CHAPTER VIII
PIXY IN TROUBLE
The next morning Mrs. Steiner arose earlier than usual to put in order the boys' clothes which had been damaged in the fight for Pixy. There was some mending and much cleansing to be done, but all was finished in good time, when she called them to get ready for breakfast.
"Yes, Aunt Fanny, we are coming," said Fritz, and then followed "oh's" and "ah's" and other signs of discomfort as they arose to dress, and found themselves stiff and sore from the exertion and the blows of the afternoon before.
It was a great satisfaction to Mrs. Steiner to see that the swelling which had disfigured Fritz had disappeared, and his nose was in its normal condition. The boys were so enthusiastic over their visit to the zoological garden, and so refreshed by sleep that all had a cheerful time while enjoying the substantial breakfast which their hostess had prepared.
"I loved that cute little monkey, Aunt Fanny, and was so sorry to see it treated badly by the big monkey, and then to think it was so mean as to tear up my straw hat."
"But he would not be a monkey if he were not playful," laughed Aunt Fanny; "and he did it in play. There is Uncle Braun," she continued as the doorbell rang. "He has come to take you out sight-seeing."
The three boys hurried to admit him, and came back holding him by the hand.
"I am glad you gave these boys breakfast in good time this morning," he said after greeting Mrs. Steiner, "for I wish them to see two more of the noted places of Frankfort on the Main, and when they get older they can visit Frankfort on the Oden and compare the two cities."
"You have selected good places, if you still think of taking them to those you spoke of the day you were here."
"Yes, they have seen Goethe Square, and Schiller Square. Now I wish them to see Romerberg Square and the Cathedral of St. Bartholomew. Could you not make it convenient to go with us?"
"No; for it would not do to take Pixy in any of the buildings, and he could not be left alone here. But after I attend to some matters, I will take him out for a walk."
The boys were ready to go, and they set out, their first visit being to the Cathedral.
Their way led across a part of the beautiful promenade, and the equally beautiful Ziel street, and later through the narrow streets of the middle ages, and in a short time they stood before the mighty buildings called the Kaiser Cathedral, so called because from the year 1711 the German emperors were crowned there.
The magnificence of the carved work upon the portal charmed the boys, and when they entered they were filled with admiration of the splendid stained glass windows and the grand paintings. They stood for some time gazing at the monument of the Emperor Gunther of Schwartzburg, and Uncle Braun informed them that he was the only emperor who had been buried there.
They heartily appreciated the privilege of seeing the great cathedral in the company of one who could give them reliable information, and when they left it, they walked through the narrow, ancient streets on their way to the Romerberg Square, and their guide said as they passed along, "In it stands the Romer, or Council House where the German emperors were elected and entertained.
"When crowned in the cathedral they walked to the Council House, followed by a great retinue of princes and the other great people of the earth, while the streets, doors, windows and roofs of the houses were filled with spectators.
"When the crowned emperor disappeared within the walls of the Council House, all eyes were turned in expectation to the windows of Kaiser Hall. Very soon the centre one was opened, and the Kaiser appeared in his imperial robes, the crown upon his head, in his left hand the imperial globe of the kingdom, and in his right the sceptre.
"A storm of applause greeted him, and at the same moment all the bells of the city rang in rejoicing over the crowning of a new emperor."
It was a delight to the boys after hearing this on their way there to step into this Kaiser Hall and see the portraits of the emperors looking down upon them. Uncle Braun told them of each emperor, and was glad to see that they were very well acquainted with history, and in turn could tell him something of each of them.
"It would have been easier to study history if we could have come to this Kaiser Hall first," remarked Franz. "I know a good deal of Charles the Great, but I like better to hear of Frederick Barbarossa."
"You are making a great chasm in your likings," laughed Uncle Braun; "see how many emperors come between them. Besides, I think you are mistaken in thinking it would have made history easier had you come here first. Instead, your knowledge of history has made you take interest in these portraits which you could not have taken had you not known something of them. So it is with all travelers. The more they have read of a place, the more intelligent appreciation they have of it when they see it."
The boys gazed with great interest at each portrait, and also at the white marble statue of Emperor William I, which had been placed there and unveiled in March, 1892.
"Now that we have enjoyed living in the past, let us step out upon the balcony and look at the present in the form of the beautiful Romerberg Square, its green lawn, and its fountain," suggested their guide.
