The Argosy — page 78: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

In the Black Forest. 65 entertained a stranger (though she little knew how very far from an angel) unawares. Walde and I parted where three roads met, at the foot of a large road-side cross of which so many are seen in the Black Forest. I held before him two silver coins, one double the value of the other. He was sharp enough to choose the weightier. “If I give it you, what will you do with it?” I said. ‘Buy books for school,” he replied. Was it quite a truthful answer, Walde? Or were you, too, wise in your generation? I would rather believe the former, and so will believe it. Let us keep our faith as long as we can in this weary world. Rude awakenings, one after another, come all too soon, as surely as night follows day: bitter becomes our sweet, shattered our idols; vanished our ideals; and at last we see the Infinite Wisdom that upon this world and all it contains has stamped the motto: Tus Too SHALL Pass Away. Walde turned to the right, towards his home, I to the left, towards Baden. The lad looked after me until we were lost to each other. { went on my solitary way—somewhat happier, perhaps, for having made him happy; yet melancholy, too, at having lost sight for good and all of a singularly interesting little fellow. Walde, Walde,was that silver coin spent in school books ? GODSPEED AND WELCOME. I. Dear friend, we clasp your thin, old hand, We cannot bear to let you part: A silence falls upon the land, A silence on each listening heart, As one by one the minutes slip, Each pregnant as a passing bell. ‘‘Godspeed,”’ we say, with trembling lip; ‘‘ Believe us, we have loved you well!”’ Silence! we gaze a little space On our old comrade lying there. Let memory hold the dear dead face— We have not many friends to spare! We have to tread a path so dim, To breast so vague, so wild a height, And we have fought and wept with him! Small wonder if we weep to-night. VOL, XXXIITI. IT. But hark! across the midnight skies, With crash of bells, the child-year wakes, And hope looks forth with joyful eyes As the new dawn in glory breaks. As yet we have not seen your face, Nor what your hand may find to do, But we have known and loved your race, And for their sake we welcome you! Be with us, joyful, hopeful, brave, Child-year, that dares this winter night ; Behind us lies a new-made grave, But all our onward path grows bright. Where mists enshroud the valleys now, Spread, perfect day, across the land : We see upon the mountains’ brow The touch of an Almighty Hand! GONG OO 1a(GO)