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® By Harold M&cGrath K
i Copyright, IVOO,
: By Harold M xGrath.
Tin* old fellow elevated Dofli eye
brow* and shoulders —a deprecating
movement. "They say that of every
hiu. It has become a trade.” If I had
known the old man. I might have said
that he was sarcastic.
"Then there Is no truth In it?” dls
appolntedly.
“Ob. I do not say there is no truth In
the statement If herr will pardon me.
It I* something I do not like to talk
■bout.”
“Ah. then there Is n mystery!” I cried,
with lively Interest, pushing hack my
chair. But the lnnkee{>er shook his
bead determinedly.
“Very well.” I laughed; ”1 shall ask
Crete ben.”
He smiled. The smile said. "Much
good It will do you.” Gretchen was In
the barroom arranging some roses over
tlie (ireplace. Her hands were bare:
they were small and white and sur
prisingly well kept.
“Gretchen,” said'l, “I wnut you to
tell me the legend of the Inn.”
“The legend?”
“Yea; about the princess who wa
born here.”
Gretchen laughed a merry laugh. The
laugh said, “You are an amusing per
•on!”
"Ah, the American Is always after
h'gemls when he has tired of collecting
antiquities. Was there a princess b rn
here? Perhaps. At any rate it Is not
a I gcml. History nor peasantry makes
mention of it. Will herr be so kind as
to carry the ladder to the mantel so 1
may wind the clock V”
I do so. Even at this early stage 1
could see that Oretchen had the fac
ulty of making persons forget what
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they were seeking ami by tin* mere
sound of her voice. And it was 1 who
wound the clock.
“Gretchen.” said 1. “time lags. Make
a servant out of me this morning.”
“Herr does the barmaid too much
honor.” with lowered eyes.
“1 am in the habit of doing anything
1 please.”
“Ah. herr is one of those millionaires
I have rea<4 about!”
"Yes. I am very rich.” I laughed,
but Gretchen did not see the point,
“Come. then, with me, and you shall
weed the knobiauch patch.” Site was
laughing at me, but l was not to bo
abashed.
“To the patch tie it, then!” I cried.
“Aa onion would smell as sweet under
any other name.”
So Gretchen and 1 went Into the
onion patch, and I weened and hoed
and hoed and weeded till my back
a Hied and my hands were the color
of tile soil. Nothing was done satis
factorily to Gretchen. It was “There,
you have ruined the row back of you!”
or “Pull the weeds more gently!” and
sometimes. “Ach. could your friends
see you now!” I suppose that 1 did
not make a pretty picture. The per
spiration would run down my face. 1
would forget the condition of my hands
and push back my hair, which fell like
a mop over my brow, whereat she
would laugh. Once I took her baud
ami helped her to jump over a row. 1
was surprised at the strength of her
grasp.
“What does herr do for a living?
He works so badly as a gardener.”
“I am a journalist,” I answered,
leaning on my hoe and breathing heav
ily.
“Aeh, one of those men who tell
such dreadful stories about kings and
princes, who cause men to go to
war with each other, who rouse the
Ignorant to deeds of violence—one
of those men who are more powerful
than a king because they can undo
him?” She drew away from me.
“Hold on!” 1 cried, dropping the hoe
“What do you know about it?”
“Enough." sadly. “1 read the pa
pers. I always look with fear upon
one of those men who can do so much
good and yet who would do so much
evil.”
I had never looked at it in that
light before.
“M seems to me, Gretchen.” I said
quietly, “that you are about as much
a barmaid as I am a weeder of knob
lanches." The color of excitement tied
from Gretchen’s cheeks, her eyes grew
troubled, and she looked away.
“Gretchen has a secret," said I. “It
la nothing to me what Greteben's
secret is. I shall respect it and con
tinjKl to think of her only as a bar
maid with—With a superior education.”
I shouldered the hoe. “Come, let us
gr> lack. I’m thirsty.”
“Thank you. berr,” was the soft re
ply. Then Gretchen became as dumb,
and our return to the inn was made in
ailence. Once there, however, she re
“l am sorry to uuve put you
at such a disadvantage,” glancing at
my clothes, which were covered with
brown earth.
••I.et that be the least of your trou
bles!" 1 cried gayly. Then 1 bummed
In English;
"So. ho, dear Oretchen, winsome laaa,
I want no tricky wine.
Rut amtx-r nectsr bring to ose.
Whose rich tioui|uet will cling to ms.
Whose spirit voice will unit to me
From out the mug divine!
So, here's your toll—s Wise—swsy.
You Het>e of the Ithine!