It was a stirring scene upon which they gazed. People were going to and fro; and among them Franz saw two familiar figures.
"Fritz," he said, "there is Aunt Steiner and Pixy."
"So it is Aunt Fanny," cried Fritz, joyously; "Aunt Fanny, do you see us? Pixy! Pixy!"
Scarcely had the sound of the loved voice reached the dog, when he sprang forward, dragging the weak little woman, who was compelled to leap and bound over the grass at a pace which was, to say the least, unaccustomed. She called, coaxed and upbraided by turns, but Pixy never halted in his race, nor looked back to see how she was faring, but was making with all speed for the balcony. At length Mrs. Steiner could hold out no longer. She dropped the line and sank into a seat on the lawn, and Pixy, released from his burden, sprang up the steps of the Council House where he was met by a watchman.
"What are you doing in here, you black Satan?" cried the surprised man as Pixy ran in. "Out with you! Out with you!"
But Pixy had seen the open door into the balcony, had spied his master, and ran to greet him with every evidence of delight.
"Whom does that black beast belong to?" asked the watchman, hurrying out.
"To me," replied Fritz, "but—"
"How dare you bring him in here? Come out, both of you."
Uncle Braun advised Fritz to pacify the angry man by telling how it happened that Pixy got in, but the watchman would not listen, so Fritz hurried out to his much-tried relative, followed by the others.
"Oh, Aunt Fanny, dear Aunt Fanny, I am so sorry that Pixy acted so badly," he exclaimed.
"No, no; don't blame Pixy for your own fault. You should not have called him. The affectionate creature was rejoiced to hear your voice. You called him and he was glad to obey."
"Yes, it was my fault. I should have known what Pixy would do."
"Oh, no one is to blame. It was merely a mistake," said Uncle Braun, joining in the conversation; "but you are all tired, especially the aunt, and you must ride home."
He called a carriage, and before they could make objection they were helped in, with Pixy at their feet.
"Bornheimer street, number 37," said Uncle Braun to the coachman as he put a coin in his hand, and they were off.
"Oh, how nice it is to live in a great city!" remarked Franz. "In the country when any of the people wish to ride out, the horse must be brought up from the field and curried, the harness be put on, the carriage taken from the carriage-house, the whip and carriage robe gotten from their places, the horse put to the carriage, and then when the drive is over everything has to be put back in its place."
"Yes, child, all one needs in a city in order to obtain these things is money; and Uncle Braun has certainly done us a favor to-day to add to his many kindnesses. I really don't know how I could have walked home, for my knees trembled and my back ached. Never in my life did I take such long steps, and run and bound as I had to do while trying to keep back that black rascal."
"But it was not Pixy's fault. You said so yourself, Auntie!"
"Yes, I did say it. It was your fault in calling 'Pixy! Pixy!'"
The moment the dog heard his name he sprang up, put his paws on her lap, and looked into her face with such an affectionate expression in his brown eyes, that she could not help patting his head and saying, "With it all, one cannot help loving you."
The carriage stopped at number 37, and Pixy sprang to the pavement, followed closely by the boys, who helped Mrs. Steiner out carefully, and with one on each side she went slowly up the long steps.
"Certainly such help is not to be despised," she said. "You are my gallant cavaliers."
She took out her key as she spoke and unlocked the door, and was surprised to see several letters which had been pushed under it during her absence.
"They are only business circulars, I suppose," she said as the boys gathered them up and put them on the table.
She put on her glasses, took one up, broke the seal and read:
"In reference to your notice in the 'Intelligencer' that you offer a reward for the recovery of your dog, I write to say that it can be found at 395 New street. If you send ten marks between twelve and one o'clock, and a rope, you can have your dog.
"Respectfully,
"M.R."
"Now just hear that, boys! Whoever heard the like of this? If he asks two marks for catching the dog, then he asks eight marks for one day's feed. He must have fed it on pound cake and champagne."
"It would take my gold-piece to pay it, if the dog were really Pixy," remarked Fritz.
"Yes, but it is not Pixy. Let me see what this one says."
"We have your dog, and you can have it, if you will put a notice in the paper that you will put twenty-five marks in our hand for it. If you agree to this, then you can come to the Hessen statue with the money, and take your dog.
"P.P."
"Wonderful that P.P. promises to bring a dog that we already have and who is lying comfortably on his piece of carpet by the window. Now here is a stylish looking letter. Let us see who is the writer.
"Highborn gentleman (or lady).
