Christian socialism -- Fiction; German Americans -- Fiction; Shoemakers -- Fiction
“Overslept myself,” said Fritz. “I say, will you take a note from me to
‘Prices’?”
To which Denis consenting, he wrote on a blank leaf of the huge
pocketbook in which he always carried the “pass” Mr. Randolph had
procured for him,—
“DEAR MR. CLARE,—I’m off for New York. Gretchen has gone on the 5 A.M.
You promised to help me, so make it all right with the Emperor and
Miss Sally, and don’t let the pastor make a row. I’ll bring her back
all right in a day or two. Blame it all on me.
“Truly yrs,
“FRITZ R.”
“P. S. I don’t want her talked about: my wife, you know.”
CHAPTER IX.
“THE ETYMOLOGY OF GRACE.”
“It is rather a confused note,” said Mr. Clare, “and I fear I can’t show
it to any one, as it was intended for my eye alone; but I gather from it
that Fritz expects to be married in New York, and to return in a day or
two.”
“The letter she left on her bureau,” said the pastor, whose eyes were
red with weeping, “said much the same, except that she spoke not of so
soon returning. I doubted it not to be Fritz with whom she had fled,
though she spoke of riches and jewels, and of taking care of her old
father. But ach! that a child of mine should so act!”
“Well, young folks will be young folks,” observed the Emperor, who sat
looking intensely amused, on the side of the table; “and I suppose they
just got tired of waiting.”
“It was that there pass to New York that was burning a hole in Fritz’s
pocketbook,” said Miss Sally sagely, “that’s what it was. Well, it’s a
foolish business altogether, and I thought better of both of them, but I
guess we’ll have to make the best of it.”
“Laugh it off,” advised Father McClosky. “Av coorse, ’twas foolish, as
ye say, Miss Sally; but maybe after all ’twas motives of economy
injeuced ‘em. Sure, New York’s a mighty aisy place to get married in,
annyway; no fuss about a license or that. The wurrust of it is, a felly
never knows whin he _ain’t_ married. I never was there but wance, and
thin I shook in me shoes till I was safe out again; but whin a man
_wants_ to be married”—he paused expressively.
The plan thus outlined being adopted, it came to pass that when Mr. and
Mrs. Fritz Rolf returned to Micklegard, as they did in the course of a
week, they were greeted with a roar of good-natured ridicule, but found
their escapade considered otherwise a matter of slight importance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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