No goblet's gold rnesns cheer to me;
Let no cut glsss get nesr to me;
Go, Oret< hen, haste the beer to me
And put tt in the tteicl"
I thought I saw a smile on her lips,
but It was gone before 1 was certain.
“Gott Ini hiinmel!” gasped the aston
Ished Innkeeper as 1 went Into the bar
room. I still bad the hoe over my
shoulder.
“Never mind, mein host. I’ve been
weeding your knohlaueb patch as a
method of killing time.”
"But”— He looked at Gretchen in
dismay.
"It was I who led him there." said
Gretchen In answer to his Inquiring
•yes.
A significant glance passed lietween
them. There was a question In his, a
command In hers. 1 pretended to be
examining the faded tints In the stein
1 held in my band. I was thinking,
“Since when has an Innkeeper waited
on the wlslies of his barmaid?”
There was a mystery after ail.
CHAPTER IX.
1 took my pipe and strolled along the
river bank. Wbat had 1 stumbled in
to? Here was an old inn with rather
a feudal air, but it was only one In a
thousand, a common feature through
out the continent, and yet why had the
gods, when they cast out Hebe, chosen
this particular inn for her mortal resi
dence? The pipe solves many riddles,
and then sometimes It creates a den
sity. I put my pipe into my pocket
and cogitated. Gretchen had brought
about anew order of things. A philo
sophical barmaid was certainly n nov
elty. That Gretchen was philosophical
I had learned in the rose gardens: that
she was also used to giving commands
1 had learned In the onion patch. Hith
erto i had held the onion in contempt;
already 1 had begun to respect it.
Above all, Gretchen was a mystery,
the most alluring kind of mystery—a
woman who was not what she seemed.
How we men love mysteries which are
given the outward semblance of a Di
ana or u Venus! By and by my jour
nalistlc Instinct awoke. Who are those
who fear the newspapers? Certainly
It Is not the guiltless. Of what was
Gretchen guilty? The innkeeper knew
Was she one of ‘hose many couspira
tors who abound In the kingdom? She
was beautiful enough for anything.
And whence came the remarkable like
ness between her and Phyllis? Here
was a mystery Indeed. 1 had a week
before me. In that time I might learn
something about Gretchen even If 1
could solve nothing. I admit that it is
true that had Gretchen been plain it
would not have been worth the trou
ble. But she had too heavenly a face,
too wonderful an eye. too delicious a
mouth, not to note her with concern.
I did not see Gretchen awnln that day.
but as I was watching the moon climb
up. thinking of her and smoking a few
pipes as ;m incense to her shrine, l
heard tier voice beneath my window
It was accompanied by the bass voice
of the Innkeeper.
“But he is a journalist. Is lie safe?
Is anything safe from them?” came to
my ears in a worried accent, a bass.
So the innkeeper, too, was a socialist!
Said an impatient contralto. “So long
as I have no fear why should you?”
“Ach, you will be found out and
dragged back!" was the lamentation In
a throaty baritone. Anxiety raises a
bass voice at least two pitches. "If
you would but return to tiie hills where
there is absolute safety!"
“No. I will uot go back there, where
everything is so dull aud dead. I have
lived too long not to read a face at a
glance. Ills eyes are honest.”
“Thanks, Gretchen.” murmured I
from above. I was playing the listen
er. But. then, she was only a bar
maid.
“And it is so long.” went on the con
traito. "since I have seen a man —a
strong one—l wish to see if my power
is gone.”
“Aha!” thought I. “So you have al
ready laid plans for my capitulation.
Gretchen?”
“But,” said the bass voice once more,
“supposing some of the military should
straggle along? There might be one
who has seen you before. Alas, I de
spair! You will not hide yourself; you
will stay here till they find you.”
I fell to wondering what in the world
Gretchen had done. "1 have not been
to the village since I was a little girl.
Dressed as I am, who would recognize
me? No one at the castle, for there is
no one there but the steward. Would
you send me away?”
“God forbid! But this American?
You say you can read faces. How
about the other one?”
Silence.
“Yes. how about him?”
Said Gretchen: "We are not Infalli
ble And perhaps I was then much to
blame.”
“No. we are not infallible. That Is
the reason why you should take no
chance." was the final argument of the
innkeeper.
“Hush!" said Gretchen.
"Confound the pl|ie!" 1 muttered. It
had fallen over the window sill.
Five minutes passed. 1 heard no
sound Glancing from the side of the
window I saw that Gretchen and the
Innkeeper were gone.