"I see that you speak of having lost your dog. Do not imagine that it was lost; it was stolen. It is evident that you like dogs, so I write to say that I have a fine Spitz which I will sell you. His brother sold for twelve marks and I think you will be willing to give that sum. If so, bring the money to Roderberg square at four o'clock. With due respect,
"Euphrosine Sauerbier."
"Fritz! Fritz! Your dog has shown me that there is more rascality in
Frankfort than I ever imagined," exclaimed Aunt Steiner; "or, upon
second thought, I believe they are foreigners. I am sure that no
Frankforter would do such tricky things."
"Here is a postal, Aunt, that you have not seen," said Fritz.
"Read it, my boy. Of course it is from another swindler," and Fritz read:
"To No. 37 Bornheimer street:
"I have found your dog, and will bring it to you if you will tell me through the paper how much the reward is.
"H.Y.R."
"Will bring us Pixy, and Pixy sitting by looking at us! Well, well, I would never have believed it! But just see, it wants ten minutes of our dinner hour. Franz, do you and Paul wash your hands and set the table, and Fritz can help clear off when we have finished."
"But Aunt Fanny!" exclaimed the astonished Fritz, "when did you cook dinner?"
"I did not cook any, yet we will have it, and a good one, and all we have to do is to set the table, and as quickly as possible."
This was a mystery which the boys could not unravel, yet they hurried to wash and dry their hands, the cloth was spread neatly, napkins put to the places, and the dishes on, when a trim-looking girl came in carrying a long basket in which was a bucket of lentil soup, a roast of veal with vegetables and a plate of fine summer pears.
She nodded pleasantly to all, put the dinner quickly and deftly upon the table, set the basket on a chair, and with a smile and a nod went out and down the steps.
"Well, I never!" ejaculated Fritz. "How did you get this dinner cooked,
Aunt Fanny?"
"Very easily. All I had to do was to leave an order at a cook shop, and you see the result. Yes, little Fritz, as I said in regard to the carriage, in a large city one can get the comforts and luxuries of life if he has the money. Without that, many doors and also hearts have to remain closed. I ordered a dinner to-day because it is a change for me as well as for you, for it is very seldom I have a meal except as I prepare it myself. Now let us eat our dinner."
They took their seats, the blessing was asked as usual, and Mrs. Steiner carved the roast, giving generous pieces to the hungry boys.
The soup was all that could be desired, as was each dish of the prepared meal, and they sat at the table after they finished until the girl came for her basket and bucket and departed, and Fritz was helping take the dishes to the kitchen, when the door bell rang.
"Now I wonder if that is another policeman?" ejaculated Aunt Steiner, as she went to the door and opened it.
There stood a stout young man with a cigarette between his teeth, who set one of his feet within the room, so that she could not have closed the door had she tried. He was leading a black dog by a rope—which squeezed past him into the room—and he did not appear to think it necessary to remove his cap, as he said with a foreign accent: "Dog lost—I got him, yes, I brought him."
The dog was black, but much larger than Pixy, was shaggy and unkempt, and had a cross and savage look, very different from the well-kept and gentle Pixy.
"We have found our dog," replied Mrs. Steiner. "I am sorry that you went to the trouble of bringing one."
"Found your dog? Where is he?"
"Fritz, bring Pixy here," called his aunt, and Fritz came with his dog, followed by Franz and Paul.
"I have been more than half an hour coming here with this dog in answer to your advertisement, and should be paid for my trouble," said the young man, gruffly.
"It is not our fault that you came. It is not our dog. See, he is not at all like ours and he does not answer to the name of Pixy."
"See if he don't," and he jerked the dog's head up by the cord as he called "Pixy!"
"No matter if his name is Pixy, he is not our dog. Our dog is here, as you see."
The man grew angry and raised his voice, and the dogs, who had been eyeing each other with no friendly looks, snarled and sprang upon each other, and the small entry was the scene of such a fierce battle, and resounded with such shrill yelps and much thumping and bumping about that the very coats and hats on the pegs trembled. Pixy was full of fight, but the strange dog was much the larger, and scored a victory, while Pixy ran howling under the sofa in the dining-room.
Mrs. Steiner was so weak from fright that she had to hold to the open door for support; and tears were running down Fritz's cheeks. They all hoped that the man would leave, but no, he wanted money. He changed his reason for demanding it, claiming that he should have payment for the injury to his dog.
