THEY MEET A KIND FRIEND
The interest in their weapons gave place in a few days to preparations
for the journey to Frankfort; and they decided to walk, just as such
healthy, energetic boys would prefer, taking two days for the journey,
and stopping for the one night at some wayside inn.
The mothers prepared the outfit, the main part of the clothing for the
three boys to be packed in one satchel and sent by express to the home
of Mrs. Fanny Steiner, the widowed sister of Fritz's father, and the
boys were to carry their school knapsacks strapped across their
shoulders, containing the few articles they would need upon their
journey. The fathers agreed to furnish funds for the journey, and the
three travelers, not having to bother about clothing or money, could
give all their attention to the subject of weapons with which to
overcome the dangers which might beset them on the way.
Fritz brought forward his rusty knife; Paul had found an old pistol of
the time of the first Napoleon, in which lay no danger because it would
not shoot; and Franz had an old cutlass which hung by a cord at his
side. They praised each other's weapons, but Fritz and Paul could not
help envying the owner of the cutlass.
"Listen," said Fritz. "We need not always carry our own weapons upon the
journey, we can exchange when we feel like it."
Paul agreed heartily to this, but Franz was silent; he did not wish any
one to have a share in his new possession.
"I know what I can do," exclaimed Fritz. "Just wait a minute," and he
ran home, returning with a leather belt and a cord, and soon his knife
was hanging by his side.
"Why can't I wear my pistol in my belt like the men do in pictures?"
questioned Paul. "I will run home and get mine."
This was brought, and the three warriors were equipped to their hearty
satisfaction, for they had already provided their straw hats with plumes
from the cast-off tail feathers of roosters in their respective poultry
yards.
They decided to have beside other needed things in each knapsack a
drinking cup that they might slake their thirst along the way from cool
springs, or clear running water, or a convenient well or pump.
Franz had a silver watch which all agreed would be very useful. Paul had
a box of tapers which he considered equal to a wonder-lamp in a fairy
tale, and Fritz had a small compass, so correct in its bearings that if
they trusted to it there was not the least danger of losing their way.
"Oh," he continued jubilantly, "let us run and get our knapsacks and
hang them across our shoulders and go to the photographer and ask what
he will charge to take our pictures."
"Agreed!" cried the others gleefully, and they were about to go when
they heard the sound of hearty laughter, and turning, they saw the
father of Franz.
"Wait, boys," he said, "there is danger of being arrested on the way.
Don't you know that it is against the law to carry weapons?"
"But, father, people do carry them."
"Yes, but they take good care to keep them hidden."
"We could keep ours hidden."
"But where? Could Paul hide his pistol in his hat, and could Franz put
the cutlass in his vest pocket as if it were a tooth-pick? Oh no, boys,
lay aside the old weapons and travel along the public road as peaceable
citizens with no thought of being harmed or of harming anyone. The roads
of our beloved Fatherland are not infested with bandits and footpads,
and you can go with contented minds and with no fear of danger upon your
travels. Now it is time to part; good-night, boys. Go home to a good
supper and a good sleep. Come, Franz."
The next day came the selecting of things that were to go in the
knapsacks and each boy had collected enough of what they considered
really needed to fill them to overflowing.
"What is this?" asked the mother of Franz, who was about to help him
with his knapsack, as they were to take an early start the next morning.
"It is my checker-board. We can play in the evenings before we go to
bed."
"Oh, you cannot take it! see, it would take up half the room in the
knapsack. You will be so tired in the evenings that you will be ready to
drop asleep before you take off your shoes. Where are your stockings?"
"Why, they will go in the satchel, mother; I don't have to carry them."
"Yes, you must take one pair. Your feet will be dusty from your long
walk, and you must have a fresh pair for the second day. Where is your
rain-coat?"
"Rain-coat? Why, I never thought of it."
"A checker-board would not keep the rain from wetting you should there
come up a sudden shower. You must have it in, no matter what you leave
at home."
"Paul and Fritz did not say they would take their rain-coats in their
knapsacks."
"Perhaps not, but their mothers did, and mothers know best. What is in
this box?"
"My writing paper; you gave it to me at Christmas."
"A hundred sheets! Do you expect to write a hundred letters while you
are in Frankfort? If so, you will not see much of the city. You must
take in your knapsack only what you will really need upon your journey,
and with only that you will find it heavy enough."