Yes. there wasn't any doubt about it;
Gretchen was a conspirator. The po
lice were hunting for her, and she was
threatened with discovery It was be
yond my imagination what she eould
have done. Moreover, she was rather
courting danger. The military post
was only five miles down the river
The one thing which bothered me was
the "him” who had suddenly intruded
upon the seene. Invisible, but there,
like Banquo's ghost. Perhaps her
beauty had lured some fellow to follow
her fortunes, and bis oversea! or lack
of It had brought ruin to some plot
"Gretchen." said 1 as 1 Jumped Into
t>ed. "whoever he was. he must have
beeu a duffer.”
Her serene highness the Princess
Hlldegarde was in Jericho, and Hillars
along with her, where 1 had consigned
them.
Next morning Gretchen waited upoD
me at breakfast. She was quiet and
answered my questions In monosyl
lables Presently she laid something
at the side of my plate. It was my
pi[>e 1 looked at her. but the leads of
my eyes could not plumb the depths id
hers
"Thanks.” said I. "It dropped from
my window last night while I was
playing the disgraceful part of eaves
dropper ” I dare say she had expected
anything but this candid confession.
It was very cuunlng In me. She
knew that 1 knew she knew. Had 1
lied 1 should have committed an Irrep
arable blunder As It was she lifted
her chin and laughed
“Will von forgive me?”
“Yes; for yon certainly wasted youi
time.”
"Yes, Indeed: for I am Just as much
tu the dark as ever.”
“And will remain so.”
“I hope so A mystery Is charming
while It lasts. Really, Gretchen, I did
not mean to play the listener, and I
promise that from now on”—
“From now on!" cried Gretchen.
“Does not herr leave today?”
“No; I am going to spend a whole
week here.”
There was a mixture of dismay an.l
anger in her gaze.
“But, as 1 was going to say, I shall
make no effort to pry into your affairs.
Honestly, I am a gentleman.”
“1 shall try to believe you,” said she.
the corners of her mouth broadening
Into a smile.
She condescended to show me through
the rose gardens and tell me what she
knew about them. It was an interest
Ing lecture. And in the evening she
permitted me to row her about the riv
er. We were getting on very well un
der the circumstances.
The week was soon gone, and Greti
chen and I became very good friends.
Often when she had nothing to do we
would wander along the river through
the forests, always. 1 noticed, by a
route which tool; us away from the
village. Each day 1 discovered some
new accomplishment. Sometimes 1
would read Heine or Goethe to her.
and she would grow rapt and silent
In the midst of some murmurous stan
za 1 would suddenly stop, only to see
her start *nd look at me as though I
had committed a sacrilege, in that I
had spoiled some dream of hers. Then
again I myself would become lost in
dreams, to be aroused by a soft voice
saying “Well, why do you not go on?’
Two people of the opposite sexes read
ing poetry in the woods is a solemn
matter. This is not appreciated at the
time, however. It comes back after
ward.
in all the week I had learned nothing
except that Gretchen was not what*she
pretended to he. But I feared to ask
questions. They might have spoiled
all. And the life was so new to me. so
quiet and peaceful, with the glamour of
romance over it all, that 1 believe 1
could have staid on forever. And some
how Phyllis was fading away, slowly,
inn surely. The regret with which I
had heretofore looked upon her por
trait was lessening each day. from ac
tive to passive. And yet was it be
en use Gretchen was Phyllis in the ideal?
Was 1 falling in love with Gretchen tie
cause she was Gretchen. or was my
love for Phyllis simply renewing itself
in Gretchen? Was that the reason
why the portrait of Phyllis grew less
holding and interesting to me? it was
a complex situation; one I frowned
over when alone. It was becoming
plainer to me every hour that I had a
mystery all of my own to solve. And
Gretchen was the only one to solve it.
1 shall never forget that night under
the chestnuts on the bank of the wide
white river. The leaves were gossip
ing among themselves. They had so
much to talk about, and then they
knew so much! Had not they and
their ancestors filtered the same moon
beams century on century? Had not
tbeir ancestors heard the tramp of the
armies, the clash of the saber, the roar
of the artillery? Had uot a.e hand of
autumn and the hand of death marked
them with the crimson sign? Ah. the
leaves! It is well to press them in
books when they themselves have such
fine stories to tell.
“Gretchen.” said I, echoing my
thoughts, “had I been born a hundred
years ago 1 must have been a soldier
Napoleon was a great warrior.”
“So was Bluclier since it was he
who helped overcome the little Corsi
can.”
The Germans will never forgive Na
poleon.
“But war is a terrible thing.” went
on Gretchen.
“Yes. Imt It is a great educator. It
teaches the vanquished how little they
know.”
“War is the offspring of pride. That
is what makes it so abhorred.”
1 “It is also the offspring of oppres
i cion... That is What makes it so great.”
[to be continued.^
SUGAR CANE CULTURE.