"Asking for money when your wild beast dragged our poor Pixy over the floor as if he were a bundle of old rags?" cried Mrs. Steiner in astonishment.
"Your dog commenced it! He snarled at my dog."
"He did it from fright, I think, and your dog bit him and tore out some of his silky, black hair, and Pixy is now lying under the sofa, his teeth chattering from fear."
"What do I care where he is! If my Turk mastered him, that is not saying that my dog is not hurt."
"So your dog is not named Pixy but Turk," commented Mrs. Steiner.
The man took no notice of this; his object was money and he resolved to get it.
"I should have a dollar at least for my trouble," he said.
"I wish a policeman would happen along. There are not enough of them in Frankfort," remarked Mrs. Steiner. "Look out of the windows, boys, and if you see one beckon to him to come. I would give a dollar this minute to see one."
"Why should you give a dollar to a policeman? Give the dollar to me, and
I will go and take my dog."
"Not a penny, Aunt Fanny!" called Paul. "He would better leave now, and quickly, or he will see what he will get."
It would have been hard for Paul to have told what the man would get, but his determined manner had its effect and the man ran down the steps, instantly followed by Turk.
Mrs. Steiner sank upon the sofa, pale and nervous; Fritz sat by her shedding tears of regret that he had brought his dog to Frankfort; and Pixy crept out from his covert and tried to comfort them.
"I feel nervous and exhausted over the dog fight, and the rudeness of that man," said Mrs. Steiner, "and will lie down upon the sofa and rest awhile. Franz, you and Paul can take the dishes and other things to the kitchen and Fritz can put water on the gas stove to heat."
"Oh, Aunt Fanny, let us wash the dishes," said Paul.
"Certainly you may," and in great glee the two boys did the work nicely, while Fritz fed Pixy and gave him fresh water.
"Now I feel rested," said Mrs. Steiner, rising, "and you boys have been such a help that I have time to go out on business in the city. Who will go with me?"
"I will go!" said Franz, "and I!" exclaimed Paul.
"Aunt Fanny, if you will excuse me, I will stay at home and write a letter. Besides, I can rest," said Fritz.
"Certainly I will excuse you, dear child; and if you get tired of staying alone and wish to take a walk, leave the key on the first floor with the Steerers," and the three went cheerily down the steps and Fritz was alone with his black friend.
"Pixy," he said as he commenced to write, "whom do you suppose my letter is to? It is to Aunt Fanny for we are going home, Pixy; yes, going home. We will surprise them. I will tell you how we will do, Pixy. When we are near our house I will take off your cord, and you can run in the open door of the store and see papa. Then you can run in the open door of the house and see mamma and sister. Mamma will say, 'Why, here's Pixy! Fritz cannot be far away.'"
This plan seemed to suit Pixy admirably, and Fritz continued with his letter. When it was finished he folded and addressed it to "Dear Aunt Fanny," and laid it upon the table. He hurried into the bedroom, put such things in his knapsack as he would need before Paul and Franz came home, strapped it over his shoulder, put his rain-coat over his left arm, took the end of Pixy's cord in his right, and descended the steps after carefully locking the door, and putting the key into the hands of the Steerer servant, he set out for home.
CHAPTER IX
THEY VISIT THE CLOTHING HOUSE
When Mrs. Steiner and the boys returned they found the door locked.
"Run down, Franz, and get the key. I told Fritz to leave it there if he went out for a walk and the boy took my advice."
Franz soon returned, the door was opened and they entered, Mrs. Steiner sinking down upon the sofa with the sigh, "Oh, those steps, those steps!"
"Aunt Fanny, here is a letter upon the table. It is for you, and written by Fritz," said Paul.
"By Fritz!" laughed Aunt Fanny, "gone out for a walk and left a letter for me! Read it, Paul."
The boy opened the missive and read, each sentence meeting with comments from his interested listeners.
"Dear Aunt Fanny: Pixy was not to blame for the dog fight; and the time he ran into the Council House he was not to blame, because I called 'Pixy! Pixy!' I should have kept my mouth shut."
"The dear Fritz! He is right, but I am sorry he takes it so much to heart."
"You know, Aunt Fanny, that Pixy is but a dog, and has not a man's understanding."
"Yes, Fritz, I remember that much of my studies in natural history," laughed his aunt.
"I have not as much understanding as a man, either, or I would not have brought Pixy to Frankfort."
"The boy is certainly right there."
