At the time this conversation took place, two weeks had elapsed since
Mrs. Anderson's "attack." Julia had heard nothing from August yet. The
"Hawk" still made his head-quarters in the house, but was now watching
another quarry. Mrs. Anderson was able to scold as vigorously as ever,
if, indeed, that function had ever been suspended. And just now she was
engaged in scolding the teacher who had expelled Norman. The habit of
fighting teachers was as chronic as her heart-disease. Norman had always
been abused by the whole race of pedagogues. There was from the first a
conspiracy against him, and now he was cheated out of his last chance of
getting an education. All this Norman steadfastly believed.

Of course Norman sided with his mother as against the Dutchman. The more
contemptible a man is, the more he contemns a man for not belonging to
his race or nation. And Norman felt that he would be eternally disgraced
by any alliance with a German. He threw himself into the fight with a
great deal of vigor. It helped him to forget other things.

"Jule," said he, walking up to her as she sat alone on the porch, "I'm
ashamed of you. To go and fall in love with a Dutchman like Gus Wehle,
and disgrace us all!"

"I wonder you didn't think about disgrace before," retorted Julia, "I am
ashamed to have August Wehle hear what you've been doing."

[Illustration: NORMAN ANDERSON.]

Dogs that have the most practice in cat-worrying are liable to get their
noses scratched sometimes. Norman took care never to attack Julia again
except under the guns of his mother's powerful battery. And he revenged
himself on her by appealing to his mother with a complaint that "Jule
had throwed up to him that he had been dismissed from school." And of
course Julia received a solemn lecture on her way of driving poor Norman
to destruction. She was determined to disgrace the family. If she could
not do it by marrying a Dutchman, she would do it by slandering
her brother.

Norman thought to find an ally in Jonas.

"Jonas, don't you think it's awful that Jule is in love with Dutchman
like Gus Wehle?"

"I do, my love," responded Jonas. "I think a Dutchman is a Dutchman. I
don't keer how much he larns by burnin' the midnight ile by day and
night. My time-honored friend, he's a Dutchman arter all. The Dutch is
bred in the bone. It won't fade. A Dutchman may be a gentleman in his
way of doin' things, may be honest and industrious, and keep all the
commandmen