A KIND WELCOME
The train drew slowly into the depot at Frankfort, and for the first
time in their lives the country boys saw something of the bustle and
excitement of travel. A crowd of people was hurrying out of the cars,
and an equally hurrying one was passing in, while on the platform of the
depot was a waiting crowd greeting returned ones, and bidding farewell
to departing ones, in all of which the boys were so interested that for
a time they forgot their own interests. At length the departure of the
train brought to their remembrance that they, too, must depart and Fritz
stepped up to an old gentleman whose pleasant countenance inspired
confidence.
"We wish to go to the house of my aunt, Mrs. Fanny Steiner," he said.
"Are you acquainted with her? She is a little, thin lady, has gray hair,
and wears a widow's cap."
"No, my boy," smiled the old gentleman, "I have not the honor of her
acquaintance. Perhaps you can tell me the number of her house and the
street?"
"Yes, it is number 37 Bornheimer street."
"Good! I can direct you exactly how to go. You take the electric car
which will pass here in a few minutes, and it will take you to the
corner of the street not more than a few steps from number 37."
"Oh, thank you, thank you!" said Fritz much relieved. Paul and Franz
touched their hats and thanked him, taking Fritz as an example in all
things.
The car came, and the three, followed closely by Pixy, rushed to get
aboard.
"You can't bring that dog on the car. It is against orders," called the
motorman.
"What must I do?" asked Fritz despairingly.
"You must settle that matter between yourself and the dog. Perhaps he
will follow the car if he sees you in it."
"Can I stand on the platform where he can see me?"
"No, it is against orders; but you can sit at the window at the end of
the car, where he can see you."
"Oh, thank you, thank you!" and the three quickly boarded the car. Fritz
took the place designated, and they were off, while Pixy, who believed
that his master was deserting him, ran barking and howling in their
track.
At every stoppage of the car, Pixy sprang up to the window, but Fritz
knew better than to speak one comforting word, although his heart ached
for his forlorn traveling companion who must walk--or rather run, and
run fast to keep up with the rapidly moving car. At length Pixy learned
the lesson of experience. As there was no chance for him at the back end
of the car, he would try the front, so at the next stopping-place, he
flew along the length of the car, sprang on the front platform and
curled about the feet of the motorman.
"See here, boy, you must get out, and take your dog. It is against
orders for a dog to be on the platform."
"We will go out, too," said Franz and Paul, jumping up to follow their
leader.
"Give us back our money," said Fritz, holding out his hand, when they
reached the street.
"No; it is against orders;" and the car sped away.
Pixy was delighted that the three boys were now on the same footing as
himself, and proved it by springing up, putting his feet on his
master's shoulders and licking his face; and the boy petted him to his
heart's content. But Paul and Franz were not flattered in an equal
measure with Fritz at Pixy's pleasure in their company as
fellow-travelers, and expressed their opinion with clouded faces.
"Now this is the second time that we have paid out money and got but
little good out of it because of the dog," grumbled Franz. "He got into
a fight and your pants got torn, and we would, I think, have remembered
the money if we had not been bothered about having to wait to get them
mended. Then we had to come back and pay thirty cents to Peter and
thirty to Letta; and afterward had to ride in a freight-car because of
your dog."
"If you don't want Pixy with us, I will go back home to-morrow and take
him," said Fritz with tears in his eyes. "It has been enough trouble to
me that I brought him without first asking papa and mamma. It was a mean
thing to do, but I thought it would be so nice to have him take the
journey with us."
Franz and Paul were ashamed of their treatment of the one to whom they
were indebted for the visit to Mrs. Steiner and Frankfort, and hastened
to assure him that no matter what trouble happened through Pixy's fault
they would make no word of complaint.
Pixy knew by the change of tone that peace had again spread its blessed
wings over the "three-leaved clover," and to show his approbation he
fawned upon all three with impartial effusiveness.
"I am sorry that I said that he had no sense like city dogs that were
running quietly along-side of wagons, but must try to jump on the car
whenever it stopped," said Paul penitently.