"I am sorry that you stood and held him while we were in the buildings and you had to run and jump when I called 'Pixy!' If he had not come he would have been disobedient or stupid; and my father will tell you that he is neither disobedient nor stupid. You will not have to hold his cord again."
"Now what does he mean by saying I will not have to stand and hold his cord again?"
"We are now on our way home," continued Paul, "and papa will be glad to see me and Pixy."
"For heaven's sake! Has the boy run off?"
"Yes, he must mean that," replied Paul.
"Oh, he is only joking. Run to your room, Franz, and see if he has taken his knapsack."
"Yes, and his rain-coat is gone. Shall we finish reading the letter?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Steiner with tears in her eyes.
"Dear Aunt Fanny, I thank you for your goodness, and for the mark you gave me; and want to say that I will never again bring a dog to visit Frankfort."
"Oh, that boy has made my heart heavy! I feel as if I will never see him again and it is all Pixy's fault. Is that all?"
"Yes, and oh, Aunt Fanny, I wish we had not been so harsh with Fritz in regard to Pixy," said Paul.
"Now you are trying to make me more unhappy than I am when I am enough distressed that the boy has run away without bidding us good-bye."
"No, but we are to blame. We were as glad as was Fritz that Pixy was with us on the way to Frankfort; then when he became a trouble we blamed Fritz. I wish we could do something now. Perhaps the train has not left for the Odenwald, and if we go to the depot he may be there, and we can bring him and Pixy back."
"Oh, you dear boy, to think of this! Yes, go quickly. But hark! I hear a step on the porch. He is at the hall door. Yes, thank heaven, the boy has come back of his own free will!" And she ran and opened the door.
"Fritz! Fritz!" she called as she saw the tall form of her brother, and, clasping his hand, she led him to the sitting-room. "Did you see Fritz at the station?"
"No, is he not here?"
"He left for home without bidding us good-bye, and it is all on account of the dog. The boys were just going to the depot to see if he is there."
"It is no use to go. If he had been there, I would have seen him, and
Pixy would have found me."
"What are we to do about it?"
"Do nothing. It will be an experience for him to be allowed to follow his own inclination in the matter. He will be surprised when he reaches home to know that I am here. I am on my way to Cassel on business and stopped off to see you and my boy."
"But I feel so anxious about him," said his sister. "I would ask the police to see to it but am ashamed, for I had to apply to them when his purse was lost, then when his dog was lost and now it would be to tell them that both dog and boy are gone. Uncle Braun put a notice in the paper about the dog, and oh dear! there seems to be no end to what that notice brought;" and she told of the letters and the dog fight.
"I am sorry you bothered about it for there is no need. He can take care of himself. He is eleven years old, has money in his purse, and is afraid of nothing, so what is the need of worrying? Yet it may be that he has not left Frankfort, and if it will be a comfort to you we will try to find the young rascal. There are two railways which he could take to go home, so you and the two boys can go to the Eastern station, and I will go to the other, which will leave us plenty of time to see both departures for the Odenwald and one of us will catch him if he is there to be caught. Have you a schedule?"
"No, I have no need of one from one year's end to another. But suppose he refuses to come back with us?"
"No danger of that when he hears that I am here. He will not think that he can get back quickly enough."
Mrs. Steiner locked the hall door and they hurried away, taking the shortest way to the two depots. It was not likely that one spy at the one and the three at the other would miss seeing the runaway, especially as he would be accompanied by his four-footed traveling companion, and would perhaps be the only boy in the crowd with a dog.
"Fritz will have to travel in a freight car," remarked Paul as the three neared the depot; "the guard will not allow Pixy in a passenger car, and Fritz will not let his dog go in there alone."
"Oh, Paul, you should have mentioned this before! Brother Fritz will never think of it, and the boy will be stowed in a freight car without his father finding him, and we here, not knowing whether or not he is in Frankfort."
"Mr. Heil will think of it, I am sure," said Franz, "for Fritz wrote a letter home on Thursday, and in it he told them about Pixy and the chickens."
"We can only hope so," sighed Mrs. Steiner, "and when we reach the depot, you, Paul, can watch the freight cars, Franz can watch the passenger cars, and I will go first into the waiting-rooms to see if he is there. Then we can all watch the crowd upon the platform and see if Fritz is among them."
This program was followed, but Fritz and his dog were not to be seen, and they could only hope that Mr. Heil would be more successful.
