ld precedence to the new
comer. Having profited by a stranger's privilege, and the English garb,
which is held as sacred as a herald's tabard in many a foreign land, to
unite myself to the little group, and address some casual inquiries to
its frank and overjoyous members--old Philipp Stroer himself, the hero
of the day, deigned to take the picture from the hands of the sacristan,
and to ciceronize for my especial edification. I trust his restored
vision was not yet sufficiently acute to admit of his noting the smile
which, in spite of my better will, stole over my face, as I contemplated
the phenomenon of bad taste, and worse execution, which he thrust upon
my observation. It represented his worthy but very unpicturesque self in
the hands of an oculist, and the endurance of a cataract. The eyes of
his surrounding family were fixed with eager interest upon the event of
the operation. "And what," said I, anxious to make some sympathy in this
domestic crisis--"and what is the name of the surgeon whose efforts have
been blessed by the protection of the Black Lady?"

"The surgeon!"

"Yes; the oculist who is represented in the picture."

"That, sir, is no oculist, no surgeon; it is my Karl, sir, my beloved
son!" I shall never forget the voice, struggling with emotion, in which
the old man pronounced the words "_mein sohn_!"

The story of that son was one of deep, though humble interest. Trained
in the agricultural habits of his forefathers, and destined to succeed
to the laborious honours of the Stroerische farm, young Karl, to whom
his gray-haired father was an object of the fondest and most reverential
affection, beheld with horror the gradual advances of the disease which
was about to render the remaining years of life a burden to the
sightless man. With the fractiousness of advancing age and growing
infirmity, old Philipp obstinately refused to seek the assistance of any
learned leech of the country round. Brannau and Burchhausen boasted each
of a chirurgic wonder, but Stroer misdoubted or defied their skill. "His
frail body," he said, "was in the hands of a heavenly Providence, to
which, as might best beseem, he bequeathed its guidance." Meanwhile, the
perilous uncertainty of his footing, and the growing isolation of his
existence, became more and more perceptible, when one day, just as an
acknowledgement of "total eclipse" had fallen from his quivering lips,
the prop and stay of his household, his beloved son Karl w