EDITOR'S WALLET.

Otago Witness, Issue 2735, 15 August 1906, Page 77

EDITOR'S WALLET.

The Fnneral of Herr Hauser.

— Fran Hauser Buries her Husband and Settles an Old Score at the Bb me Time.—

Frau Selma Hauser was bowed with grief. That is, she was bowed as much as her habitual dignity would permit. She was not accustomed to being a widow. As she told Mrs Hanf, wlto lived in the rooms opening on the airshaft, this was the first time. So sho grieved. It was not for Hauser, who was worthless and had not done right by her ; but widows must- mourn or be hopelessly out of the fashion. So she mourned because she was a widow, and made the most of it.

As visitors entered she wept sparingly when questioned by each, so there would be tears enough to go around. Circumstances had made her economical in all things, and yet ready for all emergencies. "Ah, Hauser. poor Hauser!" said Mrs Horringer as she went into the room, "I hope he left his affairs well? He will be missed by the singing society, though his voice wag a loud one rather than a true bass. But he will be missed."

"He will be imgeed elsewhere," answered the widow coldly. The women, in days gone by, had teen rivals for Hauser, and unfortunately the one who was now. his widow had won. But M*s Horringer had ample revenge, for after Hauser was safely married she anade him fall in love with her, and then scorned him.

Now she felt- the widow's scorn, and pretended not to notice it. She noted, however, that" the mourning drees was the ina«de-over black grosgrain, which Mrs Hauser had worn at the last public exhibition of the singing society. A few crepe draperies completed its effect. "Fo'i will be lonely," said Mrs Horringer. "I j wae ever so lonely when I heard Hcrringer was gone. You will miss your >nan." "'I often did before," eaid the widow, growing still more cold. "I am growing used to it. -Will yon go to the dining room, please. His 6ister is there. She will pour coffee, and there ie cake." •Mrs Horrmger walked haughtily and indignantly to the dining room, where she drank tliree cups of coffee and ate the whole of a krantz. She would have gone even further had Mrs Olp not ceased to replenish the cup, after she had deftly reinovetr the cake plate to a safe place. Mrs Horringer's anger continued to mount the more she considered the way she had been treated, and it was not until she had dtftly apeared the last crumb of cake fallen on the table cover that she realised others were in the room end were intentfv watching her. "It is sad," said Mrs Friedel, whose husband was the tenor soloist in the society to which Hausev belonged. "And he was still young. My man Oscar tried often to .have, him take out an endowment, but "he would take ont only a few little industrials, and the 60. cents, the week Oscar got wae hardly worth climbing the stairs for. Then the trouble came, for the United Sons of Schwabia-' would not take him because of his Ah, it is sad ! Well, well 1 My my ! And Oscar offered him- fcpecial rates."' "But he carried in other companies and societies," said Mrs Olp, rushing to the defence of her brother. "And he had insurance on the other side that he kept up. He was in the Fraternal Athletic Societies of Berlin and the Hamburg Brotherhood of Chorus Singers. She will not want '' i'he others were impressed, and their opinion of Hauser rose. Mrs Hauser had lived a saving, if fomowhat lonely, life, and both of those characteristics were due to her husband. So she must have put away a, little money without his knowing They recalled that she crimped on every occasion, going so r ar aa. to give no whipped cream pn the covered npple cake when she had a kaffeeklatsch, though she held one or.lv seldom and >h» • yen dared on one occasion to violate- <. 11 the ethics by serving condensed milk instead of cream. 'When is it to be?" asked Mrs HOlrirgor "It" was thr burial of Hauser. "To-monow," said Mrs Olp, a« she ponretl herseif a cup of ceffee and removed iho pot from the reach of the othere. "I will rol a little now, for later I am^fo receive the delegates from his societies." "I will come," said Mrs Horringer, as «^h 2 rose- defiantly and walked from the room

"She will not dare!" said Mrs Olp, after »fee had allowed tho visitor timo to be well out of hearing. • She will daro."- said Mrs Friedel. "She dared to come here, though she first broke Mrs Hauser's heart by stealing Hauser away from her, and then broke Hauser's heart by refusing to have him. She will dare, and she will bring Volkmann with her. They are to be married. There is a rumour sc, and she started it by telling everyone." Mrs Horrmger did dare, and she came in black, the same black the assumed when it was reported from Germany that Horringer was dead. There were some, who Laughed at the report, and insisted that Horringer was alive and happy, which was not the case when he lived with Mrs Horringrr. With Mrs Horringer was Volkmann, one of the best acquisitions a funeral could hive, for he was skilled in consolation and versed in the many details that pertain to the higher forms of funerals, and he was, furthermore, of striking appearance. The widow noticed neither of them, and the man felt himself crushed. For once he was silent in company.

