 
 track." 
 
 " No, don't mind him," whispered Hildegard, 
 anxiously. 
 
 The major resumed : 
 
 " It is then at the request of my daughter Hil- 
 degard that I have agreed to grant Franzl three 
 wishes provided they are reasonable and in my 
 power. But if the method is hers, I may well add 
 that nothing could give me more pleasure than to 
 grant him the dearest wish of his heart. For he 
 has given me and mine our dear boy's life, and 
 our boy is unspeakably precious to us, and "- 
 meeting the glance of Kurt's wicked, satirical eye 
 " and and a great deal better fellow than he 
 looks to-night, at all events ! " 
 
 " Hear, hear, hurrah ! " called Kurt. 
 
 " Sh h ! " said Hildegard. 
 
 " I must express my appreciation not only of 
 Franzl's courage and manliness, but also of his 
 modesty, good sense, and " looking pointedly 
 into the corner " his complete absence of greed. 
 Few boys could or would have waited three
 
 230 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 months, knowing I was ready any day to gladly do 
 anything in my power for them." 
 
 " I know one that wouldn't," mumbled Kurt. 
 
 "Now, in order to make this ceremony long 
 enough and impressive enough to satisfy Hilde- 
 gard's severely classic and critical taste, permit me 
 to inquire if your wishes are in good running 
 order, Franzl? Have you prepared your part 
 of the entertainment ? " 
 
 " Not quite right, papa. It sounds almost as 
 if you were making fun," expostulated the little 
 voice at his elbow. 
 
 "I've got two of them ready," Franzl replied, 
 promptly. 
 
 "Two?" 
 
 "I don't think of anything else." 
 
 " You are an odd boy ! " 
 
 "Oh; I say, will you trade the third one?" 
 Kurt proposed. " I'll give you my sled for it for 
 half of it." 
 
 " I've got a sled," returned Franzl, majestically. 
 
 " What kind of a one ! " sneered Kurt. " An 
 old box. Mine's a double runner." 
 
 " O papa, tell Kurt to be still. He promised. 
 He doesn't belong in this at all." 
 
 "Kurt, you devote yourself to your own peculiar
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 231 
 
 joys. You can have no mortgage on Franzl's 
 wish, or play in Hildegard's theatre. You say 
 that you are ready to tell me two wishes, then, 
 Franzl. For form's sake merely, because Hilde- 
 gard likes me to be dignified, not because I doubt 
 you an instant, no one has suggested either or any 
 part of them to you, and you have mentioned them 
 to none ? " 
 
 "Nobody knows anything that I'm going to 
 say," Franzl declared, gleefully. 
 
 " Then, my dear boy, don't keep us any longer 
 in suspense. What is your first wish ? " 
 
 The major was conscious of not a little curiosity. 
 Hildegard, one flutter of excitement, would have 
 been best pleased had Franzl asked for a horse 
 with wings or a cap to make him invisible. Frau 
 von Normann, Doris, the guests, the servants in 
 the background, all fixed amused expectant eyes on 
 the child, while Kurt, with a superior man-of-the- 
 world smile, thought that if he were in Franzl's 
 shoes he'd make their hair stand on end. 
 
 Franzl stood by the tree and faced the room in 
 a state of rapturous and boundless excitement, not 
 in the least on account of the wishes he knew 
 very clearly what he had to say but because of 
 the joy of this wonderful Christmas, of the beau-
 
 332 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 tiful bright house and pictures and music such as 
 he was going to have when he was grown. He re- 
 membered his last Christmas and the tiny tree, 
 and his mother smiling and asking him if it 
 wasn't pretty and if he wasn't pleased, and sud- 
 denly dropping her head on the table and sobbing 
 as if her heart would break. The lump had come 
 several times that evening, he found himself so 
 often wishing that she could see his things. He 
 wished little puckery bundles didn't take such an 
 awful long time to grow into girls and sisters a fel- 
 low could speak to. Sometimes he wished Loisl 
 was as big as Fraulein Doris, and sometimes he'd 
 like her no bigger than Hildegard, and he wouldn't 
 mind if she were like Leni either ; but it was long 
 to wait for her to grow into a sensible kind of 
 family that a fellow could take comfort in. As he 
 remembered those ten pink toes, he smiled with 
 lingering fondness, his eyes raised toward the 
 frescoed ceiling like what he was going to have 
 by and by his whole presence beautiful, uncon- 
 scious, and free. 
 
 It was but an instant he paused to get his 
 thoughts straightened out which were tumbling 
 over one another in the queerest way thoughts of 
 home, of the Hort, of the farm, of all the people
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 233 
 
 he knew, the white procession, the brook at the 
 child-market, and Pauli's mother with the man's 
 hat on her head. 
 
 " I wish," he began in a clear, confident voice 
 and looking squarely in the major's eyes, " that 
 you'd let Leni have Karl, because they want to be 
 a family." 
 
 A suppressed frightened exclamation and the 
 hurried opening and closing of a door were heard 
 from the servants' group. 
 
 The major stared in astonishment at the boy 
 who, however, gave him no opportunity to respond, 
 but went on with calm truthfulness, every word 
 distinct and sweet : 
 
 "You'll have to get Karl some sort of a place, 
 you know, Herr Major. He's got to have some 
 kind of home ready for her. A gardener's place 
 she'd like best. But she doesn't care. She only 
 wants to be a family. She doesn't want meadows 
 or orchards or barns or cattle. She'd rather have 
 the smallest house, the smallest room with Karl." 
 
 " But, Franzl," stammered the amazed major. 
 
 " There's nothing Karl can't do," continued the 
 child, with his air of illuminated reminiscence. 
 " Her father can't find any fault with him except 
 he's poor. It was three years ago he turned him
 
 234 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 out of the house, that very night. It was about a 
 year ago he made up his mind she should marry 
 Andreas Klumpp. When she tells her father 
 Jenny's giving less milk, they look in each other's 
 eyes and see Andreas Klumpp. No matter how 
 hard and long work is, it comes to an end some 
 time, and you can draw a long breath and say, 
 'That's done, thank heaven!' but if it's inside 
 of you, if it's two people pulling in different direc- 
 tions under one roof, and each as tough as the 
 other, it's awful, it tires you out soul and body. 
 First he said November, and when she told him 
 she'd rather run away, then he said February. 
 The women said she'd better take Klumpp and 
 done with it and wear a decent face on her. What 
 did she want more than the biggest farm for miles 
 and miles ? As for Karl, she might as well give 
 him up first as last, for old Christian never 
 changes his mind." 
 
 " The deuce he doesn't ! " muttered the major, 
 laughing so hard that he had to wipe his eyes. 
 
 Franzl went on with the tenacity of the Ancient 
 Mariner. 
 
 "Andreas Klumpp is sixty years old, has the 
 palsy, a bald head, and one foot in the grave. It 
 isn't very lively at his house. Of course Leni
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 235 
 
 can't marry him when Karl is her real family and 
 young and pleasant-looking, with merry eyes, and 
 they are lovers. He came to work when he was a 
 little boy. Her mother loved him like a son. If 
 Leni can almost manage a whole farm year after 
 year when her heart is heavy, it is reasonable to 
 believe she could make a little room warm and 
 cosey and bright, if she felt hopeful and glad. It 
 was quiet that night, so she could tell me things. 
 Sometimes her mouth is sealed. Then she has 
 no one to speak to. If her mother had lived it 
 would have been different." 
 
 " Dear little Franzl ! " murmured Doris. 
 
 " Have you finished ? " asked the major. " Are 
 you sure you've reeled off all of it ? " 
 
 Franzl observed that they were laughing, but 
 did not trouble himself about a trifle like that, be- 
 ing too much absorbed in what he had had on his 
 mind, weeks and weeks. 
 
