The story of Father Miller. Written for his young friends by Franz Hoffman

Chapter I. Father Miller And His Wife

NE warm Spring-morning, just as the clock struck twelve, Father Miller came home, in accordance with his usual habit, placed his bamboo cane with the ivory head in its accustomed corner, laid his hat on the little table near it, and quietly wiped the perspiration from his brow. Then he joined his hands behind his back and, as washis

STORY OF FATHER MILLER.

custom, walked a little while in silence up and down liis room. Mother Miller, who was sitting by the window, cast an anxious, sympathetic glance at the father, shook her head, was about speaking, but bethought herself of something else, and continued knitting industriously at the stocking, which was visibly growing longer under her nimble fingers.

“ Mother,” said Father Miller, suddenly, in a depressed tone, “ this cannot go on longer ! We must really retrench our expenses still more ! Only think, just now, as I passed through the market, the Crier was ringing his bell and giving public notice, that the precious gift of God — our daily bread — had been raised six pennies in price, by order of our very sage magistrates. If it goes on this way, we shall soon not have money enough to keep ourselves supplied with the staff of life.”

The father had talked himself into a bad humor, and his eyes fairly flashed, as he now stood in front of his wife, and continued speaking : “And whence comes

FATHER MILLER AND JHIS WIFE.

this ? Simply because these rascally grain-dealers have not had their operations checked. I wish I were king for only one day — only one single day ! How astonished they would be !”

“ But, husband, dear,” replied the mother, with soft voice and a pleasant smile upon her lips, “ indeed, you are going too far. Don’t worry yourself with foolish fears ! Your table thus far has always been provided, and we have all had enough ; indeed, we have even experienced worse times than these. Only think now, how things looked after the war, when a bushel of rye cost five dollars. Did we ever then even once go to bed hungry? Has not the good Lord, for Christ’s sake, everywhere and at all times, helped us in our necessities? Have we not always had a roof over our heads, and clothing to cover our nakedness ? My dear, good husband, why should you be discouraged, if provisions are a little higher in price ? The good Lord still reigns, and we are stilL His children in Christ, as

STORY 6f FATHER MILLER.

we were years ago. Lift up your head, my dear, and look about in joy. He, who feeds the young ravens and clothes the lilies of the field, as the Saviour assures us, will then not desert us, who look up to Him with joyous and trusting hearts.”

Father Miller was somewhat quieted by these words of his sensible, good wife ; but the dark clouds, which shaded his brow and made his heart unusually heavy, were still not entirely driven away.

“ But see, mother,” said lie, “you speak just as you understand it! Yes! if it were nothing more than a little eating and drinking, shelter and clothing, I would have to yield the point to you. But what will become of the children ? William is now seventeen years old. The youth is so industrious and clever, that he gives me a great deal of pleasure. Even yesterday, the School Director said many good and pleasant things about him, and advised me again to allow him to

FATHER MILLER AND HIS WIFE.

continue his studies. Yes, but with what ? Our small income is scarcely sufficient for our daily necessities. How would it be, then, if we should be obliged to support the youth at the expensive University? And then our Anna and Albert ! It is true, that the girl will soon be out of school, and will cost us no more there. But the little boy must also learn something ! How then ? One in the University, the second at school, and our income no larger, while the little necessaries of life are ever growing dearer. Mother, if all this is not enough to make one’s head dizzy and set it aching, then I know nothing about it !”

The wife also began to reflect, and the bright, pleasant smile gradually disappeared from her lips, while Father Miller poured into her heart all the cares that oppressed him. Nevertheless, she looked into the darkened eyes of her spouse with firm confidence and, pressing his hand, encouraged him.

“The good Lord still reigns, father,”

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said she softly. “Only don’t forget that, husband dear ! See now, if it is right and proper for William that he should study, the means for it will be found. If not— then we must console ourselves in this, that God’s will has determined it otherwise, and rest content in this thought. You are no scholar, husband, and yet it has gone so well with you all your life, that we cannot be sufficiently thankful. Why despond now, when we have received so many proofs of God’s fatherly love ? No, no ! husband ! You must not complain and grieve, but rather assist me to reflect, whether there may not still some means be found, in spite of all obstacles, so that we can yet attain the end of our wishes.”