"But I will not see him until we get home," said Mrs. Steiner, "so will send a telegram to Fritz's mother, telling her that the boy set out for home about noon, and when he arrives there, she would please send me a telegram to that effect, as I am extremely anxious about him."
No sooner thought of than done. She hurried into the office, gave her message to the operator who made quite a reduction in the number of words, thus lessening the expense, and then the three would have set out for home had not Paul made a study of the schedule and found that the train which Mr. Heil had gone to watch would not leave for fifteen minutes.
"Oh, I am glad of that!" exclaimed Mrs. Steiner. "We can board an electric car and get there in time to tell Brother Fritz about the freight car, and you boys can help watch for the boy."
The car came, and they lost no time in boarding it, and Paul and Franz enjoyed the swift run through the streets.
But Mrs. Steiner was far from enjoying it. The car had to halt at so many corners that she dreaded that the train would leave for the Odenwald before they reached the depot, and she would have to return home without knowing the whereabouts of her nephew.
"Oh, there is Mr. Heil on that car that has whirled past us," exclaimed Franz. "He saw us and signaled us not to go to the depot, but to go home."
"Now isn't that too provoking! Let us get out," and she sprang up, and would have hurried to the platform had not the guard caught her arm.
"Do you wish to fall off and be killed, or have your limbs broken?" he asked. "Wait until we stop at the next corner—so; now you can step off, and in safety."
The three quickly took his advice, and waited on the curb until a car came that was going in an opposite direction, and hurried aboard.
"I wish to get home as quickly as possible," said Mrs. Steiner, "for Brother Fritz will have to stand outside until we come with the key. I am afraid this has hindered him from leaving for Cassel. And oh, boys, we are on the wrong car! See, it is turning in another direction. We will have to get off and wait for a car to take us back."
She gave the signal, they stepped off, and again waited on the curb,
Mrs. Steiner feverish with impatience.
"I am completely bewildered or I should not have made that mistake," she explained. "That boy's rash act of running away has upset me so that I cannot think. There was not the least excuse for it. Surely he could have waited until Monday, when all three would go, your time of holiday being over. It is all the fault of that miserable Pixy."
After some delay they returned home and found Mr. Heil waiting for them.
"I am sorry you took the trouble to go to the other depot, sister," he said kindly. "You knew that I would wait there until the train left for the Odenwald."
"But did you see Fritz?" she asked anxiously.
"No, and no boy of about his age had bought a ticket for the Odenwald, so he is yet here in Frankfort."
"Oh, where is the poor boy?" exclaimed Mrs. Steiner, tearfully. "I cannot forgive myself for finding fault with his dog. You must not go to Cassel, Fritz, until we know where he is."
"No, there is nothing to prevent my waiting for the evening train. I have written to my wife's brother that I would pass Sunday with them, but there was no time set to reach there."
In the meantime where were Fritz and Pixy?
Fritz had set out for home in splendid spirits. It seemed to him that he had been away for months, and wondered if there had been many changes during his absence. He hurried along, for he wished to stop on his way to the depot and get a present for his little sister.
He knew that she wished a canary-bird, and went into a store to see how much one would cost. To his surprise and delight, he found that he could buy a singer and a cage for two marks, and he purchased both.
"Is there no one else that you would take a present to?" asked the shop-keeper.
"Yes, I would like to take a present to my baby brother, and something to my mother."
"What would you like?"
"A tin trumpet to my brother, but I don't know what my mother would like."
"There is a nice trumpet, and here is a tin grater. I think she would like it."
"Yes, and I will take it, if it and the trumpet do not cost too much. I must have enough money left for my journey home."
It was found by counting that he would have enough without disturbing his beloved gold-piece, and the shop-keeper strapped the three articles on his back, drawing the grater around to his side, and the happy Fritz set out for the depot, when a street urchin slipped up behind him and blew a shrill blast upon the trumpet. Fritz turned quickly and at that moment he heard a call, "Pixy! Pixy!" and the dog turned joyously and looked back at a tall policeman who laid his hand upon the shoulder of Fritz.
"How did you come by this dog?" he enquired, sternly.
"It belonged to my father and he gave it to me. He has no tag or muzzle because I am only visiting in Frankfort."
"I am not asking about muzzle or tag, but wish to know if the dog's name is Pixy."
"Yes, his name is Pixy."