 " Yes, I think that's all, except perhaps you'll let 
 Karl be your gardener or something, because he's 
 only working in his cousin's vineyard now, and 
 perhaps you'd give them a little room. Leni is 
 tired of the fight, and Andreas Klumpp is like a 
 black shadow over everything, and Lutz is hard as 
 a rock, and she's worked as she's never worked
 
 236 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 before ; and when she knew how hard her father 
 felt toward her, she worked still better, hoping 
 to please him. Wherever a sharp eye, a willing 
 hand, and quick feet could help, they have helped 
 her father, and he knows it. The women may say 
 she's proud and stiff they do all the time, I 
 hear them but they can't say she doesn't work, 
 nobody can. He sees how she tries day and 
 night. But it's no use. He's got it into his head 
 his farm and Andreas Klumpp's farm must marry. 
 It makes Leni tired and awful old. She isn't 
 any older than Fraulein Doris, though she looks 
 miles older, Fraulein Doris is so white and soft. 
 It's work that ages women. She's only young 
 with KarL She wants to be young and happy a 
 little while with him. It isn't any kind of a fam- 
 ily if you marry a man with his foot in the grave 
 and the palsy. It's hard for an honest girl to dis- 
 obey her father. But if he turns her out she'll go. 
 She and Karl belong to each other. That's the 
 long and short of it. She and I have been friends 
 since the first day, and if she's had any comfort 
 since I came it's through me, and that's the truth. 
 She wanted me. She felt kind to me. She 
 thought a good deal about me. She believed I'd 
 bring her good luck, but perhaps that was only a
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 237 
 
 notion. She remembered how pleasant it was 
 when her mother was alive, and Karl was a little 
 boy and took care of the cows. Grown people 
 want their mothers too. A room would do, but I 
 think she'd like a house better." He smiled pro- 
 phetically at the carving and frescoes. " Quite a 
 small house would do for them. That's my first 
 wish," he continued confidently, stooping to take 
 up his clock. 
 
 " All of it ? " gasped the major. 
 
 " O Franzl, you are splendid ! You're a daisy 
 boy ! " cried Hildegard. " Such a beauty wish ! 
 Now, papa, it's your turn." 
 
 " I don't know that I've ever in my life been so 
 amused," said the major. 
 
 Franzl regarded him with solemn wonder. 
 
 " We laugh because it's a surprise, dear," Doris 
 explained. 
 
 " Yes, a great surprise," her father agreed, em- 
 phatically. "I did not anticipate this plunge into 
 a village idyl." 
 
 " But you promised, papa, and it is his wish." 
 
 "I promised anything reasonable and in my 
 power, my dear. This is an unexpected turn of 
 affairs. I must consider. Upon my word I'm 
 interested, I'm touched. It's astonishing what an
 
 238 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 unmitigated brute that sort of man can be. He's 
 what they call an honest man, a moral man, a 
 thrifty man ! And now he's going to sacrifice the 
 happiness of a good, faithful daughter, and all for 
 an idea a selfish, soulless, mercenary, stubborn 
 whim ! He's a hard man, a very hard man. It is 
 inconceivable ! " 
 
 With a fine crescendo effect he worked himself 
 up to a high pitch of virtuous indignation. 
 
 " It's not my matter. It's not a thing for chil- 
 dren to settle, obviously still 
 
 " But we like it, you know," cried Hildegard, 
 " we like it terrible much, it is so grown up." 
 
 " Are you going to let Karl be your gardener ? " 
 demanded Franzl. 
 
 The major reflected. 
 
 " The more I think of it the less I see any rea- 
 son why I should not give him a situation, pro- 
 vided he's a good man. I'm free to engage any- 
 body that suits me, am I not? I always need 
 extra help toward spring, don't I? I can take 
 Christian Lutz's son-in-law as well as anybody 
 else, can I not ? Of course I do not assume any 
 responsibility in respect of people's feelings and 
 matrimonial intentions, but that Lutz is an uncom- 
 monly disobliging, mulish fellow. He intends to
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 239 
 
 annoy me and oppose me, and it seems, to annoy 
 and oppose everybody else. It will be a healthy 
 thing for him to find out others can oppose too. 
 Upon my word I sympathize with the young peo- 
 ple. I'll do what I can. Unmannerly fellow, that 
 Lutz! I wish you'd heard him talk to me, or 
 rather not talk to me, perhaps I ought to say. At 
 all events, when he spoke, and when he didn't 
 speak he was equally obnoxious. Why shouldn't 
 that nice, modest, pretty girl Leni have the man 
 she wants ? Here, Franzl, here's my hand on it. 
 You've got me into curious business, but I'll try 
 Karl as under-gardener." 
 
 " And the house ? " 
 
 " It goes with the place." 
 
 " All right," said Franzl, with a satisfied smile. 
 " Of course I knew you would," he added, approv- 
 ingly- 
 
 "Thank you," returned the major. 
 
 " Now please, papa, make them be still again 
 for the second wish. Please shoo at Aunt Helene." 
 
 " Isn't one enough," asked Doris, with vague 
 uneasiness, " so good a one too ? Shan't we let 
 Franzl keep the other till next time ? " 
 
 " Why, Doris ! " exclaimed Hildegard, in con- 
 sternation.
 
 240 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Aren't you tired of it ? " Doris threw her arm 
 round her father's neck. 
 
 " Not at all, not at all, I'm just getting into the 
 spirit of the thing. I like Hildegard's variety- 
 show. That boy is priceless. My appetite is 
 fairly whetted for his next preposterously droll 
 idea." 
 
 "It is only I thought perhaps 
 
 " What is it ? Why, Doris, you are pale, aren't 
 you ? " 
 
 " It's nothing, papa, nothing that I really know." 
 She glanced hastily round the room. There was 
 no stranger there, only tolerably harmless aunts 
 and cousins. She had motioned the servants to 
 go out when Franzl began his harangue about 
 Karl and Leni. She stooped and kissed her 
 father's forehead." 
 
 " But Doris, if you please wouldn't interrupt ! " 
 Hildegard pleaded. "You can kiss papa any 
 time just when Kurt for once in his life is quiet, 
 too ! " 
 
 " Now Franzl, my boy," said the major, genially, 
 graciously, putting one knee comfortably over the 
 other, " what's the second one ? " 
 
 " I wish," the boy began, in the simplest, most 
 tranquil way, "that you'd please let Fraulein
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 241 
 
 Doris and Herr Arno be a family too, because she 
 likes him, she's always known him, he's awful 
 good to me and the other boys, and he's worth six 
 of Count Rosen, who is at the officers' riding- 
 school in Hanover, and head over heels in debt 
 mean debts too and there's going to be trouble 
 for Fraulein Doris when he comes back in the 
 spring. Down in Wynburg you are doing exactly 
 what they are doing up in Waldheim. It's a kind 
 of trade everywhere, and it's a sin to marry lands 
 and titles together instead of hearts ; but if you are 
 poor you haven't much chance. So I thought if 
 you would get Herr Arno a place, some sort of a 
 book-y place, I suppose, it would be a great deal 
 pleasanter, and then Fraulein Doris and he needn't 
 be wishing for something they can't get, quite 
 like Karl and Leni. It must be uncomfortable to 
 be always wishing and wishing," he concluded, 
 easily. 
 
 The major had given a start and risen with the 
 child's opening words, but Franzl was not light- 
 ly turned from subjects which he had revolved 
 months in his busy mind. What he had come to 
 say, he said, and as to people's looks, there was a 
 great deal in this respect which he found queer but 
 unimportant if they laughed or glared at him it
 
 242 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 didn't seem to make much difference, since he 
 didn't know why, and they always stopped sooner 
 or later. 
 
 " Doris ! " the major said, with sternness. 
 
 " It's quite true," the girl replied, bravely. 
 
 "You did not " 
 
 " Know ? Oh, papa, could I do such a thing ? 
 I suddenly felt feared what he would say." 
 
 " My family affairs," he muttered, staring with 
 haughty incredulity at everybody except the cul- 
 prit. 
 
 "Dear papa, come with me, come into your 
 study, and mamma too. The dear little boy 
 meant no harm. Don't be vexed with him. It 
 won't be worse when we've spoken of it. Perhaps 
 it will be better. Come," she murmured caress- 
 ingly, slipping her arm in his, her voice somewhat 
 tremulous, her face sweet and resolute, and turn- 
 ing on the threshold to smile at Franzl. 
 
 Left to themselves, the children held high car- 
 nival. 
 
