"Well, then it may be that you will come to Frankfort and learn the business of me."

"Study to be a tailor? No, I do no care to learn to sew."

"What have you against the trade of tailoring? Do you know any that is more honorable? Is it not our business here upon earth to serve our fellow-men? And are not our fellow-men well served by having clothes made for them? If a tailor understands his business and works at it in a faithful, honest manner, he is as much to be respected as a kaiser who rules his people in a just and faithful manner. Listen to this little rhyme:

"'Not everyone can wear a kaiser's hat, Not everyone must daily gutters sweep; Yet everyone can do his honest work, In palace or in hut his charge can keep.'

"Do not think I am censuring you, my dear boy, but never, never speak disparagingly of any honest work."

"That little verse pleases me," remarked the quiet but observing Paul.

"My father often says the same thing but not in verse. He says that work is no disgrace to anyone. And he tells his pupils that the s.m.u.t that is upon the hands of a toiling man can be washed off by soap, but no soap can wash away the s.m.u.tty word that comes from the lips."

"That is true indeed," commented Mrs. Steiner, "and now we must journey toward home and the blessed land of sleep, as my dear mother always called the bedroom. And she was right, for a comfortable bedroom is indeed a blessed place to the weary one at the close of a hard day's labor or the child wearied with play."

They bade Mr. Stayman a cordial farewell, and, taking another glance at the gay scene about them, returned to the quiet flat.

The boys began to realize how tired they were when they reached number 37, and went directly to their room and to bed.

When all was quiet, the careful aunt went in and just as she had expected, found no one had thought to put out the light. Moreover, Fritz was lying with his feet upon the raised part of the lounge and his head on the low part.

"Fritz, dear boy, Fritz!" she said, shaking him by the shoulder, "wake up! You must not sleep with your head so low."

"Oh, aunt," he said plaintively, "let me sleep. I am all right."

"No, you are not all right, and you shall sleep the whole blessed night when you get in a more comfortable position. Don't you see that your feet are on the pillow where your head ought to be?"

"Yes, but I was sleeping so well. Aunt, see you turned the lounge the other way, the head was down this way when we first came."

"Yes, Fritz, you are right. I did turn it that you might not be waked by the sun shining upon your eyelids. Now step off, quick, and put your heels in their proper place."

"Oh, aunt, indeed I am satisfied. Please do not make me get up."

"But I am not satisfied," and Mrs. Steiner helped him rise and still half asleep he dropped back upon the lounge with his head upon the pillow. She kissed his fair forehead, took up the lamp, and glanced at the three sleepers, perfect pictures of healthy, happy boyhood.

"Now, Fritz, is not that a more comfortable way to sleep?" she asked, but there was no response for he was fast asleep.

"It would be a happy day for me, if he could come to Frankfort and live with me," she said to herself, "but not as I will, but as G.o.d wills. May He protect them all through life, and keep them pure of heart as now; and ten years hence may they look as openly and honestly into the faces of their fellow-creatures as they do now. Let them not seek worldly honors in preference to the favor of G.o.d."

Then she went softly from the room to her own apartment.

Pixy was the first to awake the next morning, and had a good run in the gra.s.sy backyard to get an appet.i.te for breakfast.

"Now it is time to wake our sleepers," said Mrs. Steiner, and went to the door of the room to call them.

They were too sound asleep to hear the call, and she opened the door and looked in. Upon the floor on the side of the bed occupied by Paul lay the pillow, and on the floor by the side of Franz's place lay the sheet.

Fritz had lost his blanket during the night, and, not more than half awake, had reached out for it and gotten his handkerchief, which he had spread over his shoulders, and his head was resting upon the chair which his careful aunt had placed in front of the head-piece of the lounge.

"Wake up, sleepers!" she said cheerfully. "The sun has been up this long while. There is only one washstand, but you can take turns at it; and there is a pitcher of cool fresh water. Now make yourselves neat as quickly as possible that you may be ready for breakfast."

