accomplished
this also. She could not overcome her astonishment at the feats
she was able to perform in the water, now that she had lost her
fear of it. She became bolder and bolder with each new trial and
finally took every one's breath away by announcing that she was
going off the top of the tower. And she did it, too, without a
moment's hesitation. There was one trick she had which caused
them all great amusement. She _would_ hold her nose when she
jumped, which Nyoda laughingly explained, was _very_ bad form
indeed. It was a sight to see her going off the tower, feet
together like a statue, one hand held straight above her head and
the other tight over her nose.

Sahwah's arm had fully healed by this time and the splints were
taken off. The old doctor tried hard to be cheerful when she came
to him the last time, but his heart had gone out of his work. He
told Sahwah about his son and showed her the Iron Cross. Led on
by her sympathetic manner, he talked a long time about Heinrich,
told her little incidents of his school days, and dwelt with
pride on the record he had made in the class room, in the
gymnasium, in the Klinik. When he spoke of the brave deed which
had won him the Iron Cross his voice sank into a reverent whisper
and his stooped figure straightened up into the bearing of a
soldier. It was no light thing to be the father of a hero! Then
he added, "But I forget, Missis Sahwah, you haf also done a brave
deed and brought honor to your family. You should also haf de
Iron Cross!"

Sahwah smiled at the idea of being decorated for "pushing a lady
by de neck across de top of de lake" as the doctor had expressed
it. She and the doctor had become great friends while he was
taking care of her arm. He had taken a great fancy to her from
the start. Sahwah had no German blood in her; she was straight
Puritan descent and knew only the few words of the German
language she had acquired in school, and pronounced them badly.
She reminded him of nothing in the Fatherland, and he was unlike
any one she had ever associated with, and yet between these two
there had sprung up the warmest kind of friendship. He opened up
his cabinet and let her handle the instruments, a thing it would
have been worth his housekeeper's life to have tried; he pulled
out old pipes and pieces of pewter and told her their stories; he
showed her pictures of his wife and little Heinrich. And Sahwah
in turn took his breath away rec