 " Oh, you do it splendidly," Hildegard assured 
 her chief orator and actor, pirouetting wildly about 
 him. "It has gone off even better than I ex- 
 pected. Because the wish ought always to make 
 adventures, you know ; and when Beauty said she
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 243 
 
 wanted only a rose, she got everybody into trou- 
 ble, and you've made Doris cry, and mamma purse 
 up her lips, and papa terribly angry, and they are 
 in there having secrets ; and it's splendid fun, and 
 of course Arno's millions nicer than Count Rosen ; 
 and oh, Franzl, you are such a terrible nice little 
 boy ! " 
 
 While Kurt produced his entire repertoire of 
 grimaces to do justice to the moment, and laughed 
 uncontrollably at what he called Franzl's ' trap to 
 catch a sunbeam,' and rolled on the carpet and 
 kicked his baronial legs as a relief to his feel- 
 ings. 
 
 " Why, Franzl, you have told him to his face he 
 was like old Lutz trading his daughter, and the 
 joke of it is I don't see how he's going to get out 
 of it. You beat me even at impudence. But I'm 
 with you so far as Arno is concerned." 
 
 "I don't think you act very sensible," Franzl 
 calmly observed, trying to take his clock to pieces. 
 
 " I don't want to act sensible. Anybody 'd be a 
 fool who was sensible after hearing you and papa. 
 ' And what is it now, Franzl, my boy ? ' says papa, 
 smirking as bland as you please, and off goes your 
 bomb ! " 
 
 " Well, if I had to wish, why shouldn't I wish
 
 244 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 what I did wish?" Franzl demanded, hotly. 
 " What are you grinning about, anyhow ? " 
 
 " At papa, papa ! " Kurt called, frantically. 
 " I'm laughing at him and I can't stop if I die for 
 it. And I'm not afraid of you, Franzl, you know, 
 but it's no use quarrelling with me to-night, when 
 I've laughed till I'm weak as a rag and you can 
 batter me and drown me and make an end of me 
 in no time, easier than ever." 
 
 " And you are full of my chocolate up to the 
 throat, too," remarked Hildegard, with asperity. 
 
 " I don't care when grown people laugh," Fraiizl 
 said, watching him, suspiciously. " They are al- 
 ways laughing when nobody knows why, but you 
 make me mad." 
 
 " Kurt is a terrible tease, you know, but he isn't 
 laughing at your wishes, really. He thinks they 
 are splendid. He never could have thought of 
 them himself." 
 
 " No, I couldn't ! " roared Kurt, breaking out 
 with a fresh paroxysm. " Nobody could ! Oh, it's 
 daisy it's daisy ! ** 
 
 "It will all end right, you'll see," Hildegard 
 said, joyfully ; " and we've made the story, and 
 there are two pairs of them." 
 
 " I'm acquainted with lovers," Franzl returned,
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 245 
 
 loftily. " I used to see them in the Venter 
 Thai." 
 
 It was long before the family council adjourned. 
 The tapers had burned low, the children sat on 
 the floor chatting in drowsy, intermittent fashion, 
 when the door opened and they sprang up, ex- 
 pectant. 
 
 Doris was pale, wet-eyed, but radiant. 
 
 The major came straight to Franzl and stood a 
 few moments looking down with curiously conflict- 
 ing emotions before speaking. 
 
 " My friend you small but formidable man I 
 have concluded to grant your second wish. My 
 daughter, with considerable effort, has succeeded 
 in convincing me that it is reasonable and in my 
 power. You seem to be strangely involved in the 
 fate of my family. I shall never forget, I trust 
 not one of us will ever forget, that your fate, so far 
 as human power can shape it, concerns us vitally 
 our honor and our faithfulness." 
 
 He paused, smiling rather sadly on them all. 
 
 " I don't know whether you have made me win 
 or lose to-night children. I hope it is all for the 
 best." 
 
 " Why, of course," piped up Hildegard, reassur- 
 ingly. " This is exactly the way it ought to be."
 
 246 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 "It is very sudden," remarked Frau von Nor- 
 mann, plaintively, " and trying." 
 
 Doris stooped quickly and kissed her hand, 
 whispering, with a mischievous smile : 
 
 " He is so very fond of Kurt ! " 
 
 " Cheer up, papa," said that young gentleman, 
 " it's an awfully good joke, you know, but you are 
 marching out of it with flying colors. I'm proud 
 of you, and I vote for Arno every time." 
 
 " Let it be said I have surrendered, after some 
 pretty hot skirmishing surrendered to youth. It 
 has proved too strong for me. And, Franzl, I feel 
 grateful that you have been generous and not ex- 
 erted your power to its utmost limit that you 
 have tempered justice with mercy. I don't think 
 I could bear another of your clever surprises to- 
 night. I'll put that third wish down to your 
 credit. I shall be relieved if we postpone it to an 
 indefinite future." 
 
 " I don't mind," returned Franzl, sleepy but dig- 
 nified, and stretching himself to his extreme dimen- 
 sions always his instinct when he stood near the 
 tall major. " I don't want anything more just now. 
 When I do, I will tell you if I can't get it my- 
 self."
 
 XV. 
 
 ONE hundred and twenty boys with their clean- 
 est faces, their straightest backs, and their hair 
 brushed till it stood on end with amazement, sat 
 in long rows in the music-room of the St. John 
 Hort. Now and then an inconsequent grin flick- 
 ered along the line of preternaturally solemn coun- 
 tenances. The shuffling of legs inevitable in as- 
 semblies of boys, whether of blue or some other 
 shade of blood, and doubtless inherent in the nat- 
 ure of the animal, was a prominent feature of this 
 occasion ; but if the bases of the little human col- 
 umns were frisky, the shafts and capitals held 
 themselves with imposing rigidity. It was rare 
 that a giggle of the smallest dimensions broke loose, 
 and any such impropriety was frowned down and 
 suppressed by common consent. A child who was 
 seized with a nervous tickling in his throat, and 
 for his life could not help coughing occasionally, 
 was promptly signalled what would happen to him 
 upon leaving the building. Altogether, distin-
 
 248 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 guished sentiments prevailed in the Hort that 
 evening, punctilious observance of the amenities 
 of good society, so far at least as such mysteries 
 had been penetrated, and an uncompromising de- 
 termination to show to the world that the Hort 
 as a body had nothing to learn in respect of con- 
 duct appropriate to a Christmas festival. 
 
 The solid integrity of the Hort's demeanor was 
 all the more praiseworthy because subjected to 
 constant temptation. Kurt von Normann, sitting 
 among the patrons and spectators, and shuffling his 
 feet with as much animation as any rag-picker's 
 son, devoted himself assiduously to the task of un- 
 dermining the virtuous gravity of the juvenile as- 
 sembly, and even made faces behind the broad 
 backs of church dignitaries. While Hildegard, 
 with her long fair hair, white hat, ostrich plumes, 
 and white fur coat was a distracting vision and 
 set no better example of repose of manner than a 
 humming-bird. 
 
 Two tall pines with lighted tapers and glittering 
 gewgaws stood on a platform at the end of the 
 hall, and upon long tables were one hundred and 
 twenty books, one hundred and twenty little 
 mounds of cakes and fruit, and one hundred and 
 twenty brown packages, each containing a box of
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 249 
 
 writing and drawing materials and three coarse 
 printed pocket-handkerchiefs. As handkerchiefs 
 do not grow in gutters, and few boys of the Hort 
 had ever owned a story-book, and the value of all 
 mundane things depends upon the point of view, the 
 princely munificence of these gifts was destined 
 to make many hearts beat high. Speaking with 
 historical accuracy, there were but one hundred and 
 nineteen boys present. The one hundred and 
 twentieth was grumbling at home with a broken 
 arm and some bruises, the result of over-ambitious 
 and forbidden efforts on the high trapeze in the 
 absence of the teacher. 
 
 There was also handsome presents for the Hort 
 as a community, additions to the library, to the 
 games and tools, and a few good engravings. In 
 the background sat such parents as could be pre- 
 vailed upon to come Artur's mother quite sober 
 and respectable the majority pleased and proud 
 of their children. 
 
