The End of the World | Page 9

uncertain how deeply she might be offended, since she had never once
let her eyes rest on him at dinner. And when she had come to the edge
of the mow and stopped there in a reverie, August had been utterly
spell-bound.
A minute she blushed. Then, perceiving her opportunity, she dropped
herself to the floor and walked up to August.
"August, you are to be turned off to-morrow night."

"What have I done? Anything wrong?"
"No."
"Why do they send me away?"
"Because--because--" Julia stopped.
But silence is often better than speech. A sudden intelligence came into
the blue eyes of August. "They turn me off because I love Jule
Anderson."
[Illustration: A LITTLE RUSTLE BROUGHT HER TO
CONSCIOUSNESS.]
Julia blushed just a little.
"I will love her all the same when I am gone. I will always love her."
Julia did not know what to say to this passionate speech, so she
contented herself with looking a little grateful and very foolish.
"But I am only a poor boy, and a Dutchman at that"--he said this
bitterly--"but if you will wait, Jule, I will show them I am of some
account. Not good enough for you, but good enough for them. You
will--"
"I will wait--_forever_--for you, Gus." Her head was down, and her
voice could hardly be heard. "Good-by." She stretched out her hand,
and he took it trembling.
"Wait a minute." He dropped the hand, and taking a pencil wrote on a
beam:
"March 18th, 1843."
"There, that's to remember the Dutchman by."
"Don't call yourself a Dutchman, August. One day in school, when I

was sitting opposite to you, I learned this definition, 'August: grand,
magnificent,' and I looked at you and said, Yes, that he is. August is
grand and magnificent, and that's what you are. You're just grand!"
I do not think he was to blame. I am sure he was not responsible. It was
done so quickly. He kissed her forehead and then her lips, and said
good-by and was gone. And she, with her apron full of eggs and her
cheeks very red--it makes one warm to climb--went back to the house,
resolved in some way to thank Cynthy Ann for sending her; but Cynthy
Ann's face was so serious and austere in its look that Julia concluded
she must have been mistaken, Cynthy Ann couldn't have known that
August was in the barn. For all she said was:
"You got a right smart lot of eggs, didn't you? The hens is beginnin' to
lay more peart since the warm spell sot in."
CHAPTER IV.
A COUNTER-IRRITANT.
"Vot you kits doornt off vor? Hey?"
Gottlieb Wehle always spoke English, or what he called English, when
he was angry.
"Vot for? Hey?"
All the way home from Anderson's on that Saturday night, August had
been, in imagination, listening to the rough voice of his honest father
asking this question, and he had been trying to find a satisfactory
answer to it. He might say that Mr. Anderson did not want to keep a
hand any longer. But that would not be true. And a young man with
August's clear blue eyes was not likely to lie.
"Vot vor ton't you not shpeak? Can't you virshta blain Eenglish ven you
hears it? Hey? You a'n't no teef vot shteels I shposes, unt you ton't kit
no troonks mit vishky? Vot you too tat you pe shamt of? Pin lazin'
rount? Kon you nicht Eenglish shprachen? Oot mit id do vonst!"

"I did not do anything to be ashamed of," said August. And yet he
looked ashamed.
"You tidn't pe no shamt, hey? You tidn't! Vot vor you loogs so leig a
teef in der bentenshry? Vot for you sprachen not mit me ven ich
sprachs der blainest zort ov Eenglish mit you? You kooms sneaggin
heim Zaturtay nocht leig a tog vots kot kigt, unt's got his dail dween his
leks; and ven I aks you in blain Eenglish vot's der madder, you loogs
zheepish leig, und says you a'n't tun nodin. I zay you tun sompin. If you
a'n't tun nodin den, vy don't you dell me vot it is dat you has tun?
Hey?"
[Illustration: GOTTLIEB.]
All this time August found that it was getting harder and harder to tell
his father the real state of the case. But the old man, seeing that he
prevailed nothing, took a cajoling tone.
"Koom, August, mine knabe, ton't shtand dare leig a vool. Vot tit
Anterson zay ven he shent you avay?"
"He said that I'd been seen a-talking to his daughter, Jule Anderson."
"Vell, you nebber said no hoorm doo Shule, tid you? If I dought you
said vot you zhoodn't zay doo Shule, I vood shust drash you on der
shpot! Tid you gwarl