“The rockets were very fine, but their glory was soon over,” observed Harry, as he turned from the window. “They have gone, and have left nothing behind.”
“They are types of worldly glory,” said his mother.
“And the stars are like—oh, mother,” exclaimed Arthur, interrupting himself in the midst of his sentence, “I have just remembered the text which you wished that the stars had preached to the heart of Napoleon—it makes me think of the young missionary who died amongst the Africans whom he had led to the Lord: _They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever!_” (Dan. xii 3.)
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FRITZ ARNT was the son of a poor widow, who dwelt near the shore of the Rhine. He had been her chief comfort and helper since the day when Carl Gesner, the hard-hearted farmer, had turned her and her three children out of their cottage the very afternoon on which the funeral of her husband had taken place. In the middle of winter the sobbing widow had to go forth from her home; carrying little with her, for Carl had seized on most of her goods for the rent, which during her husband’s long illness had fallen into arrears. Yes! he had kept the very bed upon which her husband had breathed his last; and but for the kindness of neighbours, Frau Arnt and her children would have had to sleep on straw.
Fritz had been but a young boy then; but he had never forgotten the bitterness of that moment when his mother, sad, sick, and desolate, had pleaded with clasped hands to her hard-hearted landlord for a little delay, and had pleaded in vain. Fritz had helped to nurse her through a dangerous illness which followed. The boy had never forgiven the farmer, but had often said in his heart that a time would come when he should make Carl Gesner bitterly repent having nearly caused the death of a sorrowing widow.
Since that sad winter Fritz had worked hard to help to support the family, and with increasing success. His wages for field labour eked out what Frau Arnt earned at the lace-pillow; and something like comfort was beginning to be enjoyed in his humble home, when the sound of the war-bugle was heard in his native valley, and the news spread far and wide that a fierce and terrible foe was on the march to invade the German’s Fatherland. Fritz was under the age for military service which all Prussians are bound to give; but he had a strong arm, and his country needed strong arms. He was eager to serve his king, and be one of the throngs that from every hamlet were hasting to join the ranks of the army.