"Yes," replied Fritz, throwing his arm around Pixy's neck, "you were
both glad when you saw that I was bringing him upon the journey, and now
when he brings us into trouble we must not blame him for what he cannot
help."
"No, it would not be right to blame him for loving us, and wanting to be
with us," agreed Franz.
"Aunt Fanny will rejoice to see him, I know," continued Fritz. "No, I am
not at all sorry I brought him, only I wish I had asked leave of papa
and mamma."
The mention of his aunt reminded the three that they had yet to find her
house, and they were in consultation as to what way to go when a
workman in a blue blouse came in sight and they asked the way to 37
Bornheimer street.
"Whom are you going to see there?" he asked.
"My Aunt Fanny Steiner. She lives in the apartments on the third floor."
"If you will give me fifty cents, I will take you there."
The boys glanced at each other but were silent, and the man saw that he
had struck too high.
"Well, then, suppose we say thirty pennies. That will be ten each," and
to this they agreed and the caravan set out, Fritz leading Pixy by his
cord.
The way led through several streets but at length they reached a retired
street, and the leader halted before a neat dwelling with a flight of
long winding steps leading up to a narrow porch and it was agreed among
them that he should go up while the boys waited below. In response to
his knock, the door was opened by a small, elderly lady, who was
informed that three boys and a dog waited below.
"I am not expecting anyone," she said, stepping out upon the porch and
looking down.
"Here we are, Aunt Fanny!" called Fritz. "It is our holiday and we have
come to visit you."
"Come right up, dear," exclaimed his aunt joyously; "but leave the dog
below. Dogs are not allowed in these apartments."
"But, aunt, it is Pixy, that you take out walking every morning in
summer, and always give him a lump of sugar when you visit us in the
country."
"Oh," cried the perplexed aunt, "I did not recognize him, but come up,
boys. I am heartily glad to see you."
"First give me my money," said their guide, holding out his hand; the
money was given, and the three and Pixy ran up the long steps, Fritz
saying as he ran, "Come on, boys, we have found Aunt Steiner and she is
glad to see us."
"Did you write that you were coming to-day, dear?" asked his aunt when
all hands were seated and the boys had laid aside their knapsacks.
"No, aunt. You know I wrote two weeks ago and told you that Franz and I
were coming as soon as school was done; and we thought you would not
mind if we brought Paul."
"No, I am really glad he is with you; I met Paul and his parents when I
was at your home in the country and am glad to welcome him as well as
Franz, whose parents are dear friends of mine. The only reason that I
would be glad if you had written is that I might have provided another
bed. There is only one in my spare room."
The boys looked at each other with anxious glances. It seemed to them a
hopeless case for they had tried the experiment of three in a bed at the
Swan inn, and it had not been a success.
"Don't feel concerned, dear boys," said Mrs. Steiner kindly; "there is a
wide lounge in the room with a head-piece which serves as a pillow. One
of you can sleep upon it."
"Let Franz and Paul have the bed, aunt. I am perfectly willing to sleep
on the lounge."
"Then that matter is settled. Now about the dog."
"He does not need a bed, dear Aunt Fanny," replied the boy, reddening
with anxiety. "He can sleep on the floor anywhere, and he does not eat
much; just the scraps from the table will suit him."
"I am not thinking of his bed or of his food, my dear; but you have come
to Frankfort on a sight-seeing tour, and dogs will not be allowed at
any place that you will want to go."
"Then we can leave him here."
"But to that there is also an objection. When I rented this suite of
rooms, I assured the owner who lives on the first floor that I had no
dog. In the apartments below me lives an old lady who is afraid of dogs
and is frightened at noise. Now if Pixy should howl or bark while you
are out, what would I do?"
Fritz loved his dog and it distressed him that there seemed to be no
place in the world where he was tolerated except his father's house;
therefore there seemed no other course than to return home and take Pixy
with him.
"Oh, dear aunt!" he said tearfully, "let us stay this one night, and
to-morrow I will go back home."