 The ceremonies were a compromise between old 
 and new methods. The young men agreed to de- 
 fer to the conservative taste of the Committee in 
 the opening exercises, provided they might be free 
 to say what they pleased later. The programme 
 then was conventional and edifying, beginning with
 
 250 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 a few introductory remarks by the director, who 
 stated the province and scope of the Hort, its grati- 
 fying success, the services and merits of the gen- 
 tlemen of the Committee, all of whom looked 
 bland and complacent at the tribute to their be- 
 nevolence. Some of them responded by compli- 
 ments to the Director, and there was considerable 
 mutual felicitation interchanged by the grown boys 
 before they deigned to consider the little boys 
 sitting there in an inward fever of impatience, yet 
 heroically straining after good behavior. 
 
 During a very long extempore prayer the res- 
 tiveness of the two hundred and thirty - eight legs 
 increased to an alarming degree. It was as if they 
 were on the point of taking to their heels, despite 
 the stolidity of the faces above them. The legs 
 evidently longed to skip about the streets in the 
 freedom of the crisp December night. But mixed 
 sentiments faint new-born glimmerings of re- 
 spectability and pride, as well as pleasing visions 
 resulting from a sly cock of one eye at the brown 
 packages, during prayer - time, were not without 
 influence, and heads won. Ornate remarks by 
 different gentlemen followed the prayer, and a 
 deal of well-meant advice to the boys. The vis- 
 iting clergyman informed the weary, impatient lit-
 
 A BATTLE! AND A BOY. 251 
 
 tie fellows whose young lives knew blows, profan- 
 ity, hunger, and cold better than food, kindness, 
 and decency, that discipline was necessary to 
 moral growth, and that even their kind Heavenly 
 Father, like their earthly parents, chastised them 
 for their good. As a living example he mentioned 
 their absent comrade, whom he declared God had 
 especially punished for disobedience, breaking his 
 arm and depriving him of the Christmas-feast be- 
 cause he had disobediently ventured upon the 
 high trapeze five minutes before the arrival of 
 the teacher. The clergyman furthermore recom- 
 mended them to fear God, honor the king, and al- 
 ways be contented in the station in which they 
 found themselves. 
 
 His words were rather long, his phrases com- 
 plex, his voice smooth and monotonous, so that 
 the majority of the boys, already fatigued by the 
 preliminaries, did not listen with closest attention. 
 They had heard it all very often too. The one 
 idea which they clearly received was that God was 
 very angry with Max. It must be true, for a cler- 
 gyman with a long coat said so. It did not seem 
 in any respect surprising, for in their experience 
 somebody was always angry, whatever boys did, 
 and except at the Hort authority and power
 
 252 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 were addicted to the administration of corporeal 
 punishment and things were frequently broken ; 
 sometimes the stick, sometimes a part of the boy, 
 it didn't matter much which. Still Max was a 
 good fellow, and the best gymnast among them, 
 and there was not a healthy Hort boy who, pro- 
 vided he got the chance, was not ready on the in- 
 stant to attempt what Max had attempted. As to 
 punishment, whether human or divine, they had al- 
 ways been hit and hurt physically, but it would 
 never occur to them on this account to abandon 
 their circus-tricks. 
 
 After the Committee and patrons had enjoyed 
 their own fluency for some time, and told one an- 
 other how wise, philanthropic, progressive, large- 
 hearted, public-spirited, etc., etc., they all were 
 the boy with the dressing-gown like old Grimes's 
 coat, all buttoned down before stalked superbly 
 into the foreground, and spoke his piece in unim- 
 peachable sing-song. The boys revived and felt 
 that their turn had finally come. Artur limped up 
 to the platform, stood by the piano, turned toward 
 the guests his pale wizened face and the luminous 
 intensity of eyes that looked as if they already saw 
 into the Spirit Land, and unmoved by the presence 
 of strangers, his strong, sweet soprano led his com-
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 253 
 
 rades. And how the dregs and slums sang ! Like 
 glad angels, like pure joyous beings ignorant of sin 
 or pain, yet with that most touching quality which 
 haunts the fresh voices of young boys. 
 
 More recitations followed, stirring tales of 
 knights and kings, of brave deeds and high 
 thoughts told by golden-tongued poets to the world, 
 and interpreted by these little men according 
 to the individual receptivity. One after another, 
 awkward and ashamed, in their queer clothes 
 baggy or pinched as the case might be, but usually 
 made for some other boy's angles they marched 
 up to the platform and spoke, some with a dull 
 hang-dog mumble, others with a certain dash and 
 freedom in the wrong place, few with any trace of 
 comprehension and sympathy; yet the memory of 
 Goethe and Schiller was not desecrated by their 
 stumbling efforts. 
 
 Franzl came up last. He had learned Schiller's 
 " Hostage." It was long, but his omnivorous mem- 
 ory devoured the twenty stanzas of seven lines with 
 little effort. He did not know that it was hack- 
 neyed, and he could tell its tale of heroic friend- 
 ship with great swing and warmth, as if he had 
 discovered it. He had made his newly acquired 
 bow, and was on the point of beginning, when
 
 254 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 Arno motioned him to wait and Major von Nor- 
 mann came forward, to the ecstasy of the Hort. 
 Every eye gleamed, and it must be confessed the 
 rascals paid keener attention to each button and 
 stripe of his uniform than to all the advice and 
 admonitions thus far showered upon them. 
 
 " On the part of his Majesty the King, I have 
 the honor and happiness to present to my young 
 friend Franzl Reiner a medal rarely bestowed 
 upon a child, nobly merited in this instance by 
 Franzl, who risked his life to save the life of a 
 boy who was not even his friend." 
 
 At a gesture from his father, Kurt came forward 
 and attached the shining silver medal to Franzl's 
 jacket, and Kurt's worst enemy must have admit- 
 ted that he officiated in this ceremony with evi- 
 dent heartiness, and a most gentlemanlike bearing, 
 while on his face was an expression of thoughtful- 
 ness and affection much more becoming than his 
 habitual contortions. His virtuous intervals never 
 were of long duration, however, and having distin- 
 guished himself for three minutes, he gave Franzl 
 a slap on the back and whispered : 
 
 " Now spout, old fellow ! " 
 
 But Franzl could not, for the boys were cheer- 
 ing and everybody was coming to shake hands
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 255 
 
 with him and crowd about him, and he never felt 
 so bewildered in his life. 
 
 " What does it all mean? " he asked Arno. 
 
 " That you are decorated for bravery." 
 
 Franzl was prodigiously excited. There was 
 the medal, and the King had sent it, and the 
 King's head was on it, but he knew he could not 
 help diving for Kurt when he didn't come up 
 again. The ladies and gentlemen, all talking at 
 once, confused him. He did not feel happy or 
 clear in his mind about anything. He wanted to 
 rush out of sight, but there was his piece. He 
 was proud of saying the longest one, and knew 
 he said it well. 
 
 Presently there was silence. He found himself 
 alone on the platform. The ushers had reseated 
 the guests. The boys' tumult had subsided. 
 Arno nodded to him to begin. 
 
 But where was the poem ? He stared at the 
 ceiling, at the floor, at the famiKar faces. He 
 could not think of one word. 
 
 A friendly voice gave him the title and first 
 line. Useless. It was gone, quite gone. His 
 memory, the pride of the Hort as much as Max's 
 muscle and Artur's voice, had deserted him. 
 
 He saw the rows of boys. They did not laugh.
 
 256 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 It was terribly still. Hildegard gave an audible 
 sob. He caught Kurt's eye. It was indeed an 
 awful moment if Kurt von Normann's mocking 
 face could wear that look of consternation. 
 
 Franzl's knees shook under him. He heard his 
 heart beating in his ears. It seemed to him all 
 was lost. He longed to run away where nobody 
 would ever find him, but his feet were glued to 
 the floor. Surely he had stood there years. 
 Heinrich spoke, but Franzl could not understand. 
 His throat felt parched. He moved his hand 
 toward it mechanically and touched the medal. 
 His stage-fright suddenly turned into hot wrath. 
 If they hadn't given him that old medal he 
 wouldn't have forgotten his piece. Something in 
 the very heart of the boy rose up with dogged de- 
 termination not to be beaten. He threw back his 
 head and looked at them all, yet at no one. 
 
