PIXY'S EARNINGS
Soon the city lay behind them and they entered the avenue lined with
great trees which led to the Forest-house, a favorite resort of the
people of Frankfort.
As soon as they reached the beautiful grounds, Mrs. Steiner rested upon
a rustic chair and her brother took a seat beside her, and rolling his
handkerchief in a ball, as he had often done before in playful mood, he
showed it to Pixy and then while Fritz held his hands over his pet's
eyes, he threw it far away. Pixy bounded away the moment the hands were
removed, sniffed about through the grass, and in a very short time
returned with the handkerchief. As it was white, it was easily seen in
the grass, so Mr. Heil showed Pixy the black leather letter-case that he
always carried with him, and threw it near a clump of tall bushes. Pixy
ran off, brought it back, but instead of waiting to be applauded and
petted he hurried away, and soon returned with a new pocketbook which
he would deliver to no one but Mr. Heil.
"Some visitor has lost it," said Mrs. Steiner, "and no doubt is worrying
over the loss."
"Yes, and it feels bulky. There may be things of value in it," replied
her brother. "We must try to find the owner."
"Open it, father," said Fritz, "it may be that the owner's name is in
it."
"Yes, it may be, but I prefer to wait until we have a witness other than
ourselves for we are strangers here."
"Why should we not be witnesses enough, father?"
"Because some one may have found it, taken money from it and thrown it
away, and we might be blamed."
"What can you do about it, father?"
"I will take it to the music pavilion. Perhaps some one in the crowd is
the owner."
At that moment the band stationed in the pavilion began playing _The
Watch on the Rhine_, and Mr. Heil and his party left their place under
the trees and joined the listeners within. As soon as the music was
finished, he called a waiter to him. "Will you please ask the proprietor
to favor me by coming here? I have something I wish to say to him."
"Yes," replied the waiter, "but I am sure he cannot come just yet, for
he is intending to speak to the assembly, but I will tell him as soon as
he is at liberty."
A little later the proprietor requested the attention of the guests, and
announced that an English visitor had lost his pocketbook and would be
very grateful if the finder would return it to him as it contained some
valuable papers and some English money. It had also German money which
he would give freely to the finder for restoring the pocketbook.
As soon as the announcement was made, the waiter told the proprietor of
Mr. Heil's request and he came immediately to hear what he wished to
say.
"I will announce the finding of it as soon as the band has finished this
number; and I am sure the owner will be rejoiced to hear it for he is
much concerned at the loss of the papers," said the proprietor, "and I
am glad for his sake."
"And please say that the pocketbook was found by Pixy," requested Fritz.
The proprietor promised and hurried away and soon the little party heard
the announcement that a pocketbook answering the description given had
been found by young Mr. Pixy from the Odenwald. The boys could scarcely
restrain their laughter to hear that Pixy had been honored with the
title of "Mr." and they clustered about him, toyed with his ears and his
curly mane, until the dog wondered what he had done that they should
laugh at him.
The Englishman quickly made his way to the group and said with warmth,
as he clasped the hand of Mr. Heil, "I have heard of the Odenwald, and
will from this time hold it in grateful remembrance, knowing that in
that retired place are just and honorable people, and that Mr. Pixy is
one of them."
Mr. Heil and his sister could scarcely restrain their smiles at hearing
this, and were about to enlighten him as to who found the pocketbook and
how it happened when he looked around at the three boys.
"Now tell me," he said, "which of the three is Mr. Pixy?"
"No one of them; it was our dog that found your pocketbook and his name
is Pixy."
"Your dog! Now how shall I reward _him_? Will you please tell me your
name?"
"Yes, my name is Frederick Heil, and in reply to your first question,
I will say that my dog does not need anything, although I thank you for
your kind wish to reward him."
"Pray, Mr. Heil, accept this five hundred marks to use to the advantage
of your dog in any way you think best."
"Please excuse me," replied Mr. Heil. "There is no way that I can think
of that it could be used for Pixy. He really needs nothing."
"But, my friend, please respect my wish to express my gratitude in the
only way I can. You cannot know what the finding of these papers has
been to me. You will do me the greatest of favors if you will tell me
if there is any way that you can use this money."
"I believe you fully and will tell you where your five hundred marks
would do more good than can be told. In my neighborhood has been founded
a home and school for poor children. It is but a short distance from my
home, and every day at noon our Pixy goes to the schoolyard to play with
the children. The matron calls him her black servant, for he is so
helpful in caring for the children. If you will give the five hundred
marks to the school, Pixy shall take it to it, and there will be great
joy over the gift, for we have a hard struggle to keep up supplies for
the home."
"It will be a great pleasure to me to give it to such a worthy cause,
and you can do me no greater service than to accept it."