Instructions, however, were given that he ride in the last hack with Mrs Horringer. They were not noticed at the cemeterj, nor were they noticed when the party etarted toward the restaurant for tho post funeral lunch — the schiniei'kase party always held after a burial. Mrs Hauser, despite her woe. lookod charming. There wa« still elasticity and grace about her plump figure, and her 6mooth skin had still a glow cf colour in it. The black became her well, and effectively set off the delicacy of her complexion and the tawny wavlness of her hair. la it any wonrfier.- then, that v.hen ■-he almcet fainted." stumbling blindly up the restaurant steps, ihc gallant Herr Voikraann should have bounded to her side and prevented her from falling.' And is it My wonder that in her forlorn condition she should have chin 3 to him, lraned on him, and let hin; guide and support her? It was no wonder, but it wa> a won lo and it was alto v eiujuUlou:: skainc thai

Mrs Horrmger. deprived- of tier > escort, should have acted as • she did. She even went so far as almost to refuse refreshments, and when she uid eat she criticised the schmicrkase and complained because wheat bread was not served up as well as rye The widow was too deep in her qrn'ef to notice it, but the others noticed and commented on it among themselves. "You should bear up," eaid; Volkmann gently to tho widow, but withal in the. voice of on© accustomed to commanJ. Mrs Hauser sighed. "You should bear up," he continued; "the pot choose is very good. I will lielp you to fome more. I always preferred Oak Cemetery because Schrnutterer knows h<v\ to do these thing-s. You should Loar up. It will not always be sorrowful. "You are young " "Nearly 30," she said sadly as she cut deep into the unsalted butter and rounded up the only two slices of bread left. "So-ho? * And Hauser did not leave you badly?" he asked in a, voice of insinuating solicitude. "Very little. I have not counted up. I have not thought of it. There is less than 5000dol in money, 183dol less, and a few little insurances, seven of them ; and his share from a German, estate; and the little house we go to in the summer. Not much more." Volkmann sat up in interest during the recital, but the' widow was too preoccupied to notice it. His efforts to console her became more ardent. He even went to the extreme of departing from the routine of the funeral lunch, ordered more ham and sliced sausage, more pot cheese and Swiss cheese, coffee, and bread, hot beef, and Pilsener, all at his own expense.Such action arou3ed Mrs Horringer, and she managed to manoeuvre until she was opposite the widow and her consoler. "Volkmann. it's time to be going," she said sharply. He regarded her as though shp was one whom he had knowr. in the distant past but did not now recognise., "I will go dow, Volkmann," she continued, raising her voice. Still he looked at her, and the widow looked also. "Volkmann!" (the voice was menacing) "come along with me." Then he spoke softly, but -sternly: "Anna, shame you ! Would you cause trouble in an hour of sorrow? Would you add to the woes of a broken-hearted widow? Shame you! I was Hauser's friend. I will not see his widow sorrow if I can help it. Shame you! I will protect to the best of mv ability. I will seen no harm comes to her." The tone was dramatic, and at the climax he rose in a protecting attitude, so that all could see as well as hear. Mrs Horringer was subdued. Mrs Haueer had again been victorious. Volkman rode home in the first carriage with Mrs Hauser, Mrs Olp, much against her will, making place for him.— New York Sun.

[sued, during which the train stopped, ami some fresh pasengers 'got in. Among " the newcomers was a high* spirited gentleman with a peacock's feather in his hat, who at once caught the eye. He instantly claimed the red-faced man as- an old acquaintance, but I noticed that the red-faced man was not too effusivelyresponsive. ,^,., „., „ "Remember last Bank 'Ohday? the newcomer remarked, "when you would insist on selling the pony to se# who should ■ kiss the barmaid?'* ' "I do not." returned the Ted-faced man, definitely, but with an uneasy sidelong 1 glance at the youth opposite. "No; of course, you don't. But we told you the next day. And it was true — every word. You wasn't half as bad as old Thomson, though. Come, you am t forgot Thomson! Feller that would argue; and wound up by wantin" to fight the stone Highlander outside a 'bacca shop at Nutley." "Yes, I seem to remember Thomson, r mumbled the fed-faced man. "But how's your wife? 1 ' "Still waiting to be born, I suppose, - replied the other, with a grin. "What a fool! I mean your mother. "Oh, she's- still dead, thanks," the high--spirited gentleman answered, flippantly. "Bat whacs the' matter wi' you tins mornc ing * Ain\ bin on the fuddle already* have you?" —New leaves. — "My dear Knowles," cried the red-faced 1 man, with a pathetic attempt to retrieve his dignity. "You know I've given up all that sort of thing;." ' "So have. I, responded Knowles. "Scores o' times. And shall do, over arid _over again, I *dessay. • But siooe when have you become a pattern foe the young, a it ain't an inconvenient, question?" "Oh, it's a long time, now. Getting>on f or " "Three-quarters of a' hour," chuckled Mr Knowles gleefully. "Well I suppose that does seem a lpng time for an old soaker like you to go without a gargle ! You see, I called in at the King's Arms this mornin', .and they told me you'd been in there — as nsual. Sometimes, therefore; Ido , marvel how you keep it up. For you ain'^fc so young as you were, you know, Sammy." "No, and I never was," growled his victim. "Though, as far as that goes, the other resumed, "I've known men half your agethat might ha" bin twice as old as what you are. — or ever will be." The youth in the sponge-bag cap laughed obtrusively. —A Bit of Hiar Own Back.— "If I was you," Said the red-faced man, bitterly, "I should go down and pawn my. head and sell the ticket— if I could— or swop it for a respirator. Can't you see how you're annoying- everybody with your silly jabber?" "Not at all, I assure you, murmured the youth. in the sponge-bag cap. "Hullo! here's Mister Everybody to speak

Mr Henry Meyer's view in the New York tfimes of one phase of tho Chicago scandals : —