considerable War-Whoop against all non-
declaimers; and if they could only be
prevailed upon to sum up eloquently the many
unspeakable miseries and horrors of War, and
to present them to their own country as a
conclusive reason for its being undefended
against War, and becoming the prey of the
first despot who might choose to inflict those
miseries and horrors upon it,—why then I
really believe we should have got to the very
best joke we could hope to have in our whole
Complete Jest-Book for Posterity, and might
fold our arms and rest convinced that we had
done enough for that discerning patriarch's
amusement.

BERTHALDE REIMER'S VOICE.

"THAT 'll do, wife,—that 'll do; it's not a
very cold night," Karl Reimer said with a
sigh; and his wife, looking a little sadly
for a moment in his face, replaced the fresh
log of wood with which she had meant to
replenish the half-burnt embers on the hearth.
Returning to her chair she sat down in silence
by her husband's side.

"Your work has not made you hungry
tonight, Karl," she said, presently, with an
effort at cheerfulness in her voice, and she
glanced at a little table standing near, on
which a very homely supper of brown German
bread and sour milk in a thick curd lay
scarcely tasted.

"Hungry enough, wife, " was the quiet
answer.

There was a pause. The woman, stooping
forward, laid her hand upon his shoulder,
and said gently:

"We must keep a, good heart, husband.
While we have good wholesome food, and a
roof to cover us, we have no right to
complain; many a one is worse off than we
to-night!"

"Ay, to-night,—it is not to-night I'm thinking
of," Karl muttered, and suddenly rousing
himself he stretched out and cautiously
bent and unbent his left arm, clenching his
hand the while, like one trying its strength;
then shaking his head with a deep sigh, he let
it fall again by his side, and resumed his
former attitude.

"It is rest that you want," his wife said
soothingly. " You have been working too
hard these two or three months."

"No," he answered despondingly, "no rest
would bring back strength to this arm. It is
not overwork that has brought on the weakness.
Wife, look here," and a sickly smile
came over his lips, as, clenching his hand
again, he turned it to her. "Look—a child
might open it. Try you" (her tirst effort
unclasped his fingers). "I thought so," he
said bitterly. And again .they both were
silent. There were tears in Madame Reimer's
eyes, and she held the weakened hand closely
in hers.

"It might have been the right hand. Be
thankful, Karl," she said softly, in a little
while.

"I am thankful, but if it get worse, if it
become useless, I should have to give up
| work; what's to become of us all?—what's
to become, all through her life, of that poor
child?"

"Hush! " Madame Reimer whispered
softly, and shading her face from the light,
she turned her eyes to a corner of the
room where, in a little low bed, a girl lay
asleep.

"She has been asleep an hour or more,"
Karl answered quickly. " If it were not for
her, we could bear up bravely enough. We have
worked hard, both of us, these seven years
past—seven!—ay, it is more than seven
since the lightning blinded her—near eight
years now—we have worked hard to try and
save up for her, and what will she ever be
the better for it? There's not a week passes
but we have to draw upon our little stock;
for, of all we have worked and saved there
are not twenty gülden left. She will be a
beggar, our child—our Berthalde!"

"Hush, hush, Karl, it will not come to
that—we can work for her yet—it is all in
God's hands."

There was a few minutes' pause. Then Karl
spoke again, in a passionate, though subdued
voice:—

"She may be a beggar next month, for
aught we know. When I can't work any
longer, what is there for the whole of us but
beggary? " A momentary flush spread over
his brow; but, as it passed away he proudly
raised his head, and, shaking back his thick
hair, crept on tiptoe to the bed, and knelt
down on the floor beside it. " As he bent
over the sleeping child, a look of deep, pitying,
and tender love softened his rugged
features. Softly and tenderly he pressed his
rough hard hand over the child's uncovered
head; drew aside a curl of her long hair
that hid her face; and, stooping down,
pressed his lips in a long silent kiss upon
her pale thin cheek. She lay quite still,
with her sightless eyes closed, breathing low
and quickly.

"How pale she is," Madame Reimer
whispered; for she had followed her husband,
and stood now with her hands leaning on his
arm, and her eyes fixed upon her child.

The little face was as still and white as if it
had been carved in marble. For an instant
Karl glanced upwards to his wife, and a look
of sudden alarm and pain passed over him—a
quick look, which seemed to flash for a
moment from his dark piercing eyes: then, as it
died away, he turned round to the little bed
again, and laid his head beside his child's
upon the pillow, not speaking anything aloud,
though his lips moved.

"" May the holy Virgin bless her! " Madame
Reimer whispered in the silence.

"Amen! " Karl breathed, in his deep, low
voice; and with one other kiss he rose from