"I do accept it gratefully, for just at this time there are changes to
be made in the building, and there was no money to buy the materials and
pay for the work. Only assure me that it will not inconvenience you, and
I will accept the generous gift gladly."
"I can give you this assurance truthfully. I do not need it and am glad
to help in a worthy cause."
"It is indeed a worthy cause. At first it appeared to be a hopeless
undertaking to try to establish a home on such slender means as we could
command, but we have struggled along, and now this sum of money is
indeed a Godsend."
Fritz saw an opportunity for him to speak and going to Mr. Heil took his
hand. "Father," he said, "I have often thought since leaving home that I
should not have brought Pixy to Frankfort, and I knew that you all
thought it very foolish in me. You see now that it was after all a good
thing, for through him you have gotten money needed for the home and
school. Had it not been for him, some one might have found it who would
not have given it to the owner."
"Yes, in this instance your foolishness has brought a good result, but,
as a rule, trouble follows when a boy does what he knows that his
parents would disapprove. Give the gentleman your hand and thank him for
the good gift to our Children's Home."
This was done and the stranger thanked him in turn for the good turn
Pixy had done him, and Fritz returned to his place beside Aunt Steiner
prouder than ever of his dog.
"I have great interest in the Odenwald for the reason that my ancestors
belonged to that green mountain region," remarked the Englishman, "but
it has not been in my time that any of them have lived there. My great
grandfather was a German and a native of the Odenwald country. He
married an English lady, and would have lived in England had she not
been willing to come to Odenwald which was, in those early days, a
wilderness. She knew that he longed to return to his native land, and
said, 'Whither thou goest I will go.' When my great-grandfather died,
she returned to England with her two sons and her daughter. One of these
sons was my grandfather. I have held in remembrance my German ancestry,
and have wondered if any of the descendants of my great-grandfather's
relatives are in the Odenwald."
"I think that I can give you some information, Mr. Urich," replied Mr.
Heil.
"How did you know my name?" asked the Englishman in surprise. "I did not
mention it, and you did not ask."
"There was no need, for I know the history of your family. Forest-master
Urich was the first of the name in the Odenwald, and his son--your
great-grandfather--was also my great-grandfather on his sister's side of
the house.
"Your great-grandfather was named Otto, and was an educated and cultured
gentleman. Your great-grandmother was named Mary Beyer and was one of
four sisters. Your grandfather, also named Otto, was the second son of
the forest-master. So you see that your family history is also mine, and
the same blood runs in our veins, although we do not bear the same name.
The old people of Odenwald have told me what their ancestors have told
them of the forest-master, Otto Urich."
"Mr. Heil, was he the forest-master who lived in the same forest-house
where we live?" asked Franz.
"Yes, the same log-building. Has your father ever told you of these
forest-masters who once inhabited it?"
"Yes, he told us that once a member of the consistory came from Hanover
to learn of the customs of the people of the Odenwald that he might
write an article for publication. Some one had told him that one curious
custom was that the fathers whipped their children every morning, and
this punishment was to last all day. No matter how badly the children
acted the rest of the day, they had received their punishment and there
would be no more that day. The sons of Forest-master Urich were so
amused at hearing this that every morning while the stranger staid in
the neighborhood they yelled as if being cruelly beaten, and the visitor
published the article in which was mentioned the barbarous custom of the
people of the Odenwald. Forest-master Urich would often say in jest to
his boys, 'Come now, and get your cudgeling, which is to serve you for
the day.'"
"Yes, Franz, that has ever since been one of the sayings in our
neighborhood," laughed Mr. Heil, and Mr. Urich heartily enjoyed hearing
the tradition.
"Friends, relatives!" he commented, "I thought I had not one on my
father's side of the house, and now I have found not only a helping
friend, but one bound to me by the ties of blood. You are rejoicing over
a few paltry marks for your children's home, while I rejoice that
through the unlooked-for incident we have met. I had passed by that tall
shrubbery hours before the pocketbook was found, and I had entirely
forgotten that I had been there when my pocketbook was missing. Had it
not been for the sharp scent of little Pixy, I am quite sure I would
have been compelled to return to England without it."
"Yes, Pixy did help us all," said Mrs. Steiner, "and I have done the
poor little dog much injustice. He is a prince in disguise, and has done
two beautiful deeds at one and the same time by earning five hundred
marks for the poor children's home, and introducing us to a relative of
whom we are proud."
"Who is this relative?" was asked in the well-known voice of Uncle
Braun, and the welcome visitor stepped into the circle of friends.
"Dear Uncle Braun," cried Fritz, "we are so glad to tell you that Pixy
found a new uncle from England, and five hundred marks for the poor
children's home. Now, wasn't it good that I brought him to Frankfort?"