The mother put the knapsack in care of Franz when ready for the journey,
and he took it to his room; then hurried to the home of Fritz to see how
the packing was progressing there, and found that the good mother of the
boy had given the same wise advice in regard to the packing of the
knapsack. Then the two went to the home of Paul and found that the same
plan had ruled out the useless things that Paul had intended should
journey to Frankfort in his knapsack.
At six o'clock the next morning Franz and Paul had bidden their home
people an affectionate farewell and were on their way to meet Fritz,
when they saw him coming, knapsack upon his shoulder and leading his dog
by a new green cord tied to the collar.
"Oh, Fritz!" they exclaimed in a breath, "surely you are not going to
take Pixy on the journey to Frankfort?"
"Surely I am! He wants to go, and I am going to take him."
"Does your father and mother know it?"
"No, certainly not, or Pixy would be at home this minute."
"But you had no right to take him without telling them," said the
thoughtful Paul.
"Pixy is mine and I have a right to take him, but I wish them to know
that I have him, so I have written a postal telling them, and will drop
it in the village letter box. That will make it all right."
"But your Aunt Fanny. Will she like to have him?" asked Franz,
doubtfully.
"Oh, she loves Pixy, and will be glad to see him. When she comes to
visit us in the summers, she always takes Pixy with her when she walks
to the village or calls to see the neighbors. Yes, indeed; she will be
very, very glad to have him there."
"He will have to eat on his way to Frankfort," remarked Paul.
"Yes, but mother put up a great deal more than I can eat in this one
day, and I will share with Pixy."
"And I," and "I, too," said the others, for in their hearts they were
glad to have his company; "but are you going to lead him all the way
with that rope?"
"No, indeed; he doesn't need it, and I will take it off, and put it in
my knapsack as soon as we are past the village. I only brought it to put
on him when we are in the streets of Frankfort to keep him from getting
frightened and running away."
The rope was taken off and put in the knapsack, and then Fritz made
another proposition.
"Let us take off our shoes and stick our stockings in them, swing them
from our knapsacks, and go barefoot."
"All right!" agreed the others, and soon they were rejoicing in the
luxury of bare feet, but not long, for Paul struck his toe against a
stone, then getting a briar in his foot, sank down upon a green bank and
took it in his hand.
"I see the briar," exclaimed Fritz, "and can take it out."
"Oh, no, it will hurt," objected Paul, with tears in his eyes, but his
tears changed to smiles when he saw the briar in the hand of Fritz.
This was a warning and they put on their stockings and shoes, and then
concluded to eat some more breakfast.
"What have you to eat?" asked Fritz, as Franz took his package from his
knapsack.
"I have brown bread; mother made it for me because I love it, and she
put plenty of good sausage with it."
"Nothing better!" said Fritz, heartily. "What have you, Paul, for your
second breakfast?"
"I have bread and butter and two eggs."
"And I have bread and butter and ham, and if either of you boys want a
slice of it, just speak. It is fine, I tell you," said Fritz.
"Oh, say, boys," exclaimed Franz, "let us divide our breakfast, share
and share alike. If either of you would like some of my brown bread and
sausage, say so, and you shall have it."
"I love brown bread and sausage, too," remarked Paul, "and either of you
can have part of the eggs, only that I do not know how to divide two
into three parts."
"Easy enough," explained Franz, "you can give me one egg, and I will
give you the biggest piece of my sausage, then you can cut the other egg
in two for you and Fritz."
"All right, here is the egg."
"And here is the sausage, the largest piece for you. Fritz, here is
yours."
"That is fine; here, Franz, take part of my ham."
"Here is a slice of my white bread for a slice of your brown," continued
Paul.
"All right, reach for it. You will find that it goes as well with
sausage as does an egg with white bread; now let's eat."
Fritz had not waited for any invitation. He was hungry and as he ate the
sausage which he was holding in one hand, he passed the ham to Franz, in
exchange for it. As Paul reached for the slice of brown bread, his piece
of sausage fell to the ground and was snapped up by the waiting Pixy.
"Now I have no sausage, and it was your dog, Fritz, that robbed me of
it," complained Paul in a disappointed tone.
"Yes, and I would give you my share, but I have eaten it; eat the ham,
Paul, and take back this half egg."