“Mother, I see no possibility!” said Father Miller. “No possibility — none at all ! Only think of it, what expenses are hanging over us. There is first, the interest on the cost of our house, which we must pay on St. John’s day. That makes ten dollars. Then William must have a

FATHER MILLER AND HIS WIFE. II

new coat; for recollect, lie goes around still in this warm weather in my old pilot cloth coat, whose stitches will no longer hold together, and then he perspires in it to such a degree, that he will soon evaporate into pure steam or melt into water. Now, even if I give him my light-green summer coat, and content myself with the linen one, it will cost five dollars, because it must have a new lining, and the tailor must live, and will not work for us for nothing : and so, ten and five make fifteen dollars. Next, Anna and Albert must have new shoes, which will also cost money. My shoes must be soledfor I have been obliged to fasten the soles, which flapped quite miserably, with a piece of twine to the uppers. Then, wife, you may say what you will, but you can’t go any longer with credit- into the streets with your dress. A new dress must be had, and that will cost three dollars, even if we select very plain calico and you play the mantua-maker. We must also eat and drink, must pay tui-

STORY OF FATHER MILLER.

tion-money; in short, when I take all these things together, there only remains of my whole quarter’s salary probably thirty dollars, — and with that, how can we let the youth pursue his studies ? It would not answer. It wouldn’t answer, even if he were to live on nothing but dry bread.”

With long strides the father again measured the room, and the mother remained silent, not thinking of any consolatory answer. In fact she was obliged to acknowledge the truth of everything her husband had said, and a mouse couldn’t gnaw a bit off from the expenses as he had stated them.

“Yes, husband,” she began, with trembling, “that w r ould indeed leave us nothing else but the necessity of retrenching a little more, as you remarked just now. Let us see ! I have always, up to this time, used three dollars a week for household expenses. If I were to cook a little more sparingly, I could make two and a half answer, and that would save nearly seven in a quarter. Now see, this will be as good as though we had made it, and it will come in place nicely for William, should he go to the University. Besides, husband dear, you have now served Ilerr Hartmann faithfully for eighteen years and more. Can he not be induced to increase your salary ?”

“That he wont do,” replied Father Miller, shaking his head. “I know him too well for that. Although I speak but the truth — that I do him more service than an ordinary copyist, — indeed, that I do more than he himself does, still — no, mother, we dare not expect it ; banish the thought from your mind. I will give up smoking, and my cup of coffee after dinner, which is only a luxury, and instead of drinking a glass of beer in the evening, will content myself with a glass of water, which will quench my thirst better. Then we can also save oil in the lamp of an evening, especially in summer, when the days are long; and if we find it tiresome, we can chat together, and that will make the time pass. Then — yes, that’s it — I can rise an hour earlier in the morning than was our custom. The morning hour has gold in its mouth. If there should be no gold, at least there will be silver. If I employ my time diligently, I can earn two silver-groschen more by copying every day. That will be twelve grosclien a week (not counting Sunday) and the grand total for the year will be six hundred and twenty-four silver-groschen, or twenty dollars and twenty-four silver-groschen. Your twentyeight dollars added to it will make already forty-eight. Dropping coffee, tobacco and beer, we can add twenty more, and we will have saved sixty-eight dollars. Mother, positively it will answer the purpose !”

“ Indeed it will, husband dear,” cried the wife, much rejoiced^ as the eyes of her husband began to look more happy. “But, my dear, you must not be deprived of your cup of coffee. Every laborer is worthy of his hire, and one as

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*5 diligent as you should have double hire ! No, no — whence indeed could you get strength and courage to perform your arduous duties, if you allowed yourself no recreation — no refreshment ? You mustn’t think of that, my dear.”

The wife arose, wound her arms around the shoulders of her husband, who offered but feeble resistance, and gazed so brightly and pleasantly into his eyes, that Father Miller scarcely had courage to resist her persuasions. He still refused, although it was done quietly. Then the children entered the room and, as the time for dinner had arrived, the conversation was broken off. The mother hurried out to the kitchen to dish up the dinner. Anna followed to assist her as much as possible, and, in a few minutes, a very savory potato-soup was on the table. As on every day, so on this one, the short, simple grace was said, and then all ate the meal with as hearty a relish as though they had been guests at the king’s table.

The father was enjoying the last spoonful of his simple meal, when the front door creaked, and soon after there was a knock at the room door. “See who is without,” said the father to Anna, and the girl sprang ’quickly forward to open the door. It had already, however, been opened, and the servant of the Privy- Counsellor Werthlos entered the room. Father Miller knew him, because he had often transacted business with that officer, and he was only surprised that the servant had sought him at his house, and not, as was the custom, at the office of Hartmann, the Advocate and Notary.

“Well now, what do you bring me, Dietrich ?” he asked the servant, rising from the table and going towards him. “ The business must be urgent, since you come here.”

“I have only to present the respectful compliments of the Privy-Counsellor, and to give you this note,” replied the servant. “ He told me that I need not wait for an answer.” Saying this, he handed Father Miller a neatly folded note, made a slight bow, and left as quickly as he had come.

