Source: Das Nordlicht, 19 February 1925 · 📰

Letter to Editor: Raleigh, Grant County, ND
January 1925

Continuation —

Dear Nordlicht:

Our friend continues his story from Schlirf:

So I went into the forest, my dog Sport went with me. He barked at everything, just to express his joy with God’s great world. As if to say, “Mr. Pharmacist, it is a gorgeous day. Enjoy the sunshine in between the trees”.

I called Sport to me and petted his back and told him, “Yes, my Sport, it is nice here in Schlirf. As you can see, your dad is getting younger every day, thanks to that marvelous little spring of St. Boniface. If you should ever come down with an ailment, I will fetch you a dish full of it. You dogs have it made though. You can eat grass or whatever Mother Nature presents you with to purge yourselves. You also have the advantage not having to find the outhouse.” Thus I talked with Sport and he looked at me with intelligent eyes as if he understood every word I said.

Suddenly, just as I straightened up from petting the dog, I feel that urge and am just about to duck into the shrubbery, when to my horror I hear high-pitched voices. They belonged to three pretty girls, ages 15-18, probably the daughters of some sanitarium guests out here to look for wild strawberries. Lord have mercy, I said to myself and removed my hat as I greeted the girls. Innocently I bent down as if to pluck some berries too, but that movement did not go to well with my predicament. My skin flushed and crawled almost simultaneously. I held myself together the best I could. I greeted the girls once more, then talked to Sport.

“Come on, Sport. You don’t need to trample all the berries these girls want to pick. Let’s continue our walk!” And to the girls I said, “See you at the concert then.”

I left moving as best as I could, pressing my teeth together for all I was worth. I whistled and I sang a few bars of the folk song “Wer hat dich lieber Wald aufgebaut” (Who created you so wondrously, pretty forest…), when the mishap happened. Don’t laugh, gentlemen, it was not funny, the unthinkable occurred without further warning. I just stood there like Lot’s wife when she turned into a salt pillar, or Niobe who turned to stone. I was paralyzed with fear that the girls were following. I turned slowly and breathed deeply. They had gone the other way.

(To be continued)

Greetings,
Ignatz Gross