Page:Stories by Foreign Authors (German II).djvu/83

Rh price I'll get for my oats next market day? A business! . . . and what business, my lad?"

"Uncle," said Ephraim, "if I dispose of all that is left us, I shall have enough money to buy a small business. Others in our position have done the same . . . and then . . ."

"Well, and then?" the uncle cried, eagerly anticipating his answer.

"Then the Sechûs of our mother will come to our aid," Ephraim said softly.

The farmer's eyes grew dim with moisture; his sister had been very dear to him.

"As I live!" he cried, brushing his hand across his eyes, "you are true children of my sister Gudule. That's all I can say."

Then, as though moved by a sudden impulse, he quickly produced, from the depths of his overcoat, a heavy pocketbook. "There!". . . he cried, well-nigh out of breath, "there are a hundred gulden for you, Ephraim. With that you can, at all events, make a start; and then you need n't sell the few things you still have. There . . . put the money away . . . oats have n't fetched any price at all to-day, 't is true; but for the sake of Gudule's children, I don't mind what I do . . . Come, put it away, Ephraim . . . and may God bless you, and make you prosper."

"Uncle!" cried Ephraim, as he raised the farmer's hand to his lips, "is all this to be mine? All this?"