 " Give me five minutes," he cried, with desper- 
 ate, passionate energy, "only five minutes and 
 I'll say it every word ! " 
 
 With a stag-like bound, he was out of the 
 room, followed by the frantic cheers of the Hort 
 boys, and a great stir of sympathy among the vis- 
 itors. Arno and Heinrich were instantly with 
 him. He did not reply to them, gave but one
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 257 
 
 swift glance at the open book held toward him, 
 saw no words, only the familiar look of the lines 
 and white spaces, drew a deep breath, smiled 
 rapturously, sprang back to his place and began 
 his poem, his voice clear and confident as he 
 went on losing himself more and more in the 
 brave tale. 
 
 When he had finished and the boys yelled with- 
 out rebuke, and the people crowded round him 
 again and shook hands with him, and some of the 
 ladies laughed in a queer kind way, he thought it 
 was because he had said his piece so well, and 
 was vastly elated, and resolved to learn one twice 
 as long for next time. 
 
 Arno ought properly to have spoken now, but 
 he thought the children had been held uncon- 
 scionably long in leash, and he chose to let them 
 loose upon their goodies and brown packages in- 
 stead of haranguing them. A full hour passed in 
 which they ate and gloated over their presents and 
 were happy and unconstrained, and certainly very 
 harmless, while now and then somebody played 
 or sang without interrupting the joyous hum. 
 Many of the visitors had gone when some of the 
 older boys cried : " Herr Arno promised us a 
 speech."
 
 258 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 " Your fun is better than my speech." 
 "No, no," the Hort protested. "We like your 
 kind of talk." 
 
 The smallest boys were summarily seated and 
 the chattering ones effectually silenced by a self- 
 appointed police force. In a few moments the 
 room was still, every boy in his place, every eye 
 raised toward Arno, who, in a kind, quiet tone, 
 began:
 
 XVI. 
 
 " BOYS : Perhaps you think when we hear mu- 
 sic, that we all hear it alike. We do not. We all 
 hear the sound, but there is a music within the 
 music which some hear better than others ; while 
 a deaf man does not know what he misses when 
 the birds sing, and the wind sweeps through the 
 pines as we used to hear it on our tramps in the 
 woods last autumn. Perhaps you think that when 
 we look at that picture of Sir Walter Scott and his 
 dogs, our eyes see it alike. They do not. We 
 all see the frame, the glass, the figures, but there 
 is a meaning in the lines revealed to some more 
 than to others ; while a blind man can never know 
 how the purple dawn chases away the night, and 
 how tender and beautiful the sunset makes our 
 valley and our hills. A man destitute of the sense 
 of smell would care less than we for our violets 
 and mignonette and lilies-of-the-valley, that we 
 love and tend under our windows every spring, 
 and that send their sweet breath through our
 
 260 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 open casements until the whole Hort is full of fra- 
 grance. 
 
 When great men, like Goethe and Shakespeare, 
 speak to us, again we do not hear alike. We all 
 hear the words, but there is something we do not 
 seize. Their inner thought, their spirit does not 
 reach us all. If it did it would make us happy as 
 a Beethoven Symphony does some of us, as that 
 copy of the Sistine Madonna does others. And if 
 we could comprehend all that these great souls 
 mean, then, in one sense, we should be as great 
 as Shakespeare and Goethe and Beethoven and 
 Raphael. According as we understand and feel 
 them, are we near and like them ; for this we need 
 the eyes behind the eyes and the ears within our 
 ears. 
 
 When a man is blind or deaf, it is sad to think 
 how much of this beautiful world he loses. It is 
 sadder still if his inner eyes are blind, his inner 
 ears deaf; if, with no physical defect, he is un- 
 moved by the music we love, by the noble lines of 
 " The Dying Gaul," which I showed you in the 
 Art Gallery, by the great Titian we saw to- 
 gether, by the lofty columns and vaults of the 
 cathedral, or by deep thoughts such as you have 
 repeated in your poems to-day. He is the most
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 261 
 
 wretched of men, and he does not know what he 
 misses in our wonderful world. 
 
 Boys, we cannot all sing like Artur, and some of 
 us would never be musicians if we should study 
 music all our lives ; but most of us can learn each 
 day to care more for and understand better what 
 he sings and the sweetness of his voice. We can- 
 not all draw as well as Paul, but we can become 
 more appreciative of his work. We cannot all carve 
 as cleverly as Bobert, but we can learn to estimate 
 more highly his diligence and skill. We cannot 
 all lead in the gymnasium like Max, but we can 
 admire his courage, strength, and suppleness, and 
 the patience he shows each day in his regular ex- 
 ercise. We cannot all memorize as fast and easily 
 as Franzl, but we can take pleasure in his ability 
 and learn, as he will learn, to love more strongly 
 and comprehend better the beautiful things he re- 
 peats to us. We all have not Otto's knowledge of 
 insects and birds and plants, and his loving way 
 of understanding their habits and needs, but the 
 closer we sympathize with his intimate acquaint- 
 ance with the humblest weed and moss and twig, 
 the better for us. Few of us are so gentle and 
 harmless as our little Hans here, but if we grow 
 less rough and imperious and jealous, we imitate
 
 262 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 him in the quality in which he surpasses most of 
 us a forgiving spirit. So day by day, as we go 
 on doing our own work and rejoicing in our com- 
 rade's, we shall find that our inner eyes and inner 
 ears which perceive beautiful sights and sounds 
 are developing all the time, until we discover hap- 
 piness on every side that is hidden from us now. 
 
 Boys, once we lived in caves and jungles. By 
 " we " I mean the human race, our ancestors, in 
 far; far-off times. We were like brutes, but there 
 was something divine in us, something that made 
 us wish, something that was not content to live 
 like the beasts of the field. We wished to defend 
 ourselves against the wild animals ; we tore down 
 branches of trees for clubs and seized sharp stones 
 for weapons. We were cold and struck fire by 
 rubbing sticks together. We wanted to sail on a 
 river, we hollowed out a tree and made the first 
 boat. When we began to use these things for our 
 needs, that was the beginning of science and art. 
 If we had not wished and worked and struggled, 
 we should be living in caves to-day, provided we 
 were living at all ; but if we had not used what in- 
 telligence we had, the beasts would have devoured 
 us, because they were the stronger. Out of the 
 wishing of those savage cave-dwellers, and the
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 263 
 
 wishing and striving of the men that followed 
 through the long ages, came the Thought of 
 Shakespeare and Goethe and Michael Angelo and 
 Beethoven and Newton, that ennobles the world 
 to-day. In the depths of the poor cave-dweller's 
 soul was hidden something akin to these mighty 
 men. In the souls of the mightiest and best, of all 
 grand thinkers, teachers, inventors, singers, poets, 
 painters, heroes, saints, and martyrs, still lingers 
 something of the cave-dweller. And you and I, 
 boys, this night, have something of both in us, 
 something always ready to pull us down, and make 
 us like the brutes, something always ready to help 
 us to rise toward heights where the great and 
 good stand. God meant it to be so. He meant 
 us to wish, to work, and to rise. 
 
 Wishing, then, is not wrong. But if we knew 
 a man's secret wish we should know the man. I 
 have overheard some of your Christmas wishes. I 
 heard one of you wish for a sugar-candy palace. 
 I think this was a very natural wish. The sugar 
 palace doubtless looked pretty and tempting in the 
 shop window. But by the wish we know that it 
 was a very little boy who thought this, the most de- 
 sirable thing that the Christ-kind could bring him. 
 I heard another of you say that he wished he had
 
 264 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 a horse and two big dogs. I think this a most 
 excellent wish. Even if I did not know him, I 
 should know he was an active, manly fellow who 
 loved animals. I hope he may have them some 
 day. I have no doubt that he will if he wants 
 them enough to work well for them. 
 
 There have been legions of poor boys in this 
 world, whose hearts were great to wish and to hold 
 their wish against mighty odds. 
 
