LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume III, Issue 283, 8 May 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

NOTES FROM A GERMAN BAND. (Concluded.') 'Do you know,' he said then, 'that this child is not Jit, without rest or stimulant, to go so far as the nearest inn ?' ' It's a great pity, sighed Heincr, ' and even the blackberries aren't ripe.' 'But,' the gentleman said after a pause, as if he had been unwilling to say it until he glanced again at the little face he held upon his shoulder, ' I can direct you to a hoiise where I can promise that rest and refreshment will be given to a sick child. The master of the house has been a physician, and he will help you that you may soon have this little fellow walking and playing again in his place among you. I heard him playing well upon the hill to-day, but I neither saw nor heard him at night in the ballroom. How was it ?' For the life of me I couldn't look at him for thinking how kindly he spoke, when that ball had been such a misery for him; and for thinking of the two sad reasons there had been for his not having seen Fritz in his place. ' It was my fault,' saidßehr, quite quietly. ' But I hope he'll be all right again directly. ' I hope so. You have a load to carry too.' ' 0, mine feels no more to me,' said Behr, who, as well as having his 'cello slung behind him, had Fritz's violin in his hand, ' than this does to the child always.' Something in Behr's voice struck us all. Peter always had told us that there was plenty of good in Behr, and now I saw his eyes fixed on him with admiration. ' Cello,' he said, tapping him as near the shoulder as he could, ' you're a brick. Give me something to carry for you.' To my great surprise, Behr handed both the instruments to little Peter; then, to my equally great surprise, he took up Karl, and settled him in a safe though cramped position on his back.

' Here it is,' said our guide, drawing up at a roadside gate, his voice sounding dull and heavy again. Just as much from the look which came over his face, as from my own memory of it, I knew this was the house where he had helped us half a year ago, and I trembled like a baby in my longing for him to come in. I We dare not go,' I said; ' they would punish our impertinence.' ' They will treat the child kindly and wisely, he said. ' Take him gently from me.'

0, but surely it must have been an angel's hand which had closed the eyes of little Fritz in sleep just then, and left that wonderful stillness on his face. We all looked at him silently, and I could not raise my hands to take him; for I trusted that the arms which held him could not let him go. Without a wore to any of us, the gentleman let his horse walk slowly through the garden, and my heart beat thankfully. He dismounted at the door, with Fritz still in his arms, and carried the child in. I forget where the others paused, but I know I was the only one who followed him at once into a bright room filled with sunshine and the scent of roses, and I know that no one was there except the girl who, not many hours before, had parted for ever from him who came in to her now.

'Excuse my walking in, Miss Capon,' he said coldly, though he must have seen as plainly as I did that she had cried instead of slept; ' this little boy, I fear, is very ill, and as all his companions are strangers here, I undertook to guide them to where I knew he would be pitifully treated. Is Dr Capon down ?'

Was it all pity in her face as she stood by Fritz ? A few words of promise and sympathy she uttered, laying the pdlow comfortably on a wide low couch, but I could not hear the words because I stayed near the door.

'Yes, I thought so,' the gentleman answered, as he laid my boy down and moved away; ' I knew you would be kind to him, Mary. ' Piers,' she whispered, bending over Fritz, and even I could see how hard she tried to speak naturally, ' please stay -stay a little. I fear this looks like—'

I could not hear the last word, but instead of going he walked up to the window, and stood there with his back to us. Very soon a gentle gray-haired old gentleman came in, and looked down upon the sleeping child. 'Very sad, my dear,' he said, shaking his head in answer to Miss Mary's pitying glance. ' Let his friends come in, that when his eyes open they may not light upon strangers only; and let me have my surgery key, dear.' I sat down by the couch, on a chair which Miss Mary herself put for me, and I saw the cordial poured through my little lad's white lips; then the others came in, and stood or sat about, drearily watching the little figure on the sofa. Karlschen's sobs were so piteous that Miss Capon brought him to me and put him within my arms, close to his little brother; and though I didn't think of it at the time, I knew afterwards that this was much kinder than if she had taken him away to quiet him. Tfc en she went slowly to the window, but she only stood near to the silent figure there; she didn't speak a word. I saw this plainly, as I sat soothing Karlschen, and waiting for my boy's awaking. * You have, I daresay, never understood it,' the old physician said to us, with a great sympathy in his kind eyes, but this little fellow has never been what we call constitutionally strong. Probably that delicate looking child could in reality bear twice as much fatigue and privation as he could; and Has he just had any shock, or any unusual amount of fatigue or fasting ? I know there must be danger of these in your lives, of course, but there has been something unusual here.'

I answered rapidly, intercepting a nervous effort of Behr's, and I told the doctor that our child had had a very wearing day and night. Seeing Behr's face, how could I mention the fright or the fasting he had caused ? The old physician scrutinised my face intently as I spoke, then turned again to the one upon the pillow. 'lt is a sad thing for you all,' he said. ' I cannot give the slightest hope. Brothers are they?' Before any one of us had ventured to answer, Fritz awoke—awoke with his little brother's hand clasping his, and his little brother's questioning eyes fixed lovingly and longingly upon his face. ' Had we better go away, sir ? Shall I take them all away,' asked Peter, his voice shaking as he addressed the doctor, and looked across to where Behr stood awkwardly hovering over the couch, looking —poor Behr, poor Behr—as if he saw nothing in the room

beyond this weary child, who had been so swift to do his bidding but a few hours ago. 'No need,' the doctor answered, with grave kindness. 'Their going caunot save the little life; their staying cannot hurry the hurrying death.' ' Leader '—the weary eyes upon the pillow, roaming everywhere about the pleasant room, had wandered now to my face—' this is the room, without the firelight.' ' Yes, dear lad;' for I well knew what he meant. Again the wide eyes wandered round and round the sunny room, and I knew what they sought. Presently they brightened suddenly. Through the low open window Fritz had caught sight of the little girl for whom he had been watching. With her hands full of flowers she came into the silent room, and looked up wistfully into her sister's face.