This was agreed to as fair, then the subject of drink to go with the
food was discussed, and their little tin cups were taken from their
knapsacks.
"What have you in your bottle, Fritz?" asked Paul.
"Chocolate; what have you?"
"Milk; and Franz has coffee. Will we share as we did our food?"
"Yes, let's share," so time about the little cups were filled with the
different fluids, and they ate and drank and chatted. Nor was Pixy
forgotten. He made an abundant meal from the scraps, and lay down in the
shade and slept.
"Let us keep our cups in hand until we come to a running stream of
water. Milk, coffee and chocolate are all good, but it is water you want
when you are real thirsty."
The running stream was found after they had walked a half mile further
and Fritz had to hold Pixy by the collar to keep him from running in and
taking a bath before they had satisfied their thirst. The water was
delightfully cool and fresh, and the moment Fritz let go the cord Pixy
plunged in, and enjoyed the bath so much that the boys were tempted to
follow his example. But they had heard that it was not good for the
health to bathe so soon after a hearty meal, so sat in the shade while
Pixy slept in the sun until his long, silky, black hair was nearly dry.
Then they arose and walked on until about the middle of the day they
reached a village which had an old church with a tall tower, and a
number of small dwellings, two of them being public houses, or inns.
"To which of the two will we go to take our dinners?" asked Franz.
"To the one that has the gilt lion on the sign-board. I believe they are
richer people and will give us a better dinner," replied Paul.
"But it will cost us more," objected Fritz, "and you know that we have
just so much money, which must last until we get back to the Odenwald.
Let us go to the one that looks the cheapest."
This was agreed to, and the three went in, and were received by the
landlady.
"Do you wish your dinners?" she asked, seeing that none of them seemed
inclined to give an order.
No one of them had ever been in a public house, so each waited for the
other to speak.
"Yes, we wish dinner," said Fritz at length. "Have you lettuce?"
"Yes; what will you have with it?"
"Potatoes."
"But they take so long to boil, so think of something else."
"We will have meat."
"I have no meat to-day."
"Then we will take sausage."
"I have no sausage to-day."
"Then what have you?"
"Noodle soup, and a cherry pudding."
"Good!" exclaimed the boys in a breath, "we all like pudding."
"Very well, take seats at this table and I will bring in the dinner."
The boys were not slow in obeying; there was no tablecloth but the pine
table was scoured to almost perfect whiteness, and the dishes, few and
poor though they were, glistened.
A large dish of lettuce was set before them, then a bowl of soup at each
plate, and some thick slices of brown bread.
"What drink will you have?" she asked.
"We prefer milk."
"There is no milk. It all went into the pudding, but you can have plenty
of cold coffee."
"No, we will take water, please."
This was brought, and when the soup was finished, the pudding was
brought, and although it was of fair size not a vestige of it was left;
and it was then that Fritz remembered Pixy.
"Oh, boys, I forgot him and we have eaten all the pudding from him," he
said, remorsefully.
"We will each give a penny and ask the mistress to give him some
dinner," said Paul.
But it was not needed. Pixy had been well fed on the remains of the
soup, and was ready to journey as soon as they gave him notice. Fritz
thanked the kind woman, and she in turn was pleased with the well-bred
boys who had given evidence of being satisfied with the food, and had
paid her the price she asked.
Then they set out cheerily and soon broke into a melody they sang at
school. They had good voices and sang with spirit. So interested were
they that they did not hear the sound of wheels although a carriage was
coming slowly behind them, and a gentleman who was in it was listening
with pleasure. At length the song was finished and the boys heard the
sound of wheels, halted and turned, then lifted their hats to the
stranger.
"I hope you will keep on with your singing. I love it, and I love boys,"
said the gentleman in a pleasant voice. "I like to see them on their
travels. Have you any objection to telling me where you are going?"
"To Frankfort," they all replied at once.
"Why not go by railway?"
"We wished to walk all the way."
"Of course you expect to stay over night somewhere?"
"Yes, we expect to stay to-night at an inn if it is not too expensive.
If it is, we will sleep on straw somewhere. We would not mind that this
warm weather."
"People who are used to a bed would find it very uncomfortable to sleep
on straw. What place did you expect to reach by evening?"
"The village of Umstadt; and we think we can find an inn there where we
can stay."
