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Updated: May 7, 2025
Bucher's answer was prompt and apparently unexpected. "Reunion with France," he said quietly "no true Alsatian wishes anything else." The German first stared and then threw himself back with a good-natured laugh. "Then indeed there's nothing to be done." The tone was that of a strong man's patience with a dreamer; so confident did the Germans feel in their possession of the "Reichsland."
"Josephine is too sentimental," said Emma placidly. "If she would only waken and talk sense, she would be fine." "She's such a sweet girl," said Edna. Every woman, girl or child she had ever known, came under that general heading in Edna Bucher's good books. They were "sweet." That was always the sum and substance of her criticism. There might have been a reason for such a general judgment.
She had never written any in her life, but she had the feeling that she could do it by half trying. "Poetry, isn't hard," she replied airily to Miss Bucher's look of surprise. "Just make out a list of rhymes like this." She took up a paper and wrote: Side wide right might knee me. "Then you fill them in," she continued. She held the pencil suspended in the air. Her brow was puckered with thought.
Germany and America in union would form the blessed state which would command the globe, and the two excelling peoples, by intermarrying, would produce a race too far ahead and above Frau Bucher's hoarse vocabulary to admit of much more than her Ach Himmels and Ach Gotts. Concurrent with all these lively happenings Kirtley had cultivated the acquaintance of Miles Anderson.
The lindens and plane trees and shrubberies began to hug the place under their cosy leafage. Herr Bucher's rose garden was prepared to grow merry with colors. The companionable garden corner for afternoon tea and beer became a nook of liveliness. The oncoming summer sent forth generally its exulting thrills.
Bucher's phrase, the period of "la haine" after the famous Saverne incident in 1912. That extraordinary display of German military insolence seemed to let loose unsuspected forces. "All of a sudden, and from all sides, there was an explosion of fury against the Germans."
He saw that Frau Bucher's insistence on a chaperone, which he had regarded a silly, outworn conventionality, appeared most wise. Germany was a poor place for an unguarded German girl. This ran through his mind: "Great Guns! What a country for me to study for the ministry, study morality, best fit myself for life, as advised by Rebner and, it seems everybody!"
One afternoon they were eating some of the big German cherries, and the fragrance of Herr Bucher's rose garden below was engaged in balmy conflict with the odors of cigars. "Well, what is the solution about the German people?" Gard propounded. "What's to be done with them? Here they are, industrious as bees and as fully armed with stings. Will a war cure anything?
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