“What can the Privy-Counsellor want of me ?” said Father Miller, more to himself than to the others, meditating as he weighed the letter in his hands. “ Hem !”

The letter was not immediately opened, but he seated himself again at the table, and waited patiently until the children were all satisfied, and the mother had returned thanks when the meal was finished. Then William seized his books, Anna cleared off the table, Albert ran into the street to play with his young companions, and the mother, after she had filled the father’s pipe, went into the kitchen, prepared a cup of coffee as usual for her husband, and then carried the coffee into the chamber where he had gone, as was his custom, to enjoy an hour of rest, and to chat with his wife about anything that had occurred during the day. When the mother entered the room, she saw the father sitting in the arm-chair, while on a little table near 2 him was the letter, which had just arrived, with its seal broken.

“Now, husband, dear, what’s the news?” asked the mother, extending to her husband the pipe with tobacco, and a lighter. Father Miller, still absorbed in thought, took the pipe, ignited it, without thinking of his resolution, and took a few vigorous puffs. Suddenly it occurred to him, that he had intended not to smoke any more ; when, dissatisfied with himself, he pushed the pipe aside, and pushed the cup of coffee with his hand far away from him.

“Mother,” he said, reproachfully, “I told you that” —

“Why, you have told me nothing,” said Mother Miller, interrupting him, and putting the cup with gentle force again to his lips. “ There, sip and drink to your pleasure and satisfaction, or I shall go directly out .and won’t speak a word with you until you are done. If you won’t do it for your own sake, do it for mine ; for it seems always as if there was something wanting, when I don’t see you enjoy this, after dinner.” “But ” —

“No more huts !” said the mother, with emphasis.

“You good wife!” said Father Miller, half smiling, half excited, holding the mother fast, as she pretended she was about putting her threat into execution. “I must then do as you wish, 'because I must speak to you of something very important. Stay, and sit down here ! and now — read this letter !”

The mother read it, and the father, while contentedly sipping his coffee, watched his wife’s face, the features of which grew more pleasant and fuller of smiles as she read on.

“0, husband, dear,” said she at last with joyous countenance. “This is in* deed very charming news ! Here we are now freed from all want ( Do you think that the Privy-Counsellor is really in earnest, when he offers you six hundred dollars salary as a Secretary of the Ex-

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chequer ? If, husband, that be true, which is here written in black and white, the good Lord couldn’t send us more pleasant news. And this comes just when we were anticipating want and sorrow. For Heaven’s sake, my good husband, why don’t you rejoice?”

The mother’s question was a proper one ; for Father Miller looked very grave, and thoughtfully shaking his head from side to side.

“Now see,” he said; “the place in the Exchequer would indeed be quite grand. But there’s exactly the difficulty in the case. Because it would be so great a blessing for me and all of us, I can’t yet believe it with my whole heart. Either the Privy-Counsellor has not the power to procure for me the place, or — and that seems to me most likely — he wouldn’t procure it without making me compensate him suitably for it. I don’t mean in money, because he knows, just as well as we, how small our resources are. No, he will require perhaps some-

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thing of me, that I cannot conscientiously do, and then the whole business, which pleases you so much, will come to nothing. Am I not right, little wife, in thinking we are of one mind, never, for mere worldly treasures, to deviate one hair’s breadth from the path of uprightness ?”

“Yes, most certainly, that is a matter of course, husband, dear,” replied the mother. “But see, here is your usual style and manner again ! Instead of rejoicing and thanking the good Lord for all the blessings and loving-kindnesses he showers down upon us, you indulge in strange doubts about things that in fact only exist in your imagination, and in this way destroy all the happiness of life. Now, husband, dear, if you would take my advice, you would put on your holiday coat, and go straightway to the Privy-Counsellor, to thank him properly for the good will, which he so plainly shows toward you in this matter. Do it, husband ! That is the most sensible

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“As you look upon the matter, so must it indeed be,” replied Father Miller, cautiously, but not rising from liis chair. “But — but I have known the Privy- Counsellor for a long time, and I tell you ; he does nothing gratuitously. Let one only confide in such a great man once ! Yes, indeed, if he hadn’t expected something from the old copyist, he might drudge still longer with Hartmann, the Advocate, and write his fingers stiff. There is some kink in the business, wife, some kink, I tell you, and that a very large and crooked one !”

