Jennie Gerhardt

nt back to talk with his wife, and then to his post of duty. What was to be done? He could think of only one friend who was able, or pos

hought advisable that the others should stay away. Mrs. Gerhardt

prisoners ahead of him. Finally his name was called, and the boy was pushed forward to the bar.

sely; he was unfavourably impressed by

t have you to say for yourself?

at the judge, b

e tried to break away from me, and when I held him he assaulted me. This man

?" asked the Court, observin

, glad of an opportunit

leaning forward, "he is my boy.

rd," interrupted the detective, "but he was th

coal cars?" asked the Court; but before either father or

er," said

?" he questioned, a

at Miller's fur

ll, this young man might be let off on the coal-stealing charge, but he seems to be somewhat

rdt, but the court officer w

ut it," said the judge. "He's stub

lad it was no worse. Somehow, he thought, he could raise the

othingly. "He didn't give me h

," said Gerhardt nervously. "

ed, for ten dollars seemed something that might be had. Jennie heard the whole story with open mouth and wide eyes. It w

fice. There were several grocers and coal merchants whom he knew well enough, but he owed them money. Pastor Wundt might let him have it, but the agony such a disclosure to that worthy would e

," he said despairingly.

he could brave her father's opposition and his terrible insult to the Senator, so keenly remembered,

tently and monotonously turned one hand over in the other and stared at the floor. Gerhardt ran his hand

; "get the others to go. There's no use their sit

return. Still he might be in the city. She stood before a short, narrow mirror that surmounted a shabby bureau, thinking. Her sister Veronica, with whom she slept, was already composing herself to dreams. Finally a grim resolution

egularly, she put on her hat and jacket, and noiselessly opened

ight save that of her own small room-lamp and a gleam from under the kitchen door. She turned and bl

the arc light had not yet been invented - she had a sinking sense of fear; what was this rash thing she was about to do? How would the Senator receive her?

t any hour of the night. The hotel, not unlike many others of the time, was in no sense loosely conducted, but its method of supervision in places was lax. Any per

d up the steps, nervous and pale, but giving no other outward sign of the storm that was surging within her. When she came to his familiar door she paused; she feared that she might not f

nds. "Why, Jennie!" he exclaimed. "How delight

her with an

as thinking all along how I could straighten this ma

r distressed face. The fresh beauty of her

eat surge of

self to say. "My brother is in jail. We need ten dolla

ould you go? Haven't I told you always to come to me? Don't

she g

ut won't fate ever cease striking at you, poor

wing coal down from t

e was this girl pleading with him at night, in his room, for what to her was a great necessity - ten dollars; to him, a mere nothing. "I will ar

hair beside a large lamp,

ve minutes' task to write a note to the judge asking him to revoke the fine, for the sake of the boy's character, and send it by a messeng

If the fine is revoked you can

o personally supervise the task, and Bass, a very much aston

u're at liberty. Run along home and don't let

st how this delicate situation should be handled. Obviously Jennie had not told her fathe

as made difficult by the senseless opposition of her father. The opinion of the world brought up still another complication. Supposing he should take her openly, what would the world say? She was a significant type emotionally, that he knew. There was something there - artistically, temperamentally, which was

ered he was struck anew with her beauty, and with the irresistible appeal of her pers

to appear calm, "I have looked

ro

nd stretching her arms out toward him. Th

ke don't cry," he entreated. "You angel! You sister of mercy!

and of fulfilment in his mood. At last, in spite of other losses, fate had brought him what he most

over the green wheat; from the perfume of the growing grasses waving over heavy-laden clover and laughing veronica, hiding the green-finches, baffling the bee; from rose-lined hedge, woodbine, and cornflower, azure blue, where yellowin

icle unwritten and past all power of writing; who shall preserve a record of the petals that fell from the roses a century ago? The swallows to the house-tops three hundred times -

of the music, of the ruddy mornings and evenings of the world has ever touched your heart; if all beauty were passing, a