Page:Poet Lore, volume 34, 1923.djvu/523

 happening right now. This is the seventeenth of August, remember. We are invited to the annual celebration at the armory and later to a colonel’s reception. The retreat is at seven, it is now four, it takes an hour to drive to Sopote, and here you are not even shaved.

Burris (Dazed).—Is this the seventeenth?

Erna.—Surely. When you get into active service you shall have to keep a reminder of these days before your eyes all the while. Otherwise the Regiments befehl will take occasion to remind you.

Burris (Lightly).—That is being read to me every day now—afternoon today, as it happens. Isn’t it, my general? (Chucks her under the chin.) But I am afraid both the celebration and the reception will have to give way today. Tonight, instead of a military display, there will be an electric display. Sopote, the whole Pilsen district, perhaps the entire country may thrill to nature’s fire works. Just look there? (He points to the dark clouds now risen half way to the zenith.)

Erna.—You are mistaken. Not about the clouds, perhaps it will storm—But even if the retreat should need be given up, the colonel’s reception is sure to take place. You could not afford to turn up missing there if it should rain daggers. It would be to your eternal shame if you let it be reported in that company that Captain Burris, who in a rain of bullets won a gold cross for valor, was today scared off by a few drops on his carriage top.

Burris.—That is not the point. Be reasonable, Erna. There are still six loads of wheat waiting for the thresher, six other loads are on the way, and several more are still in shock. A thousand dollars may be washed off by the rain, if I don’t stay to superintend the job. Under these circumstances I am expected to take out a much needed pair of horses and run them to Sopote. I could not look my honest employer in the eye if I did such a thing. Harshaw is not my property, to risk it at my wife’s whim. Here is the lawful proprietor, to whom I must render an honest account.

(, who was about to leave the room at entrance, has been arrested against her will by the turn of the conversation. At his appeal she only shrugs her shoulders resignedly.)

Erna.—You see? Lena makes no objection. She realizes that our future is at stake. We must go; we can’t afford not to.

Burris (Speaking out of the window).—My dear man, you didn’t forget the canvases? In case of a sudden downpour, did you boss?