"It certainly was. And is this the new relation? Perhaps he is mine
also," and he held out his hand to Mr. Urich, which was grasped
cordially.
As Mr. Heil and Mr. Braun were cousins on their mother's side and
descended from the Forest-master Urich, their relation to the Englishman
was equal and they sat and conversed with hearty appreciation of each
other's society, at the same time listening to the sweet music which
floated out from the pavilion.
"Excuse me a moment from your congenial company," said Mr. Urich,
finally, and went to the part of the ground where vehicles of all kinds
were kept.
"I have ordered an excursion carriage," he said to Mrs. Steiner, upon
returning, "which will take us all to your door, if you will allow us
the pleasure."
"I accept the kindness gladly," replied Mrs. Steiner, "and hope that
Brother Fritz can accompany us. He is on his way to Cassel."
"Yes, I will have time to go with you, and will then have time to take
the evening train for Cassel."
"You shall not lose any time by it," said Mr. Urich, "for I will take
you directly to the depot from your sister's house."
"And you can leave Uncle Braun at his own door," suggested Fritz.
"Certainly I will, unless he will return with me and pass the evening."
It was a speedy and pleasant trip with a pair of spirited horses and a
good driver and the boys could scarcely believe that they had reached 37
Bornheimer street. They bade Mr. Urich good-bye and thanked him for the
pleasure he had given, and Mr. Heil accompanied his sister up the steps
to her door. There they found a boy from the telegraph office who was
just about to depart with his message, having had no response to his
ringing of the bell.
"Whom is it for?" asked Fritz.
"For Mrs. Steiner."
"Oh, Brother Fritz," she said, "it is from your wife. I telegraphed to
her this afternoon that Fritz had gone home, and asked her to send a
message to me upon his arrival."
"Open it and see what she says," requested Mr. Heil, and she complied
quickly and read: "Last train in. No Fritz. I am terribly anxious."
"Of course she is, but don't worry, sister," said Mr. Heil, noticing
the tears in her eyes. "I will stop off at the telegraph office and send
word to her that Fritz is here and will be home on Tuesday."
This was a great satisfaction to Mrs. Steiner. They all bade him
good-night and entered her little home, going almost immediately to
their rooms, weary with the excitements and pleasures of their day.
They slept soundly all night and until late the next morning, but ate
breakfast in time to dress carefully for church, for Mrs. Steiner would
not permit any one under her roof to remain at home if able to go. They
came home to a good luncheon which Mrs. Steiner had prepared before the
boys were up, and then attended a service in the great Cathedral that
afternoon. They had passed a profitable day, and in the evening sat on
the porch and chatted a little while before going to bed.
"Papa told me at the Forest-House last evening what we are to do
to-morrow," remarked Fritz. "We are to leave here on the train at eleven
o'clock and go to Umstadt. There we are to take dinner at the Swan
hotel, and walk in the afternoon as far as that little village where we
took dinner the day we came and stay there all night, and the next day
we will walk on home. The Trojans will see that we are walking and will
not know but we walked all the way unless we tell them."
"But why need you care if they do know that you rode part of the way
both in coming to Frankfort, and going home?" asked his aunt.
"Because we told them that we were going to walk all the way, and we
expected to do so, and they will plague us, and say we couldn't do it."
"Your satchel is to be sent by express, is it, Fritz?" asked Mrs.
Steiner.
"No, Aunt Fanny. While you were talking to Uncle Braun and the new
cousin, papa said that he would stop here on his way from Cassel and
bring it home with him, and he will bring the bird cage and bird for
sister. So we will have only our knapsacks as we had when we came. He
said for me to put the tin horn and the grater in the satchel and not
come through our village looking like a traveling tinker. I told him not
to tell anybody about my being arrested, for the Trojans might hear it
and would plague me."
The next morning at eleven the boys set out for home, Mrs. Steiner
accompanying them to the depot. The fates seemed to favor Fritz, for
when they reached the platform an old lady called from the car window,
"You can bring your dog in here if no one else objects; I am a friend to
dogs," and another lady and an old gentleman in the compartment agreed
that they had no objection to having Pixy for a fellow traveler.
The triplets bade Mrs. Steiner good-bye and thanked her for her kindness
to them, and she in turn invited them to come to visit her whenever
their parents were willing.
"Your dog is young, I think," remarked the old gentleman.
"Yes," replied Fritz, "he is young, but he is very smart."
"Indeed!" commented the old gentleman. "In what way has he given
evidence of his intelligence?"
"He earned five hundred marks on Saturday."
The old gentleman frowned, but Fritz, not noticing it, continued, "and
he found a cousin of my father, who lives in England."
"Indeed! Then if your dog has such keen scent as to reach to England,
perhaps he will go a step farther and tell us whether the old man in
the moon smokes cigars or a pipe."