“Oh, husband, dear, what kind of a kink can there be ? Herr Hartmann has accidentally spoken of you at some time, and given you the praise to which you are entitled. The Privy-Counsellor has heard it, and inquired about you, and has ascertained nothing but what is good and loveable. The place of Secretary was vacant. He thought of you ; knew that he could trust you. What wonder is it, that he seeks to offer you the place ?

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Indeed, the tiling is quite simple, husband, dear!”

Father Miller still shook his head. Mother Miller’s words seemed to fall upon very stony and unfruitful soil.

“That is nothing, all nothing!” he said. “He would have looked after very different people from me ! I know that well. That a great man would trouble himself about a poor copyist of an Advocate ! All smoke, pure smoke ! Nevertheless, you are still right, mother ! I must go to him, return suitable thanks, and then await, trusting in God, whatever happens. But do not rejoice too much, dear wife ! Think with me : The thing has a kink in it, and that a large one.”

Father Miller rose, put on his holiday coat, which the mother had quickly brought out for him, knocked the dust off his shoes, looked after the strings that held the soles and the uppers together, and betook himself to the Privy-Counsellor’s. With an anxious heart the mother awaited his return. When he arrived, she saw his face was somewhat brighter ; still he said nothing more than : “ I must make application to the Exchequer, and ask for the vacant position. The Privy- Counsellor has promised to do his best for me. We will see ! I shall not let the opportunity pass by ; but, mother, do not rejoice too soon, only think of the kink.”

“ And did the Privy-Counsellor say nothing about the kink ?” asked Mother Miller.

“Not a word, indeed,” said the father. “But men don’t always blurt out their thoughts, especially such skilful rogues. Now, now! only be quiet, mother! I know all you would say. But we shall see !”

The father took his holiday coat off, hung it in the cupboard, put on his old Jacob, as he called his working coat, and betook himself, as on other week days, to the office of Herr Hartmann, the Advocate and Notary. The mother smiled, as she

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looked after him, and, when he had turned the corner, said half aloud and half to herself: “The brave, good and yet incredulous old grumbler ! When happiness even once smiles on him, he has no pleasure in it, because he will always find scruples and doubts. This time faith shall be planted in him !”

CHAPTER II. If sinners entice thee, consent thou not

HE mother gave her husband no peace until she had seen the application to the Exchequer, desired by the Privy-Counsellor, written, sealed and directed. Father Miller hesitated and delayed, put the business off from day to day, and alleged sometimes this and sometimes that reason, as an excuse for his tardiness. At last, however, the perseverance of the mother was victorious, and she seized the father’s letter with joy in order to send it by William.

“Do you hear,” said she to her son, “give the letter to no one but the Privy- Counsellor Werthlos himself. Much depends on his being favorably disposed ; the 26 gratification of your own wishes and the happiness of your parents !”

William promised to follow the orders of his mother to the letter, and hurried away. But the mother then said : “ Gottlob ! Now, as we have done all that can be done, I am satisfied.”

“I wish I were so !” said Father Miller. “But I know not why it is, I have no real pleasure in the whole business. It always seems to me, that, instead of the happiness which you are hoping and expecting, nothing but mischief will come out of it. I must, however, speak once with Herr Hartmann about it.”

“No, husband, don’t tell him, I beg you!” the mother said quickly. “Why should you ? Herr Hartmann will only be vexed about it, because it is natural that he should fear to lose so industrious a worker as you are, and then you would have nothing to expect but trouble and vexation up to the time of leaving his office. Why then talk about it before the time ? See, husband, dear, you are al-

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ways saying that we women can never keep anything secret, and now you are the One who cannot keep silence. Talking is very well, but the old proverb runs: “ Silence is better than silver and Gold.”

“Each in its own time, mother!” replied Father Miller. “Herr Hartmann must know this at some time, and, therefore, I think it better I should tell him myself the whole story, than wait for somebody else to do it.”

“Undoubtedly you must tell it,” answered the mother, “ but not before the proper time arrives. You are not bound by oath to communicate everything to him that concerns yourself alone.”

Father Miller was obliged to admit this, and at length consented. He kept silent about the whole affair, and performed his duties honestly and indefatigably as before. Thus a few weeks passed away, and there was scarcely any reference made to the subject, because the mother saw, that, whenever she began to speak of it, the father was put out of humor, and for hours was pensive, and immersed in brown study. She scarcely doubted any more, that her wish would be accomplished, because she thought, and justly, that a brave, upright and industrious man, like Father Miller, well deserved the good fortune then in prospect. Her eyes often rested with joy upon her children, especially upon William, who had passed a brilliant examination and had secured a unanimous certificate from his teachers of his fitness for entrance into the University. Every thing indeed had been prepared for his departure, and the mother waited only for the receipt of the salary, which was almost theirs, in order to send him with her blessing from the parental roof.

