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Updated: September 20, 2025
Her mother was suffering an agony of torment in the kitchen. "Why, I have been out for a walk," she answered confusedly. "Didn't I tell you not to go out any more after dark?" said Gerhardt, utterly ignoring Brander. Jennie colored furiously, unable to speak a word. "What is the trouble?" inquired Brander gravely. "Why should you talk to her like that?"
It was easy for Mrs. Gerhardt to deceive her husband as to the purchase of necessities and she had not as yet indulged in any of the fancies which an enlarged purse permitted. Fear deterred her. But, after Jennie had been in Chicago for a few days, she wrote to her mother saying that Lester wanted them to take a new home.
Finally, fate intervened in the sudden home-coming of her father, who had been seriously injured by an accident at the glass-works in Youngstown where he worked. It was on a Wednesday afternoon, in the latter part of August, when a letter came from Gerhardt.
Gerhardt scrambled up the side. "Get out, Wheeler! Look at that," he pointed to big sleepy bubbles, bursting up through the thick water. "You've stirred up trouble, all right! Something's going very bad down there." Claude got out after him, looking back at the activity in the water. "I don't see how pulling out one helmet could stir the bottom up so.
Could this be really Jennie Gerhardt, the washerwoman's daughter, she asked herself, as she gazed in her mirror at the figure of a girl clad in blue velvet, with yellow French lace at her throat and upon her arms? Could these be her feet, clad in soft shapely shoes at ten dollars a pair, these her hands adorned with flashing jewels? What wonderful good fortune she was enjoying!
The play was first made in this way by Gerhardt and myself in 1886, and during the past two seasons it has been tried in the New York team many tunes with the best results. Each player must, however, understand his part and all work together.
"Did he make up to you?" her mother was about to ask; but the words were only half out of her mouth before her daughter sank down into one of the chairs close to the kitchen table and, laying her head on her arm, burst forth into soft, convulsive, inaudible sobs. "Now, now," said Mrs. Gerhardt. "There now, don't cry. What did he say?"
On one of these bald rocks sat Lieutenant Gerhardt, hatless, in an attitude of fatigue or of deep dejection, his hands clasped about his knees, his bronze hair ruddy in the sun. After watching him for a few minutes, Claude descended the slope, swishing the tall ferns. "Will I be in the way?" he asked as he stopped at the foot of the rocks.
Perhaps the most satisfactory expression of the Christian consciousness on the subject is to be found in the hymns of the Church, from the Te Deum down through Scotua Erigena and Fulbert of Chartres to Gerhardt and Toplady. See Schaff's Christ in Song.
"'Ooh ah in aven," repeated the child. "Why do you teach her so early?" pleaded Mrs. Gerhardt, overhearing the little one's struggles with stubborn consonants and vowels. "Because I want she should learn the Christian faith," returned Gerhardt determinedly. "She ought to know her prayers. If she don't begin now she never will know them." Mrs. Gerhardt smiled.
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