 Of whom must we first think when we remember 
 poor boys this day ? Of Christ, the poorest boy of 
 all, so poor that He did not know where to lay His 
 head. You all know the story of His life. Born 
 in a manger ; a humble child ; wandering, when a 
 man, homeless suffering from hunger and thirst 
 and weariness, the companion of outcasts, of 
 wretched men and women, whom He with infinite 
 compassion sought to help and comfort, himself an 
 outcast ; hated and scorned by the rich and strong, 
 because His teachings disturbed their comfort 
 persecuted, acquainted with grief this was the 
 Christ who has moved the world. The world 
 society, as we say to-day spoke ill of Him, be- 
 cause He denounced its errors, its falseness, and 
 hypocrisy. Not only in His last supreme hours, 
 but all His life, His soul was torn with an agony of
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 265 
 
 longing to open men's eyes and hearts to truth. 
 Centuries have passed. Kingdoms have come and 
 gone. Creeds have lived and nourished and died. 
 Eeligions, each claiming to be Christ's own, have 
 hated and fiercely fought with one another. To- 
 day scores of sects proclaim Christ under different 
 forms, and with reason, for in all the churches 
 His pure spirit lives : not in their bishops' robes, 
 their endowments, their rites, their prejudices or 
 exclusiveness not in their phylacteries, as Christ 
 said but in their charity. The voice of the poor 
 boy of Nazareth has gone out over all the earth, 
 teaching us to be tolerant, to be pitiful, and to 
 seek truth fearlessly. This, boys, is the lesson of 
 Christmas Day, of Christ's Day peace, good-will 
 to men, love, forgiveness, and fearless truth. 
 
 Martin Luther's father was, as you have read, 
 a poor miner. Martin used to sing in the streets 
 for bread. He was often cold, often hungry. I 
 have told you his story. You know that he is 
 famous all over the world for his bravery, his 
 zeal, and his good life, and that his undaunted 
 spirit influenced princes, powers, nations, all Eu- 
 rope. 
 
 Haydn, one of the greatest composers, was a 
 poor boy. His father was a wheelwright, his
 
 266 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 mother a cook. Rossini, another great musician, 
 was the child of street-singers. Hans Andersen, 
 who wrote the lovely fairy tales I have read to 
 you tales that have been translated into all the 
 languages of Europe, and even into Chinese, Jap- 
 anese, and Hindostanee, was a poor shoemaker's 
 son, so ugly and awkward that he was laughed at. 
 His early life was very hard. But he worked and 
 wrote on. Before he died he was greatly loved 
 and honored, and the world remembers him kindly 
 because he has made so many little children happy. 
 I could never tell you all the authors who have 
 been poor. Robert Burns, the Scotch poet, was a 
 very poor peasant. Schiller was poor, Shakes- 
 peare, it is said, was poor, so was Moliere, the 
 Frenchman who wrote the wonderful plays. You 
 have been told something of them all. 
 
 Christopher Columbus, who discovered the New 
 World, was a humble boy, the sou of a wool-comber. 
 He was born near Genoa, an Italian sea-port. As 
 a boy he used to love to hang about the wharves, 
 and have long talks with old sailors, and pore over 
 maps and charts. When he wanted to sail west- 
 ward to reach India, as he supposed, nobody 
 would listen to him. They thought him a dreamer. 
 He went through groat hardships and discourage-
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 267 
 
 ments, but he kept his hope in his heart fifteen 
 long years. At last he got help and sailed. On 
 the unknown seas his men were frightened, begged 
 to go back, wept, threatened and cursed him ; but 
 he stood firm, and after seventy days saw land, 
 one of the Bahama Islands. Columbus's life was 
 hard and cruel. He met with great ingratitude 
 and died poor. But to-day we revere his divine 
 patience, and know that his inner eyes beheld land 
 unseen by his fellows. 
 
 So it is with the great inventors. Stephenson, 
 the inventor of the locomotive, was a poor little 
 English boy, the son of a colliery laborer. He 
 was so ignorant that his wife taught him to read 
 after they were married. When he was but four- 
 teen he became fireman in the colliery. He de- 
 lighted in machinery, and was always working and 
 contriving something new. Finally he made his 
 engine. It went only thirty miles an hour. We 
 do not realize to-day how astonished the country 
 people must have been to see it snorting through 
 the fields, but the youngest of you can understand 
 more or less how much his invention has benefited 
 the world. His early life was full of privation 
 and struggle. Afterward he built many engines, 
 owned coal mines, and wealth and honors poured
 
 268 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 upon him, but he never changed his simple mode 
 of life and worked diligently always. 
 
 Eichard Arkwright, inventor of the cotton-spin- 
 ning machine, was also a poor little English boy, 
 without education. He worked as barber until he 
 was nearly thirty years old. When he was thirty- 
 six, he made a cotton-spinning frame, by which, 
 for the first time, cotton thread could be made by 
 machinery, fine and strong enough for the warp or 
 long threads of cloth, which before his time were 
 of linen, only the weft or cross-threads being of 
 cotton. The workmen and manufacturers tried to 
 ruin him, because they feared his machine would 
 cut off work, for one man with his frame could do 
 as much work as a hundred and thirty men could 
 before ; but he succeeded in spite of everything. 
 
 Edison, the American who invented the won- 
 derful phonograph I took you to see, and a tele- 
 phone and improvements in electric light, and 
 many marvellous things, was a poor boy with lit- 
 tle education, who sold newspapers on a railway 
 train. He loved chemistry, made a little labor- 
 atory, and was always trying experiments, so the 
 people laughed at him and called him lunatic 
 or " looney." One day he almost set fire to the 
 train, and the conductor threw his treasures away.
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 269 
 
 He then got some old type, and printed a little 
 newspaper which he sold to railway travellers. 
 Now he is honored and admired all over the 
 world. He is always wishing and working, and 
 studying the great laws of nature, and seeing with 
 his inner eyes what the world does not yet see. 
 
 Kepler, the famous astronomer, born as you 
 know not far from us, had much trouble all his 
 life, and was very poor. It did not prevent his 
 love for science, and he found out the laws that 
 rule the motion of the planets, by which we are 
 enabled to tell the place of anyone of them in its 
 orbit at any time, past or present. From these 
 laws sprang the great discoveries of Newton, of 
 which I have often told you older boys. Gutten- 
 berg, though not born poor, was a poor work- 
 ingman. Sir Humphry Davy, the great English 
 chemist, was a very poor boy. He did important 
 scientific work, became honored and distinguished 
 for his learning, and invented a safety-lamp which 
 has saved thousands of miners' lives. For this he 
 would not take out a patent, because his object was 
 not to make money, but to help his fellow -men. 
 Eobert Fulton, the inventor of the steamboat and 
 first steam war-ship ever made, was a poor boy. 
 Morse, the inventor of the telegraph, was poor. So
 
 270 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 was Elias Howe, whose improvements on the sew- 
 ing machine have caused one of the greatest, if 
 peaceful, revolutions the world has known. Benja- 
 min Franklin, one of the most important Americans, 
 was a poor boy whose father was a tallow-chandler. 
 Franklin became a learned and distinguished man, 
 of service to his country and the world. He made 
 many experiments with electricity, and found out 
 how to protect houses with the lightning-rod. 
 Giotto, the famous Italian painter, architect, and 
 sculptor, was a poor little shepherd boy. The 
 story is told that the painter Cimabue found him 
 sketching a sheep on a piece of smooth slate as he 
 was watching his flock on the hillside. Cimabue, 
 struck with his talent, took him home as a pupil. 
 So many of the greatest painters and sculptors 
 were poor, humble, ignorant boys, I cannot begin to 
 tell their names in this short time. Thorwaldsen, 
 whose Christ we have here, was very, very poor, so 
 was Kaulbach, so was the famous French peasant 
 painter Millet. So were many rulers, generals, 
 statesmen men who have occupied positions of 
 eminence in every field and influenced the thought 
 of their epoch. Not a few of the Presidents of the 
 United States were poor boys who grew to be 
 strong men. Of these, Abraham Lincoln is the
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 271 
 
 one whose story we in Germany know best, and 
 whose memory we most revere. For he was not 
 only a great ruler, but a wise and lofty spirit, full 
 of tolerance, of compassion, and comprehension. 
 Everywhere we look, we find poor boys who have 
 become great and helpful to humanity. Moses 
 and scores of Bible heroes ; Socrates and Aristotle, 
 of whom I have told you and who were among the 
 greatest men who ever lived, and many other Greek 
 philosophers. The travellers and explorers, too. 
 Stanley, whose " Dark Continent " is in our li- 
 brary, was a poor-house child. Monarchs are 
 glad to do him honor to-day, because he has 
 opened a new world to us and has exhibited mar- 
 vellous fortitude, force of will, brain-power, and 
 manliness. 
 