"Now listen. A black dog of that name was stolen yesterday; and the lady from whom it was stolen not only put the case in the hands of the police, but put an advertisement in the paper, giving an exact description of the dog."
"Yes, this is the dog," assured Fritz. "He first ran away, then was stolen by a man."
"And the man gave him to you to take away. Is that it?"
"No. Franz and Paul and I had a hard fight to get him; and I am taking him to the depot to go to Odenwald."
"What is you name?"
"Fritz Heil."
"And that of your father?"
"His name is also Fritz."
"So you say that the dog belongs to Fritz Heil, yet it was the Widow Steiner who put the case in the hands of the police. How does that story agree with yours?"
Fritz was so bewildered and frightened that he stammered over his explanation. "Yes—no. It did run away—Yes, it was stolen; I was there, but I am going away."
"You were where?"
"At my Aunt Steiner's."
"Does she know that you are going away?"
"No, I did not tell her. Yes, I did in my letter."
"That is a beautiful story! Now I know that you are taking her dog away without her knowledge."
"No; she knows it," howled Fritz.
"Yes, but all the world knows how cunning dog thieves are in Frankfort. You come with me that we may learn the straight story of how you got this dog."
"Oh, Mr. Policeman, do not take me to prison! I would die there."
"No, not to prison, but to the Widow Steiner's. There we will hear a full account of Pixy."
"But I do not want to go there, because I have just run off from her house and it shames me to go back."
"I believe that, but you need not be ashamed if you are telling the truth."
"But, Mr. Policeman, I am only taking my own dog to my own home."
"Perhaps so. We will see what Mrs. Steiner says about it," and the tall policeman set out for 37 Bornheimer street, followed by the weeping Fritz, and a motley crowd of onlookers.
"He has been stealing tinware," commented one of them. "While he was about it he might as well have taken silver or something worth while."
"Poor boy, he has not been trained right by his parents," remarked a woman standing in the door of her bakery. "People who take no care of their children but let them run the streets must expect arrests."
This remark was so trying to Fritz that he halted to set the woman right in regard to his parents, but the policeman bade him hurry along, and they soon reached 37, where the returned ones were still upon the porch. Mrs. Steiner was weeping, and Mr. Heil and the boys were anxious, believing that Fritz had lost his way in going to the depot and was wandering about the streets.
"Look, brother!" exclaimed Mrs. Steiner, eagerly; "look at that crowd coming up the street following a policeman. Among them is a black dog. Yes, it is Fritz and Pixy, and with them a policeman! What can be the matter now?"
Fritz had one arm over his eyes, trying to hide his tears but looked out when his captor told him that they had reached his aunt's home and there were people on the porch.
"Oh, it is father! dear, dear father!" exclaimed Fritz in delight, and running up the steps he was clasped in the arms of his relieved parent.
But the boy's joy was no greater than that of the dog, for Pixy danced and pranced about his master, jumped upon him and tried to lick his face and hands.
"It is of no use for me to ask to whom the dog belongs," remarked the policeman as he reached the group upon the porch. "The dog tells me that the boy has told the exact truth."
"See, Mr. Policeman, the dog does belong to papa and me, and not to Aunt
Steiner," exclaimed Fritz, jubilantly.
"Yes; and is this lady the Widow Steiner?"
"Yes," she replied, stepping forward.
"You gave a false statement in the paper, and to the police," he said in an injured tone. "You said you had lost your dog."
"It was a misleading statement, that is true," she replied, "but many people know me who do not know Fritz. The dog ran away from my house while under my care, and my wish was to state correctly in a few words where the dog could be returned if found. It was a friend who advertised."
"It would have taken but a few words more to have said that your nephew, Fritz Heil, had lost his dog, then when the boy told me his name and where he had been staying, I would not have arrested him, knowing that he was telling the exact truth."
"Yes, you are quite right, and I am sorry that my mistake has given you trouble, and I thank you heartily. It has all turned out right. Had you not arrested him, he would have been on his way home, and his father here to see him."
"All right. I have nothing to say, except to tell you that when you call upon the police to help you, you will state the case correctly."
"I, too, thank you heartily," added Mr. Heil. "You have done us a good service."
The policeman gave the military salute and passed down the steps and
Aunt Steiner and the others went inside.
"Now tell me, Fritz, what was your reason for starting for Odenwald with such a motley array of things upon your back? You looked like a traveling tinker," enquired his father.