"My dear boy," said his aunt with tears of sympathy in her eyes, "do you
think for a moment that I would allow you to go home, when this is the
very first time you have paid me a visit? No; come with me and bring
Pixy with you. We will go down to the first floor to see Mr. Steerer,
the owner of this house, and ask him if he will let you keep your dog
during your visit."
This was one ray of sunlight on a cloudy day, and Fritz and Pixy
followed down the long steps. Mrs. Steiner rang the bell of the first
floor apartments, and Mr. Steerer opened the door and invited them in.
"Now tell the gentleman why we have come," said Mrs. Steiner.
But Fritz was weeping too bitterly to make explanations, and his aunt
had to speak for him.
"I have no objection to the dog staying," replied Mr. Steerer kindly,
"providing he does not bark and annoy my tenant on the second floor."
"Now, Pixy, thank the gentleman for his kindness," said Aunt Fanny, and
immediately the intelligent animal sat upon his hind feet and waved his
right fore foot back and forth.
"But you must speak," commanded Fritz, who was smiling through his
tears, whereupon Pixy gave a sharp little bark while again waving his
paw.
"Now we will call and ask Mrs. Hagner if your dog can stay," said Aunt
Fanny when they reached the door of the old lady's apartments and gently
tapped.
"Come in! Come in!" laughed a voice within, "and I am pretty sure that I
know why you have come."
Fritz felt so relieved at their pleasant reception that he made the
explanation.
"Certainly, certainly, I will not object," replied Mrs. Hagner. "I do
not like dogs, but I do like my neighbor and I like boys; so taking
these two likings together, you see they are too strong to be mastered
by the one dislike."
"Thank the lady for her kindness, Pixy," said Fritz gleefully and it was
done, not omitting the bark, and aunt and nephew went with light hearts
up the steps to the third floor to tell the anxious Franz and Paul the
result of their visit.
"Now, children," said Mrs. Steiner, "let us lay that care and all others
aside and be happy. I am rejoiced to see you all, and hope to make you
have a pleasant visit. But you must also do your share to make it so by
being satisfied with what I can do to entertain you. You must be
contented with the few pleasures I can offer. And now tell me, Fritz,
why you are wearing a rain-coat on a clear day," and Fritz explained the
situation in a few words.
"Well, dear Fritz, we must sometimes have shadow instead of sunshine,
thorns instead of roses; and you must not let this mar your pleasure. I
am glad to see young, cheerful people about me; it makes me feel young
again."
The boys looked at each other with a satisfied smile. They felt that it
was the right kind of a welcome, and Fritz was proud of his father's
sister.
"Now you can take your knapsacks into my spare-bedroom," she continued,
opening the door of a pleasant apartment. At that moment to the joy of
Fritz, a porter from the depot brought his satchel, and at the request
of Mrs. Steiner placed it in their room. He lost no time in taking out
a pair of trousers, putting the patched ones in the trunk, and then the
three returned to the sitting-room which was also dining-room.
"Now, boys," said Mrs. Steiner, "I was just preparing supper for myself
when you came, and all I will have to do is to add something more
substantial for three travelers. But first I must ask how it happened
that you did not write at least a postal to let me know you were coming?
I might have been away from home. Then what would you have done?"
"Father said I ought to write to you and tell you the time we would be
here," replied Fritz, "but I put it off until it was too late, and I
thought you would not care."
"No, it does not make the least difference to me but it might have made
a great difference to you. I might have been sick, or, as I said before,
away from home. So do not trust to chance in such matters, but more than
all, do as your parents advise. They know best. Now I see that it is my
usual time for getting supper, and Paul will go out with me to buy
something for it. Fritz and Franz can go into the kitchen and wash their
hands in the basin hanging by the sink. Then Franz can tie on an apron
he will see out there and take the peelings from a dish of boiled
potatoes on the table and cut them up in small pieces, while Fritz sets
the table in this room. The tablecloth is in this drawer, and the dishes
in the cupboard; and he can set the table for four people as he sees it
set at home. Now, Paul, we will go."
Nothing could have made the boys feel more at home that first evening
than the sharing of the work of the household, and all joined in
cheerfully.
"I am as hungry as a wolf; I could almost eat the cold potatoes,"
remarked Franz.
