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Page 22 text:
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16 THE SPECTATOR The Hand qf the Weak CA TRUE STORYD. WHAT Monte-Carlo is to France, that Baden-Baden is to Ger- many, though in not so marked a degree, for French blood is not so content with ordinary recreation as is the German. Not many years ago there lived in the hills just outside the city of Baden a simple peasant by the name of Heinrich von Peisen. With his wife and little girl, Gertrude, he occupied a small milk farm, the produce of which he sold in Baden and Rastatt. With this income he could doubtless have lived pleasantly had the farm not been mortgaged. As it was, however, he was barely able to pay interest on the debt by his and his wife's combined efforts. Thus Gertrude, being brought, up so economically, had from her first recollection saved all the pennies given to her or earned by running errands, until at the age of eight she had in her possession exactly one German dollar. One Saturday, to her great delight, she was allowed to accompany her father to town with his load of vegetables. Her father was unusually silent and did not respond to her conversation, but sat gloomily holding the lines. Little Gertrude noticed this and it troubled her, so that she asked, What is the matter, father?, My child, said he, 1 am troubled because we can no longer live on our farm, but must move away. The crops this year have been a failure, and we must go. Gertrude's heart swelled with sympathy and sorrow, and she restrained her tears with effort. Then she remembered her dollar, and she thought at first of giving it to him, but on a later impulse resolved to buy him'a gift to cheer him. They were now in the city, and Heinrich pulled up in front of a mansion and went around behind it with samples of his wares. Now, thought Gertrude, while he is gone I will go into one of these pretty stores and buy him a gift. She started down the nar- row street looking everywhere for something to please her father, until she was attracted by a peculiar sight. ln a large room paved with tiles and beautifully frescoed she saw men and women sitting around high tables. They all had scoops in their hands and were moving back and forwards piles of money, most of it gold. Gertrude was so fascinated that at last she went up to a table to see more closely what they were doing. No one paid any atten- tion to her as she approached, but continued shoving the money back and forth, while a man in the center spun a big wheel and cried, Fifty up and tive around. When the wheel stopped he would cry either You win or You lose. How simple, thought
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Page 21 text:
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THE ISPECTATOR 15 George looked up the rest of the boys to whom he communicated their plans. Each boy was to go to the mines alone so as to attract no attention, and all were to be there at 7 o'clock. They all arrived at the appointed time, each creep- ing into his respective corner to await the arrival of Bull's gang. It was not long till they arrived, shout- ing and singing. One fellow fumbled around in his pocket for a match with which to light a torch. This was a signal for the boys to spring from their places and surround them. lt was a ghastly sight to Bull's gang to see the white forms standing in the dim rays of the light shed by the match, which was suddenly dropped by the scared culprits. George demanded in a hollow voice that they carry the stolen goods back to camp, threatening to hang Bull if he refused. Bull, although he hadn't recognized the ghosts, refused. At this moment one of the boys threw a rope over Bull's head and started toward the mouth of the mine. When Bull felt himself being dragged along by the ghost he thought it best to give up. Lemme go, he cried, and l'll take 'em back. The ghosts lighted a torch, and the gang be- gan to carry their hidden plunder at the direction of the mysterious forms in white. When about half way to the clearing they recovered their senses and attempted to run, but the boys were around them, and in the shuf- fle that ensued they pelted Bull and his gang so severely that they were more than willing to take up their load again, carrying it to the site of the burned hunting camp. ' When this was done the ghosts conveyed the grumbling culprits to a small run at the foot of the hill, in which they tumbled the gang one by one, with the warning never to disturb a hunting party's camp again. The next day George and his fellow campers began to rebuild the camp. They had recovered the stolen supplies and were satisfied that Bull and his fellow-evildoers would not repeat their former offense. They went to work with unabatecl zeal, and a few days saw another camp in the clearing, where the boys did not fail to spend a delightful hunting season. R. G., 'o6.
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Page 23 text:
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THE SPECTATOR 17 Gertrude, l will put my dollar in and get a lot of money back. She placed her dollar on a queer figure and watched her dollar dis- appear with the rest. But when no dollar returned she began to cry. The wheel spun again. There was a ring of a bell, and before she knew what had happened the man had shoved a big pile of money before her. Take it, said heg you have won it. So surprised was she that she did not see her father rush in until he had her in his arms. Child, put it back, he cried. But, father, said she, Uthe man said it was mine. Her father gath- ered her up in his arms, his eyes strangely wet, and together they left the place, while the banker cried, You wing hfty up and Eve around. F. R. W., 'o5. A Moonlit Stream I Like the stars of heaven beaming, Through the distant shadows gleaming, Shines the stream, Where beneath the ivy creeping, And the ferns and grasses sleeping, And the graceful willows weeping, Shone the gleam Cf the stream, Deeply hidden in the vistas of my dream. ll Bright the golden moon was shining, On the watery sheet reclining, In my dreamy Silvery throats of light were singing, Airy voices high were ringing, Wreaths and garlands forms were bringing, By the gleam Of the stream, Nlaking night's divinest visions what they seem. lll And to-night the moonlit shadows, And the golden colored meadows, Seem the dream, While the music and the dances And the airy forms and glances Make aught else dissembled trances, Ee'n the beam On the stream, Which reflects the liquid image of my theme. i-'o5.
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