s a
buoyant and imaginative boy who preferred reading plays to poring over
tiresome school-books.

One day he went for a walk in the woods. He passed a young girl of rare
and appealing beauty. Their eyes met; they paused a moment, irresistibly
drawn to each other. Then they went their separate ways. He inquired her
name and found that she was Barbara Strauss and lived not far away. He
sought an introduction, but before it could be brought about he left
home to make his fortune in the New World.

He was eighteen when he stepped down the gang-plank of a steamer in New
York in 1845. He had mastered no trade; he was practically without
friends, so he took to the task which so many of his co-religionists had
found profitable. He invested his modest financial nest-egg in a supply
of dry goods and notions and, shouldering a pack, started up the Hudson
Valley to peddle his wares.

Henry Frohman had a magnetic and fascinating personality. A ready story
was always on his lips; a smile shone constantly on his face. It was
said of him that he could hypnotize the most unresponsive housewife into
buying articles she never needed. Up and down the highways he trudged,
unmindful of wind, rain, or hardship.

New York was his headquarters. There was his home and there he
replenished his stocks. He made friends quickly. With them he often went
to the German theater. On one of these occasions he heard of a family
named Strauss that had just arrived from Germany. They had been
shipwrecked near the Azores, had endured many trials, and had lost
everything but their lives.

"Have they a daughter named Barbara?" asked Frohman.

"Yes," was the reply.

Henry Frohman's heart gave a leap. There came back to his mind the
picture of that day in the German woods.

"Where do they come from?" he continued, eagerly.

On being told that it was Darmstadt, he cried, "I must meet her."

He gave his friend no peace until that end had been brought about. He
found her the same lovely girl who had thrilled him at first sight; he
wooed her with ardor and they were betrothed.

He now yearned for a stable business that would enable him to marry.
Meanwhile his affairs had grown. The peddler's pack expanded to the
proportion of a wagon-load. Then, as always, the great West held a lure
for the youthful. In some indescribable way he got the idea that
Kentucky was the Promised Land of business. Telling his fiancee that he
would send for her as soon as he ha