 Some of these names you know. Some you do 
 not which does not matter. You will know them 
 the sooner for hearing them. It is a pity to men- 
 tion them so briefly, for some of these men's 
 struggles have been so vast, so pathetic and he- 
 roic, they would touch your hearts and make you 
 love and honor the human race, because it has 
 produced so brave souls. But we shall have time 
 to speak of them later. 
 
 They are but a few taken at random from the
 
 272 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 vast army of poor boys that has advanced the 
 progress of the world. How did they do it? 
 They wished, and they worked with the strong un- 
 conquerable will that gave them courage and 
 patience to contend with obstacles. When rich 
 men have been great and rich men also have been 
 great and good they too have worked. No great 
 soul ever lived a life of ease and indolence. Caesar 
 and Titian and Bismarck were not poor men, but 
 they worked more than most poor men ever 
 dreamed of working. Holbein and Diirer, and 
 ages ago, great Phidias and Praxiteles, were not 
 poor, but they also wished and willed and worked 
 patiently to fix their thought on canvas and in 
 marble. For, remember, great artists and great 
 thinkers, not alone men with spades and trowels, 
 are workers. 
 
 Looking back, then, at the wishers, you will see 
 that it is worth while to wish. Our wishes change. 
 Perhaps by next Christmas, Fritzchen will not 
 want the sugar palace most. It is good that we 
 can begin each day fresh, and if our wish is small 
 make it larger. Wish for knowledge, and you will 
 get it. Wish for wealth, and you may get it. 
 Neither the one nor the other is in itself valuable, 
 but only as means toward an end, that is, only as
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 273 
 
 you are in right relations to your fellowmen, only 
 as you are large toward them, and just and help- 
 ful. We hear much talk nowadays you boys 
 hear it also I am sure about labor and capital, 
 and some very wild ideas about capitalists. There 
 are many capitalists who do a vast amount of good, 
 who have worked hard for their money and who 
 have earned it honestly, and it is as much theirs as 
 the bit of silver belongs to one of you that some- 
 body gives him for running on an errand. It 
 would then be your capital. You would not thank 
 anybody for taking it away from you, because he 
 had earned nothing. Before we hate people for 
 being what we unjustly call more lucky than we, 
 let us consider candidly what immeasurable good 
 such men as the Rothschilds and Sir Moses 
 Montefiore have done in the world ; for they have 
 fed the hungry and clothed the poor, and edu- 
 cated and comforted and sustained in private as 
 well as public charities, and while giving poise to 
 kingdoms, have often not let their right hand 
 know what their left had done, in loving, helpful, 
 secret deeds. And therefore, boys, although there 
 are higher and happier goals than wealth alone, 
 set your ambition on becoming capitalists rather 
 than bootblacks ; for believe me as much abused
 
 274 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 as capitalists are at the moment, they do more 
 good in the world. 
 
 When ten boys run a race, not all can win. 
 One will run fastest. We know that beforehand. 
 If the ten could run alike, there would be no race. 
 But if the one who is beaten worst can forgive the 
 victor, can keep his temper and feel no hate or 
 jealousy, although he really wanted to win, he has 
 done something better than all the fast running in 
 the world. He has climbed far from the caves. 
 So it is in all your play, so it is in your lessons, 
 and so will it be when you are men. 
 
 Looking upon all your familiar faces, I see 
 among you boys from families professing the 
 Protestant, Catholic, and Hebrew faiths. For any 
 boy who wishes can come here without distinction 
 of creed, and we of the Hort believe that in all 
 religions, in all nations, at all times, there have 
 been and are great and good men. In opening our 
 doors to all, we feel that we follow the teachings of 
 Christ and of all true lovers of mankind. 
 
 What are the mottoes on our walls ? 
 
 Coarse rice for food, water to drink, the bended 
 arm for a pillotv, happiness may be enjoyed even 
 with these, but witJiout virtue, both riches and honor 
 seem to me like the passing cloud.
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 275 
 
 Who said this? Confucius, the great Chinese 
 teacher, who lived a noble and beautiful life more 
 than five hundred years before Christ. 
 
 Faithfulness and sincerity are the highest things, 
 he said too, and also that excellent motto for us 
 workers : 
 
 If I am building a house and stop before the last 
 basketful of earth is placed on the summit, I have 
 failed of my ivork. But if I Jiave placed but one 
 basketful on the plain, and go on, I am really build- 
 ing a mountain. 
 
 If it is not right, do not do it ; if it is not true, do 
 not say it, said the Roman Emperor Marcus Aure- 
 lius, and that is so simple that the very youngest 
 of you can remember and understand it. 
 
 What said Zoroaster, the Persian who lived, 
 some scholars believe, many thousand years before 
 Christ? 
 
 Tliink purely, speak purely, act purely. 
 
 Is not that as good for the Hort to-day as it was 
 for the Persians, thousands of years ago ? 
 
 Out of the ancient religions of India we have 
 taken from the Brahmans : 
 
 The soul itself is its own witness, the soul itself is 
 its own refuge. Offend not thy conscious soul the 
 supreme internal witness of men.
 
 276 A BATTLE AND A SOY. 
 
 And from the Buddhists : 
 
 / take my refuge in thy Law of Good. 
 
 I take my refuge in thy Order. 
 
 There, on the south wall, we have an Egyptian 
 motto written four thousand years ago or more : 
 
 Man's lieart rules tJie man. The bad man's heart 
 is what the wise know to be death. He wJio made 
 us is present with us, though we are alone. 
 
 Keep thy heart urith all diligence, for out of it are 
 the issues of life, says the Old Testament, and 
 again : 
 
 Whither shall I go from thy spirit, or whither 
 shall I flee from thy presence ? If I climb up into 
 heaven thou art there, if I go doivn into the abyss, 
 thou art tJiere also. If I take tlte wings of the morn- 
 ing and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea, 
 even there shall thy liand lead me, and thy right 
 hand shall cover me. 
 
 While Christ, whose birth we commemorate in 
 our festival this evening, gives us many divinely 
 helpful words : 
 
 Suffer the little children to come unto me. 
 
 Do good to them that hate you. 
 
 Blessed are the pure in heart. 
 
 Blessed are the peacemakers. 
 
 Love one anotJier.
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 277 
 
 Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy 
 heart and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, 
 and thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. 
 
 In all our rooms we have such words, and why ? 
 
 To show us that men, thousands of years ago, 
 in far-off lands, and in all lands were like us to-day, 
 in spite of error, looking upward, seeking truth 
 and that the human race is one. 
 
 Now, boys, I want to call your attention to an 
 important fact. The same power that placed in 
 us the striving, the desire for good, the seeking 
 after God, the great hunger of the heart, has also 
 surrounded us with laws of which our savage an- 
 cestors knew nothing, and we to-day know little 
 enough ; but the more we study the meaning of 
 those laws, the more the world grows. One thing 
 is sure, whatever creed a man cherishes, he cannot 
 break those laws without taking the consequences. 
 Whether Protestant or Catholic, if he puts his 
 hand in the fire he burns it. If Confucius, or Zo- 
 roaster, or Marcus Aurelius, or St. Paul had disre- 
 garded the law of gravitation and walked off a 
 precipice, he would have fallen on the rocks below 
 and broken his bones or been killed. If a Bap- 
 tist takes deadly poison, he will die as surely as a 
 Methodist. Bad drainage and filth may cause
 
 278 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 
 
 
 
 fever and death whether the people inhabiting the 
 house are Jesuits or Lutherans. No one can cheat 
 the great inexorable laws of the universe. 
 