She returned to the kitchen and presently the odor of frying sausage and steaming coffee floated into the room, and a little later the triplets stood beside Mrs. Steiner, neat, refreshed and in splendid spirits.

"Pixy has been trying to take a bath in the pan of fresh water that I set out for the birds," said Mrs. Steiner, "and as he could not get into it, he dipped a foot in as does a cat. All animals try to be clean if we give them the chance. Take that largest tin basin, Fritz, fill it with water, dip this dust brush in it, and wash him. It will answer almost as well as if he were put in a tub. See, he seems to understand what I am saying and wags his tail as if to say, 'yes, little mother, all animals love a bath, and would be clean if given the chance.'"

The boys hurried away and gave Pixy his bath which he certainly enjoyed, and had just finished when Mrs. Steiner called them to breakfast. They were about to take their places when Mrs. Steiner asked Fritz if he had not forgotten something.

"No, Aunt Steiner, I cannot think of anything that I have forgotten," he said.

"Go back to the kitchen, dear, and you will see Pixy's dish with bits of bread in it, softened and made richer by having some of the sausage gravy upon it. He smelled it, as did you while it was cooking, and we must not disappoint him. Go set his breakfast on the porch for him, and then we will have ours."

This was done, and all took seats, the blessing was asked, and then Mrs.

Steiner in her pleasant way called attention to the pure white linen tablecloth.

"You see, boys," she said, "that it is white and spotless; and you perhaps do not know how much labor there is in placing even one piece of washing in this fine condition. Now, I wish one of you to pour the coffee, and pa.s.s the cups around without spilling any."

"Let me pour it, Aunt f.a.n.n.y," said Fritz, and he poured a cupful for each person and pa.s.sed it without spilling a drop, while Aunt Steiner served the sausage.

Then Fritz poured his own coffee, and in pa.s.sing it to his place he noticed a tiny stain at Paul's plate. Immediately a discussion arose between them as to who was to blame in the matter.

"Never mind," said Mrs. Steiner soothingly, "I am satisfied that the whole cup of coffee has not flowed over the cloth. We will cover the stain with the mantle of love and charity in the shape of a clean napkin."

It was such a satisfaction to Fritz to see it hidden that he was ready to ask a question.

"Aunt f.a.n.n.y," he said, "where are we to go to-day?"

"Every place is new to you, and you can go where you prefer, but on horses that do not eat oats."

The boys understood that she meant that they must go on foot; and were well satisfied.

"Our horse at home eats oats," remarked Franz, "and loves sugar. Every morning, when papa is ready to ride to the forest mamma goes to the gate with him, with a lump of sugar for Betty, and always says, 'Now, Betty, be a good little horse to-day and bring your master safely home to his wife and children this evening. Do you understand?' and she does really seem to understand and neighs gently as much as to say 'I will.'"

"Can you go out alone, do you think, or do you wish me to go with you?"

asked Mrs. Steiner when breakfast was finished.

"I am sure we could go alone," replied Fritz. "If we get lost we will ask the way to 37 Bornheimer street."

They put on their straw hats for the march, and Pixy, who evidently thought that they were going home, sprang up in delight, and was so full of frolic that Fritz could scarcely fasten the cord to his collar.

"Now, are you going out without one of you thinking of something you have left undone?" asked Mrs. Steiner gently. "Will you not write one line to your parents to tell them of your safe arrival?"

"Yes, truly we forgot it," and the three looked at each other, then laid aside their hats. Fritz ran to his satchel for paper and envelopes, but his aunt told him that post-cards would be sufficient and supplied them with three, saying that they could write letters later.

"Would it not be better to wait and get scenery cards?" asked the thoughtful Paul; "scenes of something we will see while we are out to-day?"

"No, write now, and just a few words that your parents may get them this evening. It may perhaps save them sleepless nights."

The triplets sat down immediately to the business of writing home. Franz wrote so large that he could only get upon it the few words: "My dear father and mother and sister: We got safely to Frankfort last evening."

Fritz, with his usual frugality, used but a third part of his postal, and Paul took the middle course, and neatly filled his card.