"KATRINA"

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2152, 24 April 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

"KATRINA"

One evening, in the far-off Fatherland, M she leaned over the gate and waited for the coming of the red-cheeked and flaxen-haired Fritz, shyly whisptrjyl t» herself : " In a little time we shall be married. My mother will live with as, and Frits will whistle and I will ting all day long in our happiness. Ah ! Fritz ! So jolly ! So honest ! So truthful ! Was «v«r another boy like him ?'" Her heart beat faster as she heard th« echo of his wooden shoes on the hard path, and she threw open the gate and ran half way wown to meet him. 41 What! Fritz ill?" " No," "In trouble?" •• No." ' ' But something has happened ?" lie led her to the bench under the old pear tree, and with his arm about her he exclaimed that he was going away across the ocean— to America. He could make a little money in Germany— h» could make a (fortune in America. Th« idea of separation grieved him more than he conld tell, but it would not b« for long. In a couple of years— in three »t m6st*i-he would come back to claim bit bride, and so he talked and argued and pleaded, and with her heart almost choking her, and her eyes so full of tears that she could not see his face in the moonlight Katrina whispered ; "You shall go, and I shall wait for you. I shall wait for two — thret —five— forever. I believe in you as in my God." In a week Fritz was on his way, and if Kurtrina's blue eyes were never clear of tears his heart was never free from pain. By-and-bye a letter came from him— then another and another ; and for a year Katrina was happy. He had found work and was doing well. He loved her with all his soul— he would work and save and return to her. And the days made weeks and the weeks made months of the second year. The letters 'did not come so often, and there w»9 something in their tenour which provoked anxiety. " Ah ! but he is so busy, and perhaps he was very tired," Katrina's old mother would say. " Fritz is faithful and true — be patient." When the weeks were running into months of the third year Katrina was an orphan. Letters from Fritz now com* only at such long intervals that her soul was sick with the waiting and hoping. Ho still claimed to love her, and he still hoped to return for her, but he had been ill, was out of work— had met with a lots — always something to put the time farther away. " Why not ?" she suddenly asked herself oue evening m she sat under the same pear tree. "It is a hard task poor Fritz has taken upon himself. I will lighten his labours. He cannot come to me, I will go to him Let the world talk. We love each other— we are to be man aud wife." A month later Katrina was walking the streets of the city in which her Frits was living. She did not know his abid* ing place, but she would walk and walk — she would enquire of every kind-faced man— she would whisper her errand to every woman, and she would find Fritz. He would be so glad— and they would be so happy, and the thought of it brought inch smiles to her face that men turned to look and wonder. One — two — three days of weary and fruitless search, but she was not discouraged. On the fourth day as she wandered up and down, her heart suddenly stood still. Ont from a side street came her Fritz. Yes, she would know him amonp ten thousand. The same red cheeks — the same flaxen-hair — the same smile of good nature. " Fritz— oh ! Fritz. It is I— it is yonr Katrina ?" Joy must have blinded her for the moment, for she did not see that he had company — that a woman walked beside him and looked up into his face as only a wife can look. Katriua stood before them. She looked from one to the other, and her woman's instinct told her the truth. Fritz had played her false. He was married. Whitefaced — trembling — heart-broken, she looked into his eyes. He was pale, but firm. 14 Fritz ! Oh, Fritz !" she gasped. 11 1 do not know you "he replied, " And thin i-> my Fritz — my lover — my pledged husband !" •' Woman move out of our path }" She obeyed. Straight before her wa« the river. Crushed and dazed and walking as one in her sleep, she walked on and down to the whiirf. The swift dark wntern were at her feet. She turned and looked back to the spot where she had encountered her faithless lover. " Poor Fritz— perhaps it was best !" she murmured. Next moment the fierce tide was bearing her body away, and the heart which h.id kept faith no lonjr and trusted to well was stilled in death.— Detroit Free Pre-s.