It happened, one day, that Father Miller came home with a fiery red face, eyes sparkling with rage and quaking lips, spoke curtly to the mother, and then went into the chamber, closing the door after him. The mother became uneasy. For she saw clearly, that something must have

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happened to provoke* her usually quiet and self-possessed husband to such a degree. Timidly she knocked at the chamber door and begged admission; but no answer came from the father, and then she saw that she must wait quietly, until he would call her himself. For it was the habit of Father Miller, first to get himself somewhat composed before he would speak of things, that might have an unpleasant effect on those about him, and especially on his wife

With anxious heart the mother seated herself by the window, and carefully pondered in her mind what could be the cause of the father’s excitement. Then she heard him walking up and down, at first with quick, heavv steps, which afterwards became slower and softer. From this fact she concluded that he had become composed, or had conquered the ill humor that had so stirred him up. It wasn’t long before Father Miller opened the door, and beckoned to his wife to enter the chamber.

IF SINNERS ENTICE THEE, CONSENT THOU NOT. 3 I

“Now, my dear,” said he, whilst with a smile he tried to dissipate the anxious care, which was clearly enough expressed in her eyes, — “now, my dear, here we have it. The Privy Counsellor Werthlos is a bad man, and the proposed nomination as Secretary of the Exchequer was nothing more than a bait to blind me and enlist me as his accomplice. But the miserable fellow reckoned without his host. No, although 1 am only a poor copyist, still I hold my honor as dear as any Counsellor or minister, and the hour is yet to come which will see me deviate from the path of rectitude, even though I should, as a consequence, be plunged into misery and ruin.”

“ But what has happened ?” asked the mother again, quite agitated.

“Sit down here and listen to me attentively; I will tell you the whole,” said Father Miller. “You shall also read the letter, which the tempter has written me, and then you will acknowledge that the whole affair of the Secretaryship of the

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Exchequer is only a trap. As I was sitting quietly, yesterday, at my papers, Dietrich, the servant of the Privy-Counsellor, who was here a short time since, called to deliver a message from his master to Herr Hartmann, and handed me a letter so secretly, that no one noticed it. Old fool that I was : If I had only cast it at his feet: still I thought it were better first to see what it was, and the letter was put into my pocket. At noon, when I was coming home, I came around by the w^all, read the letter, and immediately felt the blood of resentment and anger rising to my head. Now hear, how the matter stands. Herr Hartmann has to conduct a suit against the brother in law of the Privy-Counsellor, Herr von Schwertberg. It is about a property worth Fifty-thousand dollars, between brothers, and which the Herr von SchwertbeTg will not give up, although the property is just as little his as it is yours or mine. The papers relating to the whole case were delivered to me by Herr Hartmann some weeks since, and the Privy-Counsellor, who has to defend his brother-in-law, heard this from Herr Hartmann’s own lips. Now, you must know, that I suspected, from the very first, this business of the vacant Secretaryship of the Exchequer, and hence I warned you, that it was not so certain and sure as to be counted upon. But I could not say anything; and why ? First for fear I might myself be mistaken, and might inflict on the Privy-Counsellor a flagrant wrong, by the suspicion that he was false ; and next, because, as you are well aware, I do not readily speak, without occasion, of things which concern no one but Herr Hartmann and myself. Well, I also thought, when the time comes, proper counsel will come ! You can always do as you please. You are still your own master. If the place is offered you, you would be a fool to reject it. If a man tries to buy your conscience, you can say good-by to him. I would rather remain a poor copyist on dry bread, than become 3

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a well-paid Secretary with sin and disgrace. Well ! Herr Hartmann gave me, among other papers, a document also, which plainly and clearly adjudges the property in question to the young Countess Kronberg — you know her, the poor orphan, whose mother died a year ago. Her guardian had entrusted the business to Herr Hartmann, and hence the whole story fell into my hands. If the opposition could have this document destroyed, then the claims of the Countess Kronberg would be without support, and there would be no use in having a trial. Now what does the cunning Privy-Counsellor do? He sends me this trash, in which he whisks about like a cat around a dish of hot soup, endeavoring to make me believe, with smooth words, that the document in question is spurious, and closing by asking me to send it to him, so that a most flagrant piece of injustice might not be done his brother-in-law. Yes, your most obedient servant: I shall now go back to Herr Hartmann, will make a clean breast to liim, show him the letter of the Privy-Counsellor, and tell him honestly and candidly what has transpired between the tempter and myself. That, in my opinion, is the most j udicious thing, and I should have done it at first, had I not counselled the matter with you before.’'