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That is what you really intend to do?" I said, half laughing, yet with an uneasy recollection of his illness and enfeebled mind. "Yes. Look here! I show you somedings." He opened a drawer of his desk and took out what appeared to be some diagrams, plans, and a small water-colored map, like a surveyor's tracing. "Look," he said, laying his finger on the latter, "dat is a map from my fillage.
I had not heard from him, and I had forgotten the name of his village, but as I looked up from the paper I was reading, I suddenly recognized him in the further end of the same compartment I occupied. His recognition of me was evidently as sudden and unexpected. After our first hand-grasp and greeting, I said: "And how about our new village?" "Dere is no fillage." "What!
After all, an astigmatic parent, seeing Adolf in a dim light, might be impressed by him. You never could tell. 'Well? said James, glaring. 'Anysing vrom dze fillage, sare? The bulk of Adolf's perquisites consisted of the tips he received for going to the general store down the road for tobacco, stamps, and so on. 'No. Get out, growled James, turning to his work.
He will perhabs make trouble for us in the fillage. But you are so brafe. I think the English are the brafest kind of beeble. I also thought it possible there might be trouble; but I decided to go on, not wishing to show fear before that craven. He cried aloud in awe and wonder when I told him that little boys threw stones in Christian England.
"So was the fillage when I leave him on the 5th of March, eighteen hundred and feefty. Now you shall see him shoost as I vill make him ven I go back." He took up another plan, beautifully drawn and colored, and evidently done by a professional hand. It was a practical, yet almost fairylike transformation of the same spot!
James listened attentively to this tabloid tragedy, but made no comment. 'Anysing vrom dze fillage, sare? Adolf's voice was meaning. James produced a half-crown. 'Here you are, then. Get me half a dozen stamps and keep the change. 'Zdamps? Yes, sare. At vunce. James's last impression of the departing one was of a vast and greasy grin, stretching most of the way across his face.
You have given up the idea?" "Yes. There is no fillage, olt or new." "I don't understand." He looked at me a moment. "You have not heard?" "No." He gently picked up a little local guidebook that lay in my lap, and turning its leaves, pointed to a page, and read as follows: "5 M. beyond, the train passes a curve R., where a fine view of the lake may be seen.
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