"So could I, but we can wait. Aunt will get supper quickly when she
comes." And he was right, for the boys had scarcely finished their work
when they heard her and Paul coming up the steps, and a half hour later
supper was ready.
She had turned the well-chopped potatoes in a hot pan in which was
melted butter and set Franz to stir them that they might brown without
burning. In another pan she put the slices of liverwurst for Fritz to
watch, and Paul, who had first been sent to the kitchen to wash his
hands, put the slices of rich ham upon a pretty pink plate, and fresh
lettuce upon another, and placed them upon the table, while Mrs. Steiner
cut the bread and got a pitcher of new milk.
"Now, Fritz, before we take our suppers, here is a plate upon which you
can break some pieces of bread and soften it with this good milk."
"What for?" asked the boy in surprise.
"For Pixy, who is waiting so patiently. Could we enjoy our supper
knowing that the poor dumb creature is hungry?"
This was done and the plate placed on the floor by the window, and the
heart of Fritz was filled with pleasure to see Pixy's appreciation of
the good supper.
The potatoes and liverwurst, both beautifully browned, were placed upon
the table, and all sat down.
"Did I set the table nicely, Aunt Fanny?" asked Fritz.
"Yes, very well indeed, except that you forgot the napkins. Please get
four out of that drawer, and then choose the places you wish," and she
took her own at the head of the table. Bowing her head she said in
reverent voice, "Dear Jesus, be our guest at this meal and at all our
meals. Bless the good food Thou hast given us, and receive our grateful
thanks. Amen."
"Now, my boys," she continued cordially, "you cannot fail being hungry,
and I hope you will eat heartily and if the meat and potatoes fail us,
we can make out with this good brown and white bread, and butter and new
milk and these stewed pears."
The boys were glad to obey and the viands disappeared like magic. Mrs.
Steiner had many questions to ask about her brother and his family but
would not disturb Fritz until he had finished supper. An old adage came
into her mind as she saw them eat, "When a sheep bleats you may be sure
he has no food in his mouth."
She was glad to see that they heartily enjoyed their supper, and when
finished she made a proposition. "You can rest while I put the place in
order for the night and then we will take a walk."
"Can I take Pixy?" asked Fritz eagerly.
"Certainly, if you lead him by his cord, and if a policeman speaks to
you about your dog having no tag or muzzle, tell him that you are from
the country and are only visiting Frankfort, which is your reason for
not having one or the other."
"But I am afraid the policeman will take him. I would rather stay here
with him."
"There is no danger of him taking the dog from you. The most he could do
would be to make you pay a fine; and I am sure he will not do that when
we explain matters to him. Now we will go."
"Where are all the people going?" asked Fritz when they reached the
street. "At home we only see a crowd when the church service is over and
that is but for a little while. Here the street seems alive all the
time."
"Yes, Frankfort has more than three hundred thousand inhabitants and of
course many are on the street, some caring for business, others for
pleasure, and some, like us, are sight-seeing."
"Just see that beautiful place like a rich man's garden!" said Franz,
"with trees and plants and flowers, and so many people walking there."
"Yes, they are the public gardens or promenades, and are in place of
what was once the fortifications of the city. In the early part of the
nineteenth century part of them were taken away and this splendid girdle
of plants and beautiful walks took their place."
"Oh, it is lovely, lovely!" exclaimed Paul. "I never before saw a garden
lighted, and with so many gas lamps that it is as bright as if the sun
were shining. Can we go in?"
"Yes, but we will wait here a little while. Do you see this beautiful
lake surrounded by trees? In a few minutes you will see a beautiful
scene which will surprise you."
"Oh, this is the surprise," cried the boys in a breath, for like magic
myriads of gas lights sprang up along the line of the trees and the Main
river. It was a bewildering sight to the country boys, who had no words
to express their pleasure.
"And two rows of lights are across the river," exclaimed Paul.
"Yes, they are on the fine new bridge over the Main; and above is the
old bridge and several others which you can visit while in Frankfort."