'O, Mary,' she sobbed, in a voice strangely moved and pained for so young a child, ' you are still crying; you are always crying now. Piers'—with a gentle anxious touch—- ' do you make Mary cry ?' I saw the slow long look he gave into Miss Mary's downbent face, but of course I didn't hear what he whispered brokenly, while our boy lay dying in the sunshine, with the little white pink fading on his breast. 'Leader,'Fritz whispered to me then, *I see her in the sunshine. Tell her I remembered.'

'Karlschen, Karl'—the little tight lips tried so hard to smile now, as the weak fingers moved restlessly upon his brother's hand—' tell mother when you go home that I thought of her always, always. Along the straight roads when it seemed so far, and it never seemed so far when I thought of her; and when we stood and played a long time, and it never seemed so long when I thought of her. A 1 ways before I went to sleep, and always when I woke. I tried to think of her in—the wood, but I—couldn't. I could only think of—l forget—Leader, are you there ?'

' I'm here, my darling little fellow,' I whispered, kissing the groping little hands; kissing the eyes on which a shade of the past terror had fallen; kissing the shaking parting lips. Don't go. Tell mother, Karl, that—l tried to, but I couldn't. If I could, I shouldn't have been—frightened. I never was frightened when—l thought of mother, or of—our Father which art in heaven.'

' But, Fritz, you'll come; you'll come!' cried Karlschen, sobbing loudly. ' Mother said we should go home to her together, to Germany.' 'Not—to Germany,' whispered Fritz faintly. ' Peter, is the sun shining still ?' 1 Yes, Fritz, the sun is warm and bright, dear lad.'

'Not—fading?' But Peter could not answer any more. He moved far off, and turned his face against the wall.

' Behr, I'm so glad I found—your bow that day; you remember ?' But Behr's eyes were hidden too, and hia broad chest was heaving violently. 'lt was on the very top of the hill—l think. I couldn't see it at first, but I thought —it must be where we had been playing; so I—went all about, and—Was that the night I was in—the wood ? No —I forget. Behr, Karl is tired—he's little and he's often tired —you won't send him back, or beat him ?' ' Never, never !'

The answer was only mine. I whispered it to soothe him, because I saw that Behr could not utter a word.

' Thank you. .And—Behr, when he cries —he's very little, you know, and—he [often cries—will you help him, please ?' Was it the child's wonderful instinct, or was it a touch of Heaven's own pity, that made him say those words to Behr only, and made him give to Behr that last beautiful childish smile ?

The little feeble hands, groping along Karlschen's sleeve, grew suddenly still. The last panting breath was drawn, and we knew that our bright little lad was one among the angels. 'Dear me! I'd no idea the page would look so blotted when I came to write of that day, because I feel quite happy and content about it now.

I remember how those two, who had parted in anger, stood together in love and trust beside my boy. I see Behr (ay, though his face is saddened with a look lie will not lose for years) always ready to help little Karl; carrying him often when the way is long and hard, setting him nearest the fire when the nights are cold, and giving up to him many an indulgence in which he used to delight. I see the child himself brave and uncomplaining as he never was when his unselfish little brother used to bear all his hardships for him. And when I think of all these things, I know that the mission of that little life, which faded in the sunshine, is fulfilled.

Blurred and blotted, I declare, down to the bottom of the leaf.

' That writing can't go, unless you write it over again,'says Peter, characteristically, But I think my hand will always shake a little, and the words grow dim before me, as I write about that day. So let this go.

A Cleveland girl who mysteriously disappeared the other night wasn't eaten up by a panther nor drowned in the lake. They found her in Bufialo four days after, and she was married to a man six feet high. " And there's the end of it," indignantly remarked Mr Crabtree, of Butts County, Ga., when he bit off the end of Dr Nolen's nose, the other day, for presenting his bill for professional services. " But darkness rests upon her brow" was what one of the ladies of the coloured quartet sang last night, at the Boston Theatre. One of the listeners remarked that he couldn't see how it could be otherwise."

They tell a strange story of a Paris watchmaker for true, and if true, is a striking instance of the power of the imagination over the human frame: Frederick Steibmann had worked at a watch twenty years. It was a new movement, new works, and his own invention. He perfected and set it a-going. He imagined that his soul had passed from his body into that watch, and said, " When the watch stops, I shall die." It had been running a long time, and Steibmann was very particular about winding it regularly. The idea that his life had become subordinated to the watch grew stronger. One day lately the watch showed signs of irregularity. It ran first too fast, and then too slow. Steibmann became very ill. He did not send for a doctor, but for a watchmaker, to see what could be done for the watch. The watchmaker knew nothing about that particular watch, and could not prescribe for it. The watched stopped and sure enough Steibmann was dead.