 Once our race was afraid of what it did not 
 understand, of sun and winds and storms, light- 
 ning and thunder. We have learned to recognize 
 the sun as our life-giving principle, to watch the 
 marvellous motions of the planets, to use winds 
 and heat and steam, to call down the lightning to 
 serve us, and we know that the powers of nature 
 are our friends, not our enemies, provided we find 
 out their laws. All about us, in the whole uni- 
 verse, in our world, our own bodies, minds, hearts, 
 and souls, such kws, if kept, lead to health and 
 truth and right ; if broken, to disease and wrong 
 and misery and ruin. Galileo, Bruno, Newton, 
 and Laplace, Columbus and Magellan, Lavoisier, 
 Volta, Galvani, and Darwin were all studying them. 
 To-day many scholars in many fields are seeking 
 them, in the stars, in electricity, and chemistry, 
 and botany, and geology. Let us humbly and rev- 
 erently study them too, for they are all manifes- 
 tations of the Infinite. But the laws are there, 
 whether we refuse to know them or not. The 
 earth and the other planets revolved round the sun 
 before Copernicus found it out and told the world.
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 279 
 
 
 
 The law of gravitation existed before Newton saw 
 the apple fall. The laws would be true even if the 
 whole world denied them still. 
 
 When people first saw an engine steaming along 
 the railway they thought it was the devil. I know 
 some old ladies who declare that the phonograph 
 is wicked, and that it is the devil's voice speak- 
 ing in it. They are very excellent and pious old 
 ladies, and they are positive that all scientific men 
 are doomed to eternal punishment. Within fifty 
 years, when ether was first used, many good people 
 grew much excited about it, and asserted that it 
 was a sinful thing to try to deaden the pain that 
 God sent. People thought Galileo a terrible 
 sinner when he said the earth moved round the 
 sun, and they persecuted him for it. In those 
 days they used to torture and burn men who had 
 strange mathematical and astronomical instru- 
 ments, and the ones who tried to prevent scholars 
 from studying God's ways were religious people 
 who really believed it their duty to put men in 
 prison when they discovered anything new about 
 the world we live in. If Mr. Edison had lived a 
 few centuries ago, and the Inquisition had ex- 
 amined his workshops, it would probably have con- 
 demned him for witchcraft and boiled him in oil.
 
 280 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 Yet his researches are reverent He believes that 
 the existence of a Supreme God is proved by 
 chemistry alone. Like great poets, the inventors 
 also are prophets and seers. There is always op- 
 position, until people have time to accustom them- 
 selves to the new thought, that is, to the old truth 
 which is new to them. Nevertheless patient men 
 work on, and day by day learn more of the great 
 laws which God does not reveal to us all at once, 
 but only in response to our search and striving. 
 
 Remember, too, they are for us to study in our- 
 selves, in the smallest as in the greatest things, and 
 that what each of us does, what he thinks and 
 feels, is important to the whole world. When 
 Hans does his sums right, the world's arithmetic is 
 the better by exactly those sums. When we con- 
 quer the low word, the mean impulse, are cleanly 
 and decent, when we resist the temptation to lie, 
 and speak the truth bravely, the morals of the 
 whole world are higher, and we help not only our 
 brothers who live now, but our brothers who will 
 live when we are dead. 
 
 If you learn to be beaten in any race without hat- 
 ing, learn to let people differ with you without think- 
 ing them bad, learn, as Voltaire said, to " forgive the 
 virtues of your enemies," learn that men working
 
 A BATTLE AND A EOT. 281 
 
 in totally different directions may all be working 
 right, because for the progress of the human race ; 
 that a Caesar, a Kant, a Bach, a Pascal, a Buddha, 
 and that glorious, sweet - souled martyr, Father 
 Damien, who went to take care of the poor lepers, 
 all have helped the world ; that millions of men 
 and women of whom we shall never hear, near us 
 and in nations far from us, with religious views 
 flatly opposed to ours, are helping the growth of 
 the world to-day learn all this, and you will in- 
 deed have left the caves far, far behind. 
 
 You can learn these things. I know you, every- 
 one. I believe in you. But you must think. 
 Without thought you cannot grow into just and 
 large-hearted men. If you think, if you ask your- 
 selves what is the cause of this, what will be the ef- 
 fect of that ; how by this shall I harm myself, and 
 therefore my brother and the whole world, then 
 your inner eyes and ears that is your soul, your 
 spirit will develop. Take this home in your 
 hearts, boys, there is nothing without a cause and 
 every cause has an effect. God's truth is strong 
 enough to bear investigation, whether among the 
 planets, in the tides, or in our own hearts. Our 
 probing can never hurt it or make it less holy. 
 Mysteries there will always be. Not only are we
 
 282 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 confronted by mystery when we look up in the sky 
 and consider that our earth is one of many planets 
 circling round the sun, and that there are innu- 
 merable suns each with companies of planets re- 
 volving round them and probably innumerable in- 
 habited worlds in illimitable space ; not only is it 
 a mystery when death comes or a child is born, 
 but the tiniest flower is as great a mystery, and 
 we behold a mystery when we look into our bro- 
 ther's eyes. 
 
 Yet the more we search for truth the better we 
 comprehend that precisely because the Supreme 
 Ruler is all-just, He does not, cannot change His 
 laws to suit our unjust and ignorant desires. Since 
 our forefathers believed that the earth was flat, and 
 the sky a canopy over it like a huge blue umbrella, 
 not very far off, and the stars mere stationary 
 points of light twinkling prettily for the sole pur- 
 pose of pleasing mankind, we have learned some- 
 thing of God's laws, it is true. But never forget 
 that what we know of them, in comparison with the 
 vast unknown things surrounding us on every side, 
 and reaching out beyond the most remote star we 
 see, is but the humblest, tiniest, most insignificant 
 beginning of what men who come after us will know, 
 of what we ourselves may know in some other life.
 
 A BATTLE AND A SOT. 283 
 
 It is because the laws are there that we can find 
 comfort when cruel sorrow comes to us. In our 
 bitterest grief we know that infinite justice, not 
 caprice, rules all nature. Because of these very 
 laws which govern our spirits as well as our 
 bodies, we dare hope for other lives, other worlds 
 wherever, whatever they may be. Because of 
 God's laws, feebly as we now discern them, we can- 
 not doubt that divine love is the soul of the uni- 
 verse. 
 
 Go on then. Be wishers, thinkers, workers. 
 Fear nothing. Make men of yourselves, men to 
 be trusted whatever your work in life, trusted 
 when alone at midnight when none will ever 
 know your thought or your deed. On then, Hort 
 boys, away from the caves on toward the heights ! 
 
 I thank you for your attention and courtesy. 
 
 Good-night. God bless you." 
 
 The boys poured out pell-mell. Arno heard 
 their comments as they passed down the hall. 
 
 "I'll box all your ears," said one "those that 
 show and those that don't." 
 
 " I'm going to find a cave and live in it," another 
 announced, "and have a good big knotty club 
 made out of a whole tree, and I'll lie in wait for
 
 284 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 
 
 people who go to walk in the woods. But I sup- 
 pose as soon as I begin to have some fun, there'll 
 be a darned old policeman after me." 
 
 Arno smiled without surprise or discouragement. 
 He had often listened to society's infantile babble 
 after lectures on great poets, art, astronomy, elec- 
 tricity, or after a powerful tragedy, and the chil- 
 dren's talk struck him as no more hopeless, help- 
 less, and flippant than the complacent shatter of 
 grown people about things they do not grasp. He 
 knew too the bravado of his boys, and that the 
 very ones who had spoken might be the first to 
 come to him with thoughtful questions. Some- 
 thing would remain of his appeal to the humanity 
 of the neglected souls. If his words were some- 
 times above them, what then ? Should babies 
 hear baby-talk exclusively, they would never learn 
 the language of mature men. 
 
 " A topsy - turvy speech a revolutionary 
 speech ! " said the major, but he did not look very 
 stern. 
 
 The Normanns waited at the door for Franzl, 
 who did not come. 
 
 Arno went back for him. 
 
 The janitor was putting out the lights. 
 
 Franzl stood alone in the dim room, his brown
 
 A BATTLE AND A BOY. 285 
 
 package under his arm. He had forgotten to fol- 
 low his friends, for his thoughts were leading him 
 in zigzag lightning journeys, from land to land, 
 from age to age, and frowning in his earnestness, 
 his lips compressed and resolute, he was trying to 
 decide whether he would be a Galileo, an Edison, 
 a Eaphael, a Christopher Columbus, or a Schiller.
 
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