Maclauchlan,
Stereotyper and Printer, 56, 58 and 60 Park Street, New York.

WALDFRIED.

BOOK FIRST.

CHAPTER I.

In a letter bringing me his greetings for the New Year, 1870, my eldest
son thus wrote to me from America:

"We have been sorely tried of late. Wolfgang, our only remaining child,
lay for weeks at death's door. I avoided mentioning this to you before;
but now he is out of danger.

"'Take me to your father in the forest,' were the first distinct words
he uttered after his illness. He is a lusty youth, and inherits his
mother's hardy Westphalian constitution.

"In his feverish wanderings, he often spoke of you, and also of a great
fire, in strange phrases, none of which he can now recall.

"He has awakened my own heartfelt desire to return, and now we shall
come. We have fully determined to leave in the spring. I lose no time
in writing to you of this, because I feel that the daily thought of our
meeting again will be fraught with pleasure for both of us.

"Ah, if mother were still alive! Oh, that I had returned in time to
have seen her!

"Telegraph to me as soon as you receive tidings of brother Ernst. I am
anxious once again to behold Germany, which is at last becoming a real
nation. We who are out here in America are beginning to feel proud of
our Fatherland.

"We are surely coming! Pray send word to my brothers and sisters.

"YOUR SON LUDWIG."

The postscript was as follows:

"DEAR FATHER,--I shall soon be able to utter those dear words to you in
person.

"YOUR DAUGHTER CONSTANCE."

"DEAR GRANDFATHER,--I can now write again, and my first words are to
you. We shall soon join you at 'grandfather's home.'

"YOUR GRANDSON WOLFGANG."

* * * * *

I had not seen Ludwig since the summer of 1849, and now I was to see
him, his wife, and his son. I instructed Martella to send the news to
my children and sons-in-law; and to my sister who lives in the Hagenau
forest I wrote in person.

Joyous answers were returned from every quarter. But the happiest of
all was Rothfuss, our head servant. And well he might be, for no one
had loved and suffered so much for Ludwig's sake as he had done.

Rothfuss is my oldest companion. We h