"They were presents for mother, and sister and baby brother, and the shop-keeper said I could carry them better if strapped upon my back, and he strapped them which I thought was very kind. I got the canary bird so very cheap that I could not bear to go home without it."
"No wonder it was cheap! It is not a singer, the man cheated you."
Fritz looked so sad over this information that his aunt tried to think of something to cheer him.
"Do you know, brother, that Fritz can make excellent coffee and all three boys are learning to cook?" she said.
"No, indeed! I never imagined such a thing," he replied, looking as surprised and pleased as the boys could possibly desire.
"Yes; they can cook, and as it is nearly time for our afternoon meal, we will give you a sample of how they can help me."
"Set them at it as early as convenient, sister, and when finished I can pass an hour or more with you at the forest park before starting to Cassel, if you care to go."
"That will be charming. Fritz, you may go now and grind the coffee, and put in a tablespoonful more, now that we are having a guest to share it with us. Franz, you will please peel and chop the cold boiled potatoes, and brown them nicely and cut thin slices from the cold boiled ham, and put them upon the pink plate. Paul will please set the table, and then go to the bakery and get a seed cake in honor of the returned prodigal."
The boys set to work and the odor of the mocha coffee as it was being ground floated into the sitting-room.
"You always have fine coffee, sister," remarked Mr. Heil.
"Yes, it is good, and the reason is that it is genuine coffee, no chicory or other mixture. Yet I have seen passable coffee made of poor material by an adept. Our dear old grandmother was compelled in war-times to make it from chicory, but would use no deception, so when she invited friends to take supper she would not say, 'Come to afternoon coffee,' but 'Come to chicory.'"
Paul in the meantime had set the table neatly, and had returned from the bakery with a fine large seed cake, Mrs. Steiner having given him two marks to pay for it.
The potatoes, ham, good brown and white bread, butter and lettuce was now upon the table, Fritz brought the coffee, and all took seats at the hospitable board.
Mr. Heil at his sister's request asked the blessing, then with pleasant chat the meal progressed, the guest assuring the boys that he did not know that he had ever enjoyed one more.
"If it would not tire you too much, sister, I would prefer that we walk to the Forest-house, as I would like to call on the way at the Stayman cloth house and leave an order for cloth and ready-made clothing."
"I prefer walking this lovely evening."
"And oh, papa, we are glad to go there, for we know Mr. Stayman! We spent part of the time with him watching the fireworks," exclaimed Fritz. "Do you know, papa, that he is a tailor?"
"Yes, and I hope that you will have as good knowledge of how the work should be done as has Mr. Stayman when old enough to go in business."
"But I would rather be a merchant."
"He is a merchant and a successful one; and his success lies in the fact that he understands thoroughly how the work of making the clothing should be done."
"He invited us to come to his store and I am glad you will take us. Will we see him on his work-table with a needle in his hand?"
"I am not sure; but if so, we should have double respect for him, for it would prove that he is not above his business. You appear to have the foolish opinion that it is the kind of work that demeans or elevates a man. I know of but two classes of men, the worker and the drone. The king who rules wisely and the tailor who does honest work are pleasing to God in the position in which he has placed them. But the man who thinks the world owes him a living and will not work but begs from door to door is like a parasite that lives upon the fruit tree."
As soon as the meal was finished the boys helped Mrs. Steiner put the place in order, and they set out for the Forest-house, Mr. Heil leading the way with his sister, the boys following, and Pixy enjoying the freedom of running along without the restriction of his cord, but always keeping near his master. They halted at the house of Uncle Braun and invited him to meet them at the Forest-house which he gladly accepted; then they passed on and soon stood before the palatial clothing house of the Staymans and to the surprise of the boys it was the very one which Franz and Paul had visited and near which Fritz was robbed. They were met by a young man, dressed in the latest-style business-suit, who welcomed them courteously and asked how he could serve them.
"Please tell Mr. Stayman that Frederick Heil of the Odenwald wishes to leave an order with his firm," said Mr. Heil.
Mr. Stayman appeared immediately, and welcomed them all cordially.
"Come to my office," he said, "and I will give you comfortable seats; we can converse there without interruption." They followed him, passing through a small room lined with mirrors from floor to ceiling, and while Mr. Heil gave his order, one of the young clerks took Mrs. Steiner and the boys over the building.
"Where are the workrooms?" asked Fritz.
"They are in a large building back of this one. Here we have only suits, and cloth in the piece."
CHAPTER X
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."