"It is quite a long distance from here, and you would be very late in
reaching it. You will get there much faster if you will step into my
carriage, for I expect to pass through the village on my way to my
home."
"Would there be room for my dog Pixy?" asked Fritz, anxiously.
"Certainly there is room. Two of you boys can sit on the back seat, and
the other can sit by me and the dog can sit between us."
It seemed to the three that an angel had come down to help them on their
journey, for they were woefully tired, and evening was coming on.
Therefore it was with smiling countenances that they climbed in and took
seats. The gentleman spoke quietly to his horse and off they went on
their way to the village.
"Do you think it lightens the burden for my horse that you keep your
knapsacks on your shoulders?" smiled the gentleman. "If you lay them off
you will see that he can trot just as well; and if there were a dozen
boys he would not consider them a burden but would keep on trotting. You
have told me where you are going, now tell me where you are from."
"We are from the country near the village of Michelstadt," replied
Fritz. "We left at six o'clock this morning to pass our holiday with my
father's sister, Mrs. Fanny Steiner."
"That is good. Now tell me your names and your fathers'."
"My father is Fritz Heil, and I am named for him. He is a clothing
merchant in the village of Michelstadt."
"Very good! I know him well. Now tell me who you are," turning to Paul.
"My father is Paul Roth, he is a teacher. My name is the same."
"Very good; now, my boy," turning to Franz.
"My father is named Franz Krupp, and I am named for him. He is the
head-forester in the Odenwald. The master-forester is old and when he
dies my father will get the place."
"Halt, my boy! Guard your speech. Don't speak to a stranger or to anyone
of the master-forester's death. Is he not in good health?"
"No, he is sick. I never heard my father say anything about his death or
of taking his place, but I know that he will have it when he dies."
"Nor should you speak of it. I know the master-forester as well as I
know your father. Suppose I should tell him what you have just said
about his dying and your father getting the position?"
The eyes of Franz filled with tears and he looked alarmed.
"Don't be anxious, my boy. I know you meant no harm, but I wish to warn
you to be careful of your speech. The master-forester has a brother
living in this neighborhood. I may be that brother. If so, would I like
to hear that your father is looking forward to his death in order to
have his place? And would it be to your father's advantage to have it
known that he is looking forward to it?"
Franz was silent a moment, then he reached forward and put his hand in
that of his adviser and thanked him, and his friend shook it heartily.
"Now, as a matter of courtesy, I should tell you my name. It is James
Furman. I am a farmer and live near the village of Umstadt. I know your
fathers well and am glad to meet their sons."
"And we are glad to meet you! It is kind of you to ask us to ride. We
were getting very tired, and we are much obliged to you."
"Then perhaps you will sing some more of your sweet songs. Hear how the
larks and finches are singing their evening praises to God."
The boys were very willing. They sang several, their new friend joining
them, and had just finished his favorite when they reached the little
town of Umstadt, and halted in front of the one public house of which
the sign was a swan. The moment the carriage stopped Pixy sprang out and
waited with bright eyes and wagging tail for his master to descend.
The landlord met them at the open door, and greeted them as if old
acquaintances.
"Why, neighbor, you have brought me a fine flock of birds!" he said,
cordially.
"Yes, they are choice singing birds and will roost with you to-night and
to-morrow will fly away to Frankfort."
"All right, all right! We have a room that will suit them exactly."
"These boys spoke of being thirsty, neighbor. Will you have some fresh
water brought for them? I offered them something stronger in the shape
of a bottle of mineral water or sarsaparilla, but they prefer the
water."
The order was given, and a large stone pitcher and glasses soon
appeared. The moment Pixy saw it he sprang up, put his feet on the
pitcher and tried to lick the drops from it.
"Wait a bit, Pixy! I am so thirsty," exclaimed Fritz, and he drained the
glass of cold water without stopping.
"My boy," said Mr. Furman, "the true friend of our poor dependent dumb
creatures attends to their wants first; the really kind master will not
let them wait while he satisfies his own hunger and thirst."
Fritz was ashamed of his treatment of Pixy, and was glad to pour some of
the water into a basin which the innkeeper reached to him. He carried it
to the porch, where Pixy ran quickly and drank as if he was afraid the
basin would be taken away from him.
"Now, boys, I must go on home," said Mr. Furman as he shook hands with
them. "Good-bye! Remember me to your fathers, and take good care of
Pixy."