They crossed the bridge and looked at the great dome of the cathedral,
and while they were gazing, eight solemn strokes sounded from its clock,
and other clocks over the city struck the hour.
"We have but one clock and one church-tower in our village," remarked
Franz. "The boys in Frankfort don't get the chance to say the clock is
wrong when they are late to school."
Thus chatting, they reached the bridge, and, leaning upon the parapet,
gazed at the brilliant scene.
"See, Aunt Fanny, what is that coming down the river? A whole company of
boats filled with people, and with music, and with flags flying?"
"That is a regatta, or sailing match. It will go under this bridge and
down to the old one, then will turn and go up to that island where they
will all leave the boats and will have games and refreshments."
As the boats passed under the bridge Fritz would have liked to jump down
among the group of boys in the first boat; and he watched intently as
the merry company passed up the river and turn, and then stepped off on
the island.
"Aunt, do let us go to the old bridge, and look at the people," he said
eagerly.
Mrs. Steiner was glad to oblige, and they hurried to the bridge to see
the boats land, each one greeted by cheers. The whole company joined in
a march to the sound of martial music by the band, then a short speech
was listened to and when finished our triplets joined in the cheers, and
the throwing up of hats without in the least knowing what the speech was
about, or by whom made.
Fritz was so full of delight over the whole affair that he rubbed his
hands in glee as he made known his resolution to be a cloth merchant
when he was old enough and would come to live in Frankfort, and meant to
join the rudder club. "I will tell them now that I will join," he ended
enthusiastically.
"I think it will be a little too early, my boy," smiled his aunt.
"I don't wish to be too late."
"But it will be some years before you are a merchant."
"I am going to join the marines," exclaimed Franz eagerly. "Father
wishes me to be a forester, and I had not made up my mind what I would
be. Now I know. Yes, I will join the marines. Oh, that is a jolly life."
"Are you sure of that, my boy?" asked a man who stood near them on the
crowded bridge, and Mrs. Steiner turned to greet August Stayman whom she
had known from his boyhood, and introduced the boys to him.
"And so you think the life of a marine a jolly one?" he asked, turning
again to Franz. "Well, our kaiser will need good strong men, and I will
not discourage you. I was three years on the sea in storm and adventure,
on a war-vessel, and am yet living and in good health."
"And what are you now?" asked Fritz.
"I am the owner of a cloth and clothing store, and also a tailor, and
can wield the needle as well as ever, although my hands had been
hardened by the heavy ropes."
"Did you have to come to Frankfort to join the marines?" asked Franz.
"No, I was born in Frankfort on the shore of the Main. People used to
call me a water-rat; and they were right, for I became a more expert
seaman on the Main than do many on the ocean. My longing was to be a
seaman, and my mother, who was at first opposed to it, gave consent, and
I have never regretted it. I looked death in the face many times, but
escaped without a scratch."
The boys were deeply interested in this conversation, but it was
interrupted by a succession of splendid fireworks on the island which
surprised and delighted them beyond measure. They almost held their
breath while watching an especially brilliant piece reflected in the
water.
"Now, boys, we will go," said Aunt Steiner when the last exhibition of
the evening fireworks went up, making the words "good-night" high in the
air; "and we will call at a confectioner's for a glass of ice-cream
soda."
"Let me have the pleasure of showing some attention to your young
guests," said Mr. Stayman. "I shall be pleased to accompany you to the
store."
Mrs. Steiner gave willing assent, and soon the five thirsty ones found
themselves upon comfortable seats under the awning in front of the store
and Mr. Stayman gave the order for five glasses of ice-cream soda with
cake. This was a pleasant ending to the first evening of sight-seeing in
Frankfort, and the triplets realized that "their lines had fallen in
pleasant places."
As they were separating Mrs. Steiner thanked Mr. Stayman for his
kindness, and he in turn invited her guests to visit his store, which
was eagerly agreed to by Fritz, who considered the clothing business
exactly in his line.
"Then you expect to be a clothing merchant, do you?" asked his new
acquaintance.
"Yes, a merchant in the manufacturing branch of the business," was the
reply in a slightly pompous tone and manner.
