[Fritz and Eric by John Conroy Hutcheson]@TWC D-Link book
Fritz and Eric

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
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"I couldn't bear to think that those cheeky penguins should invade it and perhaps make their nests there after we were gone!" "What ?" exclaimed Fritz, beginning to laugh.

"You don't mean to say you haven't forgiven the poor birds yet for--" "Stop!" cried Eric, interrupting him.

"You know what you agreed to, eh?
Let bye-gones be bye-gones!" "Good," said Fritz; and there ended the matter.
The return voyage of the _Pilot's Bride_ back to America was uneventful, although full enough of incident to the brothers after their enforced exile; but when the vessel arrived again at her old home port of Providence in Rhode Island, of course the two had something more to excite them in the greeting they received from the cheery and kindly- hearted family of the good old skipper at the shanty on the bay.
The worthy dame, Mrs Brown, welcomed them like sons of her own; while, Miss Celia--declared that Eric had grown quite a man--adding, with a toss of her head, that she "guessed he'd lost nothing of his old impudence!" However, in spite of all the kindness and hospitality of these good people, Fritz and Eric were both too anxious to get home to Lubeck to prolong their stay in the States any longer than was absolutely necessary; so, as soon as the worthy skipper had managed to convert their stock of sealskins and oil into hard cash--getting the weighty and old-fashioned doubloons exchanged for a valuable banker's draft, save one or two which they kept for curiosity's sake--the pair were off and away again on their way back to Europe by the next--starting North German steamer from New York.
Before setting out, however, Eric promised to return to Providence ere the following "fall," in time to resume his post of third mate of the _Pilot's Bride_ before she started again on another whaling voyage to the southern seas.
One more scene, and the story of "The Brother Crusoes" will be "as a tale that is told!" It is Christmas Eve again at Lubeck.
The streets as well as the roofs and exteriors of the houses are covered with snow, exhibiting without every appearance of a hard winter; while, within, the interiors are filled with bustling folk, busy with all the myriad and manifold preparations for the coming festival on the morrow.
Mirth, music, and merry-making are everywhere apparent.
In the little old-fashioned house in the Gulden Strasse, where Fritz and Eric were first introduced to the readers notice, these cheery signs of the festive season are even more prominently displayed than usual; for, are not the long-absent wanderers expected back beneath the old roof- tree once more, and is not their coming anticipated at every hour--nay, almost at any moment?
Aye! Madame Dort is sitting in her accustomed corner of the stove.

She is looking ever so much better in health and younger in appearance than she was at the time of that sad celebration of the Christmas anniversary three years ago, detailed in an early chapter of the story; and there is a smile of happiness and content beaming over her face.
The good lady of the house is pretending to be darning a pair of stockings, which she has taken up to keep her fingers busy; but every now and then, she lets the work drop from her hands on to her knees, and looks round the room, as if listening and waiting for some one who will soon be here.
Madaleine, prettier than ever, clad in a gala dress and with bright ribbons in her golden hair, while her rosebud lips are half parted and her blue eyes dancing with joy and excitement, is pacing up and down the room impatiently.

She is too eager to sit still! Mouser, our old friend the cat, is curled up in a round ball between Gelert's paws on the rug in front of the stove; while, as for Lorischen, she is bustling in and out of the room, placing things on the well- spread table and then immediately taking them away again, quite forgetful of what she is about in her absence of mind and anxiety of expectancy.
Burgher Jans, too, now and again, keeps popping his head through the doorway, to ask if "the high, well-born and noble Herren" have yet come--the little fat man then retiring, with an humble apology for intruding, only to intrude again the next instant! Madame Dort had received, late that afternoon, a telegram from Fritz, stating that he had reached Bremerhaven; and that he and Eric were just going to take the train, hoping to be with them in Lubeck ere nightfall.
Cause enough, is there not, for all this excitement and expectancy in the household?
Presently, a party of singers pass down the street, singing a plaintive Volkslieder, that sounds, oh so tender and touching in the frosty evening air; and then, suddenly, there is a sound of footsteps crunching the snow on the outside stairway.
Gelert, shaking off poor Mouser's fraternal embrace most unceremoniously, starts up with a growl, rushing the moment afterwards with a whine and yelp of joy to the rapidly thrown open door; and, here he jumps affectionately up upon a stalwart, bearded individual who enters, trying to lick his face in welcome.
"Fritz!" cries Madaleine.
"Eric!" echoes the mother, the same instant.
"Madaleine!" bursts forth from Fritz's lips; while Eric, close behind, cries out joyously, "Mother--mutterchen--dear little mother mine!" The long-expected meeting is over, and the "Brother Crusoes" are safe at home again.
Little remains to be told.
Early in the new year, when winter had given place to spring and the earth was budding forth into fresh life, Fritz and Madaleine were married.


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