HOW TOM RODMAN JOINED THE GERMAN ARMY.
BY POULTNEY BIGELOW.
"Thomas," said Professor Schinkel, as they were in the midst of supper, "run down and see what all the noise is about."
Tom Rodman was only fifteen years old; but like most Yankee boys of his age, he was pretty quick at getting news. He knew that the French Emperor had declared war against the Germans; he knew that soldiers were being marched from every village of the father-land, and he knew also that the Rhine was near to the frontier of France. He was just then—this was in 1870—living in the family of Professor Schinkel, at Slaugenstein on the Rhine, and quickly made up his mind that the noise he heard in the street was made by troops marching to the war. So, with a big piece of brown-bread in his hand and another in his mouth, he sprang down stairs two steps at a time, and opened the front door. The street was full of soldiers who wore helmets of black leather on their heads, and who looked very brown and strong. They all seemed to be looking for something; they had been marching all day, and each soldier carried a knapsack that weighed quite as much as a very heavy child.
As Tom Rodman was wondering what these soldiers wanted, a big corporal with a straw-colored beard and blue eyes came up, measured the house with his eyes, counted the windows, then pulled out a piece of chalk, and wrote on the door,
"One corporal and seven men!"
Tom now noticed that other doors in the street were being treated in the same way, and quickly learned why; the whole town was to become night quarters for the troops marching to the war.
"Is the Herr Professor at home?" asked the corporal.
"Yes; come this way," said Tom, now very much excited.
The corporal knocked at the professor's door, and walked in with a sharp military tread. He then stood bolt-upright, put one hand to the side of his helmet, after the soldier fashion, and said, in a voice that could be heard all over the house,
"I beg to tell you most respectfully, Herr Professor Schinkel, that it is my duty to bring here for this night one corporal and seven men!"
"You are heartily welcome, Herr Corporal," said the professor. "I am glad that I am able to do a little good at this time for the brave men who are going to war for the sake of our common country."
All was now bustle in the Schinkel family. The seven soldiers came tramping up stairs, and were made as comfortable as was possible. Tom ran out to the baker's and the butcher's, and came running back with bread and meat. The soldiers had laid aside their guns, knapsacks, and coats, and each did his share in getting supper ready.
Corporal Kutchke was invited to eat at the professor's table; and he made the evening pass rapidly by telling stories about life in the army. Tom liked the corporal, for he was a big, healthy, strong man, full of enterprise. The professor found that Kutchke had been in the same university as himself, and they had many friends in common. Tom thought he would give anything if he could only be a soldier like Kutchke, and go to the war. The corporal noticed Tom's excitement, and said, "Herr Professor, why don't you send your son there to fight for his country?"
The professor laughed. "My son? Why, he's not my son. He's not German. Tom is an American boy. His name is Tom Rodman. His mother is the widow of a distinguished American artillery officer, and she has sent him here to learn German in my family."
"Well," said Corporal Kutchke, "you do surprise me! The boy speaks such good German that I never thought he could be a foreigner. But of course foreigners don't care about fighting for us!"