Information Given bv the S'ale A*
rlcultnral Depart in nt.
Question. — Some time since I saw ll
stated Shac good cane could be grows
from the top third of caue. Pleast
write me if this theory cau be relied on.
Any other information touching cant
culture will lucerest south Georgil
planters.
Answer. —lt has been demonstrated
by Dr. W. G. Stubbs, of the Louisian!
Sugar Experiment Station, as well at
other directors, that the top third of thi
caue stalk is not as good, but superiot
for seed purposes. Dr. Stubbs recom
mends that only this portion of tin
plant be used for seed. The tops, how
ever, should not be banked, as is tht
custom where the whole cane is used foi
seed purposes. The laud upon whioli
cane is to be grown auother season
should be thoroughly prepared, and the
rows opened before grinding takes place.
“The top third of the cane,” says Dr.
Stubbs, “should be cut off and planted
in the rows in the usual manner, bul
without stripping. The tops are then
covered by means of a turning plow and
the middles opened to allow draiuaga
To prevent freeziug the cane tops should
be covered from 5 to 6 inches deep. Thil
method of seed saving is the practice ol
many farmers in Louisiana, and is m
longer an experiment.”
The Southern Farm Magazine sayi
that Dr. Stubbs, after six years of expe
riments with a great variety of canes,
has developed a sugar cane which ii
capable of yielding 30 per cent more oi
sugar than the cane now grown in th
state of Louisiana. He claims that this
variety of cane will produce 38 tons to
the acre. The juice yields 16 per cent
of sugar, while the old cane gives an
acreage of 30 to 35 tons, with a 12 pel
cent yield in the juice.
Small bundles of this cane will be
furnished to planters of Louisiana free.
Would it not be a good plan for a few
of our Georgia farmers to interest them
selves iu this new variety of sugar caue,
whicn promises so much for our sistel
state? Dr. Stubbs’address is Audubon
Park, New Orleans, La.—State Agri
cultural Department.
More Puro-Breed Tattle Kor Georgia.
In onr last monthly talk mention wai
made of the instrumentality of the De
partment of Agriculture in connection
with other parties in bringing into
Georgia 100 short-horns and
for the purpose of improving the breeds
of beef cattle. Since that time two more
carloads of pure breeds have been
shipped into the state and sold at fait
prices. All of these, like the first loit,
are young cattle. A short while ago
the prison commissioners purchased
from Mr. Murray Bibcock of Vir
ginia, a 13-months-old Hereford bull
for the prison farm. The animal,
which is one of the handsomest
ever brought into the state, cost S3OO.
Judge Turner is negotiating for a herd
of Hereford heifers for the purpose ol
raising on the prison farm pure stock ta
sell to Georgia farmers for breeding
purposes.
It must be borne in mind that Here
fords are raised for beef and not fol
milk. The cows of this breed furnish
only enough milk to sustain a calf. One
lie 'ds only to look at a Hereford, with
his short legs and long body, to know
that he will furnish abundance of .the
best beef. They are a well-marked
breed, easily distinguished from otuei
cattle by their white heads, legs, bellies
and tails and red sides. The bulls are
very docile and easily managed.
The live stock department is one ol
the best features of the state farm. It is
t)ae intention of the commissioner ta
raise on the farm not only all the meal
needed for the convicts, but also the besi
breeds of cattle and hogs to sell to th<
farmers and stock raisers of Georgia ai
the lowest possible price.—State Agri
cultural Department.
Fattening With Corn.
Questk/x. —What food is best for fat
tening?
Answer. —We know of no better an
swer to this than the following, which
appeared in one of our daily papers:
“For furnishing food for market nfl
food substance known equals corn. Al
falfa, clover, Bermuda, sorghum, arti
chokes, sweej potatoes and peanuts are
all good food to promote growth and
make lean meat; but corn for adding
the plumpness that makes porkers sell,
cannot be improved upon, as far as is al
present known. We can raise more corn
than all the hogs in the world can eat,
and raise hogs enough to eat all the corn
we can grow. This is a fact; uot a
paradpx,”
The best way to use this corn is to
grind it into meal before feeding, for
then it is more digestible.
Raising Hogs.
Question. —By a correspondent from
another state —1. Is it profitable to raise
hogs in North Georgia? 3. Will they
fatten if allowed to range through the
woods?
Answer. —1. A great many hogs are
raised in North Georgia and, like the
beef of that section, find a ready market.
3. During at least seven months of the
year they range the woods and grow fat
tm acorns, chestnuts, hickory nuts and
such other food as they can pick up.
But* of course, like any other stock, hogi
need the attention and care of man to
produce the best results.—State Agri
cultural Department.
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