Fritz and Eric | Page 2

on to the railway platform. "The old engine is getting its steam

up, and we'll soon be off. Cheer up, little mother! As I've told you, it is
not a good-bye for ever!"
"So you say, my son. The young ever look forward; but old people like
myself look back, and it makes us reflect how few of the noble
aspirations and longing anticipations of our youth are ever realised!"
"Old people like yourself indeed, little mother!" said Eric indignantly,
tossing up his lion-like head, and looking as if he would like to see any
one else who would dare to make such an assertion, the next moment
throwing his arms round her neck, and hugging her fondly. "I won't
have you calling yourself old, you dear little mother, with your nice
glossy brown hair, and beautiful bright blue eyes and handsome face--a
face which I fail not to see Burgher Jans gaze on with eloquent
expression every Sunday when we go to the Dom Kirche. Ah, I
know--"
"Fie, my son!" exclaimed Madame Dort, interrupting him by placing
her hand across his mouth, a process which soon stopped his indiscreet
impetuosity, a warm blush the while mantling her comely countenance;
for she was yet in the bloom of middle-aged womanhood. "Suppose,
now, any one were to overhear you, audacious child!"
"Ah, but I know, though," repeated the boy triumphantly, when he had
again regained his freedom of speech. "I won't tell, little mother; still, I
must make a bargain with you, as I don't intend that fusty old Burgher
Jans to have my handsome young mutterchen, that's poz! But, to
change the subject, why are you so despondent about my leaving you
now, dear mother? I've been already away from you two voyages, and
yet have returned safe and sound to Lubeck."
"You forget, my child, that the pitcher sometimes goes once too often
to the well. The ocean is treacherous, and the perils of the sea are great,
although you, in boy-like fashion, may laugh at them. Strong men have
but too often to acknowledge the supremacy of the waves when they
bear them down to their watery grave, leaving widows and orphans,
alas! to mourn their untimely fate with sad and bitter tears! Don't you
remember your poor father's end, my son?"

"I do, mother," answered the boy gravely; "still, all sailors are not
drowned, nor is a seafaring life always dangerous."
"Granted, my child," responded his mother to this truism; "but, those
who go down to the sea in ships, as the Psalmist says, see the perils of
the deep, and lead a venturesome calling! Besides, Eric, I must tell you
that I--I do not feel myself so strong as I was when you first left home
and became a sailor boy; and, although I have no doubt a good
Providence will watch over you, and preserve you in answer to my
heartfelt prayers, yet you are now starting on a longer voyage than you
have yet undertaken, and perchance I may not live to greet you on your
return!"
"Oh, mother, don't say that, don't say that!" exclaimed Eric in a heart-
broken voice; "you are not ill, you are not ailing, mother dear?" and he
peered anxiously with a loving gaze into her eyes, to try and read some
meaning there for the sorrowful presage that had escaped thus
inadvertently from her lips, drawn forth by the agony of parting.
"No, my darling, nothing very alarming," she said soothingly, wishing
to avoid distressing him needlessly by communicating what might
really be only, as she hoped, a groundless fear on her part. "I do not feel
exactly ill, dear. I was only speaking about the natural frail tenure of
this mortal life of ours. This saying `Good-bye' to you too, my darling,
makes me infected with morbid fear and nervous anxiety. Fancy me
nervous, Eric--I whom you call your strong-minded mother, eh?" and
the poor lady smiled bravely, so as to encourage the lad, and banish his
easily excited fears on her account. It was but a sickly smile, however,
for it did not come genuinely from the heart, prompted though the latter
was with the fullest affection. Still, Eric did not perceive this, and the
smile quickly dismissed his fears.
"Ha, ha," he laughed in his light-hearted, ringing way. "The idea of
your being nervous, like I remember old grandmother Grimple was
when I used to jump suddenly in at the door or fire my popgun! I would
never believe it, not even if you yourself said it. Ah, now you look
better already, and like my own dear little mother who will keep safe
and well, and welcome me back next year, surely; and then, dear one,

we'll have no end of a happy time!"
"I