# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1890_S35 # Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration) The Lutheran Pioneer. 35 The old Nurse. At H sembled in the house of the merchant Braun- thal, celebrating his return. The unusual joy- fulness prevailing among the guests showed that it was not a return from a mere pleasure trip, but rather from a long journey. The re- turn of Braunthal was like the coming back of one given up to be lost. Braunthal was the son of a rich merchant. In his youth his father and mother were called to their heavenly home, and the son fell heir to the entire estate. He continued in his father’s business, at first with great caution. Soon, however, he began to depart from the exacting principles of his father, and made ventures and speculations as his youthful heart suggested. At the time of his highest pros- perity he married Emilie, a young lady whom he had known from childhood. They were happy, and tried to make others happy. Braunthal gave alms liberally, and tried to do good among all classes. Ere long his name was known and esteemed in the huts of the poor as well as in the pal- aces of the rich. The wants he was trying to sup- ply for others soon found their way to himself. A financial disaster threatened him. He set to work with utmost sagacity to avoid it, but all in vain. He could not prevent a failure without resort- ing to wrong-doing, and that he would not do. He kept the trouble to himself as long as he could. At last, after a painful and wakeful night he dares to reveal it all to his wife. He sug- gests that with what little of their possessions remain they emigrate to America, where his father had many out-standing debts, some of which might yet be collected. It was a sudden and startling shock to his Emilie, but she stood by him as a faithful wife, and had no word of complaint to offer. The matter of settling up his business was at once attended to. It was soon discovered that his financial condition was even worse than he supposed. After all his debts were paid he had nothing left, not even enough to pay the passage to America. The morning after having balanced his ac- counts and dismissed his servants he sat mutely staring into space in the room that no longer was his. Emilie entered and kneeling before him smiled into his face. He embraced her and broke out into sobbing. ‘‘Karl, we are not as poor as you think,’’ said his loving wife, at the same time putting a well filled pocket- book into his hand. Braunthal looked with there was a large company as-| astonishment upon his wife who was vainly trying to hide her tears with smiles. ‘‘Emilie, | where did you get this money?”’ he asked. She soon explained that it was the price of some jewelry and fine clothes of which she had dis- posed, yielding her nearly one thousand dol-| lars, and added: ‘This, Karl, will be enough for us,’’ At this moment some one rapped at the door. It was the old nurse Catharine, one of the servants whom he ‘had dismissed the day before. “I want to take leave of my young master,’ she said, and grasping his hand kissed THE DELUGE. it, continuing, ‘‘The Lord will be with you. Just think, yesterday it was fifty years since I entered into your father’s service. I certainly expected to die in this house, but His will be done. Karl, when all is right again you will surely think of Catharine.” Nothing had made Braunthal feel his mis- fortune so keenly as the parting with this old, faithful woman who had been a mother to him. “Catharine,’’ said he, taking her by the hand, ‘where do you want to go?’’ Mechanically he reached for the pocket-book. ‘‘Oh,”’ replied the aged servant, ‘‘it matters little where I go; there can certainly be found some corner to die in. I thank you for the wages, master Karl, which your cashier paid me yesterday in full.’ Braunthal blushed and withdrew his hand from the pocket-book, saying smilingly: “T know your self-will; you are now richer than I.”’ The aged woman blessed the couple and took her leave. She had hardly left when the mailman brought a letter containing two thou- sand dollars, with a note reading thus: ‘To his benefactor this is sent with many blessings by a grateful heart.’’ Karl and Emilie were greatly astonished. He said: “I would have an ungrateful heart not to accept both your money and this. It must bring good fruit, being planted with such blessings.”’ The next day they left. Star- ing after them as long as her half- blind eyes would serve her was the silent and prayerful Catha- rine, who only left the wharf after the ship had entirely disappeared. Seven years passed by and Karl and Emilie returned to purchase the old homestead. They had been abundantly blessed in America, and were now no longer poor. His friends had assembled to greet him. They were celebrating his return with joy and thanksgiving. While he is telling the company of all his fortunate experiences Emilie withdraws. When she finally re-enters the room Karl says: ‘Why, where have you been?”’ ‘I was in the hospital at the deathbed of old Catharine. Her last words were a prayer for you, Karl; and her last request that we give her a decent burial. Here is her Bible. I took posses- sion of it, as there is no one else to claim it.”” Karl took the holy book and opened it. The blank paper in front was full of written characters. He had scarcely looked over the first page until he turned pale and sank back in his chair. Then raising himself with trembling, broken accents said: ‘‘Emilie, it was old Catha- rine that sent us the two thousand dollars—all her earnings, and for our sakes died a beggar.” ooo Counterfeit Doctrine. As he is a traitor to his prince who taketh upon him to coin money out of a base metal, yea, although in the stamp be putteth for a show the image of the prince; so he that shall teach any doctrine that cometh not from God, whatsoever he say for it, what gloss soever he set on it, isa traitor unto God, yea, a cursed traitor, though he were an angel from heaven. —s +o o> oe - “J WAS GLAD,” said a saint of old, ‘“‘ when they said to me, ‘let us go into the house of the Lord.’’?? How many modern saints are smitten this way?