"But I am telling you the truth!" insisted Fritz.
The old gentleman paid no attention to him, but, taking up his paper,
commenced reading attentively.
"Fritz, you ought to tell him how Pixy earned the money and found the
cousin," whispered Paul.
"No, he won't listen," replied Fritz. And he was right; the old
gentleman believed that the boy was treating him with disrespect by
telling him such a wild story.
When the train reached Umstadt, and the boys came in sight of the Swan
inn, they saw the landlord on the stone steps, his thumbs in his vest
pockets and his fingers moving as if playing the piano.
"So, here you are again!" he exclaimed heartily. "Did you get homesick?"
"No, but school begins on Wednesday, and we wished to be on time."
"That was sensible. How did your dog act in that ant-hill, Frankfort?"
"He did well. He earned five hundred marks."
"Five hundred marks! Did he perform tricks in a circus? Of course, we
know that he is a cute dog. Of course you have plenty of nickels now,
and if you had sent on your order for dinner, you could have had spring
chicken, peas, early apples, and other good things."
"Pixy did not perform in a circus, but he found a pocketbook belonging
to an English gentleman. It had valuable papers in it, and English
money, beside five hundred marks of German money."
"And that you kept."
"No, no! Please don't think so meanly of us."
"That is what I understood by what you said."
"No; let me tell you how it was. The gentleman who owned the pocketbook
gave it to my father for the poor children's home in our neighborhood."
"Well, now I call that generous; and I am glad to know that we have such
people in the world. If you are ready for dinner, come right to the
table and take seats."
The boys were glad that they did not have to wait, and followed the
broad-shouldered man to the dining-room. The landlady was already at the
table, as were Letta and Peter, and all welcomed the young travelers
cordially.
The soup was finished and the boys looked toward the kitchen door,
wondering what substantials would be forthcoming. They had not long
to wait, for the cook appeared with a veritable Chimborazo of an
apple-dumpling mountain, piled tier upon tier; and there had to be a
scattering of dishes to make place for the platter. The three Grecian
heroes gave glances of approval and satisfaction. They had a special
fondness for apple-dumplings, and approved of the size of each,
calculating that there would be enough for all, no matter how insatiable
the appetites. They took their forks in hand as a warrior would his
spear, and the landlady had the gratification of seeing that city
delicacies had not depreciated her humble country food in the opinion
of the three.
After they had paid the cook the compliment of eating to the limit of
possibility, and had laid down their forks preparatory to leaving the
table the landlord gave them a bit of excellent advice.
"Boys," he said, "did you ever hear this rule for keeping in good
health?"
'After breakfast work and toil;
After dinner rest awhile;
After supper walk a mile.'
"I would advise that you do not set out upon your journey so soon after
eating, but rest at least half an hour, and for that purpose we will go
to the reception-room, where there are comfortable chairs."
As soon as they were seated, and the landlady had taken her knitting,
she asked if they had learned anything new in Frankfort.
"Yes," said Fritz, eagerly; "we learned to make coffee, and to cook
potatoes and other things. My aunt let us help her."
"That was good; people ought to learn everything that comes in their
way. Now tell us what you saw in Frankfort."
Nothing could have been pleasanter to the triplets than to live over
again those hours of sight-seeing, and all three helped tell of their
visit.
"Now listen to this," said the landlord, who had picked up a Frankfort
paper:
"An Englishman lost his pocketbook on Saturday evening in the grounds of
the Forest-house, in the suburbs of Frankfort. It contained valuable
papers and money, and was found by a young man named Pixy from the
Odenwald country, and delivered to the owner."
The landlord and his wife laughed at the mistake of the reporter until
tears stood in their eyes; and then the three boys repeated the story
again, and told of the English cousin, and of Uncle Braun, and ended by
saying that they felt that they knew everybody and every place in
Frankfort.
When they put on their knapsacks to depart, each took out his purse to
pay their bill.
"Oh, no, boys," said the landlord, "I cannot take pay for your very
plain dinner. You were our guests and were not the least trouble."
"Oh, thank you! thank you!" they said in concert, and Paul voiced the
opinion of all, when he said that had they ordered it, they could not
have gotten anything they would have enjoyed more.
The three then took generous tips from their purses, and put the money
in the hand of their host.
"Will you please give this to Letta and Peter?" they asked.
"Certainly, certainly! and I thank you in their names for it. And now,
boys, you will have to walk several miles to reach the little village
where Fritz's father said you would stay over night on your way home."
"Did you see father?" asked the boy in surprise.
"Certainly! He would not think of going to Frankfort without stopping to
see me."
They shook hands with the innkeeper and his wife, who invited them to
come to see them the next time they went to Frankfort, and then took
their departure for the Odenwald.