"Well, then it may be that you will come to Frankfort and learn the
business of me."
"Study to be a tailor? No, I do no care to learn to sew."
"What have you against the trade of tailoring? Do you know any that is
more honorable? Is it not our business here upon earth to serve our
fellow-men? And are not our fellow-men well served by having clothes
made for them? If a tailor understands his business and works at it in a
faithful, honest manner, he is as much to be respected as a kaiser who
rules his people in a just and faithful manner. Listen to this little
rhyme:
"'Not everyone can wear a kaiser's hat,
Not everyone must daily gutters sweep;
Yet everyone can do his honest work,
In palace or in hut his charge can keep.'
"Do not think I am censuring you, my dear boy, but never, never speak
disparagingly of any honest work."
"That little verse pleases me," remarked the quiet but observing Paul.
"My father often says the same thing but not in verse. He says that work
is no disgrace to anyone. And he tells his pupils that the smut that is
upon the hands of a toiling man can be washed off by soap, but no soap
can wash away the smutty word that comes from the lips."
"That is true indeed," commented Mrs. Steiner, "and now we must journey
toward home and the blessed land of sleep, as my dear mother always
called the bedroom. And she was right, for a comfortable bedroom is
indeed a blessed place to the weary one at the close of a hard day's
labor or the child wearied with play."
They bade Mr. Stayman a cordial farewell, and, taking another glance at
the gay scene about them, returned to the quiet flat.
The boys began to realize how tired they were when they reached number
37, and went directly to their room and to bed.
When all was quiet, the careful aunt went in and just as she had
expected, found no one had thought to put out the light. Moreover,
Fritz was lying with his feet upon the raised part of the lounge and his
head on the low part.
"Fritz, dear boy, Fritz!" she said, shaking him by the shoulder, "wake
up! You must not sleep with your head so low."
"Oh, aunt," he said plaintively, "let me sleep. I am all right."
"No, you are not all right, and you shall sleep the whole blessed night
when you get in a more comfortable position. Don't you see that your
feet are on the pillow where your head ought to be?"
"Yes, but I was sleeping so well. Aunt, see you turned the lounge the
other way, the head was down this way when we first came."
"Yes, Fritz, you are right. I did turn it that you might not be waked by
the sun shining upon your eyelids. Now step off, quick, and put your
heels in their proper place."
"Oh, aunt, indeed I am satisfied. Please do not make me get up."
"But I am not satisfied," and Mrs. Steiner helped him rise and still
half asleep he dropped back upon the lounge with his head upon the
pillow. She kissed his fair forehead, took up the lamp, and glanced at
the three sleepers, perfect pictures of healthy, happy boyhood.
"Now, Fritz, is not that a more comfortable way to sleep?" she asked,
but there was no response for he was fast asleep.
"It would be a happy day for me, if he could come to Frankfort and live
with me," she said to herself, "but not as I will, but as God wills. May
He protect them all through life, and keep them pure of heart as now;
and ten years hence may they look as openly and honestly into the faces
of their fellow-creatures as they do now. Let them not seek worldly
honors in preference to the favor of God."
Then she went softly from the room to her own apartment.
Pixy was the first to awake the next morning, and had a good run in the
grassy backyard to get an appetite for breakfast.
"Now it is time to wake our sleepers," said Mrs. Steiner, and went to
the door of the room to call them.
They were too sound asleep to hear the call, and she opened the door and
looked in. Upon the floor on the side of the bed occupied by Paul lay
the pillow, and on the floor by the side of Franz's place lay the sheet.
Fritz had lost his blanket during the night, and, not more than half
awake, had reached out for it and gotten his handkerchief, which he had
spread over his shoulders, and his head was resting upon the chair which
his careful aunt had placed in front of the head-piece of the lounge.
"Wake up, sleepers!" she said cheerfully. "The sun has been up this long
while. There is only one washstand, but you can take turns at it; and
there is a pitcher of cool fresh water. Now make yourselves neat as
quickly as possible that you may be ready for breakfast."
