ecting a Dakota prairie for an outing. Yet ... No, they could not
be summer boarders.

But what then? In his intensity Hans actually forgot the grass and,
unfailing producer of inspiration, ran his fingers frantically through
his mane.

"Ah--at last--of course!" The round face beamed and a hard hand smote
a harder knee, joyously. That he had not remembered at once! It was
the new banker, to be sure. He would tell Minna, quite as a matter of
fact, for there could be no mistake. Hank Judge, the machine agent,
and Eli Stevens, the proprietor of the corner store, had said only
yesterday there was to be a bank. Looking up the street the little man
spied a familiar figure, and sprang to his feet as though released by
a spring, his hand already in the air. There was Hank Judge, now, and
he didn't know--

"Dinner, Hans," announced Minna at his elbow.

Holding the child of his brain hard in both hands lest it should
escape prematurely, the little German went inside to preside over a
repast, the distinctively German incense of which ascended most
appetizingly.

Hans, junior, in a childish treble, spoke an honest little German
blessing, beginning "_Mein Vater von Himmel_," and emphasized by the
raps of Hans senior's knuckles on certain other small heads to keep
their owners quiet.

"Fresh lettuce and radishes!" commented Camilla, joyously.

"Raised in our own garden _hinein_," bobbed Minna, in ecstasy.

"And sauerkraut--" began Ichabod.

"From cabbages so large," completed Hans, spreading his arms to
designate an imaginary vegetable of heroic proportions.

"They must have grown very fast to be so large in May," commented
Camilla.

Hans and Minna exchanged glances--pitying, superior glances--such as
we give behind the backs of the infirm, or the very old; and the
subject of vegetables dropped.

"A great country for a bank, this," commented Mr. Becher, with
infinite _finesse_ and between intermittent puffs at a hot potato.

"Is that so?"

Hans nodded violent confirmation, then words, English words, being
valuable to him, he came quickly to the test.

"You will build for the bank yourself, is it not so?"

It was not the German and Minna who exchanged glances this time.

"No, I shall not build for the bank myself, Mr. Becher."

"You will rent, perhaps?" Hans's faith was beautiful.

"No, I shall not rent."

The German's face fell. To have wasted all that thought; for after all
it was not the banker!

Minna,