She returned to the kitchen and presently the odor of frying sausage and
steaming coffee floated into the room, and a little later the triplets
stood beside Mrs. Steiner, neat, refreshed and in splendid spirits.
"Pixy has been trying to take a bath in the pan of fresh water that I
set out for the birds," said Mrs. Steiner, "and as he could not get into
it, he dipped a foot in as does a cat. All animals try to be clean if we
give them the chance. Take that largest tin basin, Fritz, fill it with
water, dip this dust brush in it, and wash him. It will answer almost as
well as if he were put in a tub. See, he seems to understand what I am
saying and wags his tail as if to say, 'yes, little mother, all animals
love a bath, and would be clean if given the chance.'"
The boys hurried away and gave Pixy his bath which he certainly enjoyed,
and had just finished when Mrs. Steiner called them to breakfast. They
were about to take their places when Mrs. Steiner asked Fritz if he had
not forgotten something.
"No, Aunt Steiner, I cannot think of anything that I have forgotten," he
said.
"Go back to the kitchen, dear, and you will see Pixy's dish with bits of
bread in it, softened and made richer by having some of the sausage
gravy upon it. He smelled it, as did you while it was cooking, and we
must not disappoint him. Go set his breakfast on the porch for him, and
then we will have ours."
This was done, and all took seats, the blessing was asked, and then Mrs.
Steiner in her pleasant way called attention to the pure white linen
tablecloth.
"You see, boys," she said, "that it is white and spotless; and you
perhaps do not know how much labor there is in placing even one piece of
washing in this fine condition. Now, I wish one of you to pour the
coffee, and pass the cups around without spilling any."
"Let me pour it, Aunt Fanny," said Fritz, and he poured a cupful for
each person and passed it without spilling a drop, while Aunt Steiner
served the sausage.
Then Fritz poured his own coffee, and in passing it to his place he
noticed a tiny stain at Paul's plate. Immediately a discussion arose
between them as to who was to blame in the matter.
"Never mind," said Mrs. Steiner soothingly, "I am satisfied that the
whole cup of coffee has not flowed over the cloth. We will cover the
stain with the mantle of love and charity in the shape of a clean
napkin."
It was such a satisfaction to Fritz to see it hidden that he was ready
to ask a question.
"Aunt Fanny," he said, "where are we to go to-day?"
"Every place is new to you, and you can go where you prefer, but on
horses that do not eat oats."
The boys understood that she meant that they must go on foot; and were
well satisfied.
"Our horse at home eats oats," remarked Franz, "and loves sugar. Every
morning, when papa is ready to ride to the forest mamma goes to the gate
with him, with a lump of sugar for Betty, and always says, 'Now, Betty,
be a good little horse to-day and bring your master safely home to his
wife and children this evening. Do you understand?' and she does really
seem to understand and neighs gently as much as to say 'I will.'"
"Can you go out alone, do you think, or do you wish me to go with you?"
asked Mrs. Steiner when breakfast was finished.
"I am sure we could go alone," replied Fritz. "If we get lost we will
ask the way to 37 Bornheimer street."
They put on their straw hats for the march, and Pixy, who evidently
thought that they were going home, sprang up in delight, and was so full
of frolic that Fritz could scarcely fasten the cord to his collar.
"Now, are you going out without one of you thinking of something you
have left undone?" asked Mrs. Steiner gently. "Will you not write one
line to your parents to tell them of your safe arrival?"
"Yes, truly we forgot it," and the three looked at each other, then laid
aside their hats. Fritz ran to his satchel for paper and envelopes, but
his aunt told him that post-cards would be sufficient and supplied them
with three, saying that they could write letters later.
"Would it not be better to wait and get scenery cards?" asked the
thoughtful Paul; "scenes of something we will see while we are out
to-day?"
"No, write now, and just a few words that your parents may get them this
evening. It may perhaps save them sleepless nights."
The triplets sat down immediately to the business of writing home. Franz
wrote so large that he could only get upon it the few words: "My dear
father and mother and sister: We got safely to Frankfort last evening."
Fritz, with his usual frugality, used but a third part of his postal,
and Paul took the middle course, and neatly filled his card.