Chapter Chapter 12 · Bass was no sooner in Cleveland than the marvel of that growing

city was sufficient to completely restore his equanimity of soul and

to stir up new illusions as to the possibility of rehabilitation for

himself and his family. "If only they could come here," he thought.

"If only they could all get work and do right." Here was no evidence

of any of their recent troubles, no acquaintances who could suggest by

their mere presence the troubles of the past. All was business, all

activity. The very turning of the corner seemed to rid one of old

times and crimes. It was as if a new world existed in every block.

He soon found a place in a cigar store, and, after working a few

weeks, he began to write home the cheering ideas he had in mind.

Jennie ought to come as soon as she was able, and then, if she found

something to do, the others might follow. There was plenty of work for

girls of her age. She could live in the same house with him

temporarily; or maybe they could take one of the

fifteen-dollar-a-month cottages that were for rent. There were big

general furnishing houses, where one could buy everything needful for

a small house on very easy monthly terms. His mother could come and

keep house for them. They would be in a clean, new atmosphere, unknown

and untalked about. They could start life all over again; they could

be decent, honorable, prosperous.

Filled with this hope and the glamor which new scenes and new

environment invariably throw over the unsophisticated mind, he wrote a

final letter, in which he suggested that Jennie should come at once.

This was when the baby was six months old. There were theaters here,

he said, and beautiful streets. Vessels from the lakes came into the

heart of the city. It was a wonderful city, and growing very fast. It

was thus that the new life appealed to him.

The effect which all this had upon Mrs. Gerhardt, Jennie, and the

rest of the family was phenomenal. Mrs. Gerhardt, long weighed upon by

the misery which Jennie's error had entailed, was for taking measures

for carrying out this plan at once. So buoyant was her natural

temperament that she was completely carried away by the glory of

Cleveland, and already saw fulfilled therein not only her own desires

for a nice home, but the prosperous advancement of her children. "Of

course they could get work," she said. Bass was right. She had always

wanted Gerhardt to go to some large city, but he would not. Now it was

necessary, and they would go and become better off than they ever had

been.

And Gerhardt did take this view of the situation. In answer to his

wife's letter he wrote that it was not advisable for him to leave his

place, but if Bass saw a way for them, it might be a good thing to go.

He was the more ready to acquiesce in the plan for the simple reason

that he was half distracted with the worry of supporting the family

and of paying the debts already outstanding. Every week he laid by

five dollars out of his salary, which he sent in the form of a postal

order to Mrs. Gerhardt. Three dollars he paid for board, and fifty

cents he kept for spending money, church dues, a little tobacco and

occasionally a glass of beer. Every week he put a dollar and a half in

a little iron bank against a rainy day. His room was a bare corner in

the topmost loft of the mill. To this he would ascend after sitting

alone on the doorstep of the mill in this lonely, foresaken

neighborhood, until nine o'clock of an evening; and here, amid the

odor of machinery wafted up from the floor below, by the light of a

single tallow candle, he would conclude his solitary day, reading his

German paper, folding his hands and thinking, kneeling by an open

window in the shadow of the night to say his prayers, and silently

stretching himself to rest. Long were the days, dreary the prospect.

Still he lifted his hands in utmost faith to God, praying that his

sins might be forgiven and that he might be vouchsafed a few more

years of comfort and of happy family life.

So the momentous question was finally decided. There was the

greatest longing and impatience among the children, and Mrs. Gerhardt

shared their emotions in a suppressed way. Jennie was to go first, as

Bass had suggested; later on they would all follow.

When the hour came for Jennie's departure there was great

excitement in the household.

"How long you going to be 'fore you send for us?" was Martha's

inquiry, several times repeated.

"Tell Bass to hurry up," said the eager George.

"I want to go to Cleveland, I want to go to Cleveland," Veronica

was caught singing to herself.

"Listen to her," exclaimed George, sarcastically.

"Aw, you hush up," was her displeased rejoinder.

When the final hour came, however, it required all of Jennie's

strength to go through with the farewells. Though everything was being

done in order to bring them together again under better conditions,

she could not help feeling depressed. Her little one, now six months

old, was being left behind. The great world was to her one

undiscovered bourne. It frightened her.

"You mustn't worry, Ma," she found courage enough to say. "I'll be

all right. I'll write you just as soon as I get there. It won't be so

very long."

But when it came to bending over her baby for the last time her

courage went out like a blown lamp. Stooping over the cradle in which

the little one was resting, she looked into its face with passionate,

motherly yearning.

"Is it going to be a good little girl?" she cooed.

Then she caught it up into her arms, and hugging it closely to her

neck and bosom, she buried her face against its little body. Mrs.

Gerhardt saw that she was trembling.

"Come now," she said, coaxingly, "you mustn't carry on so. She will

be all right with me. I'll take care of her. If you're going to act

this way, you'd better not try to go at all."

Jennie lifted her head, her blue eyes wet with tears, and handed

the little one to her mother.

"I can't help it," she said, half crying, half smiling.

Quickly she kissed her mother and the children; then she hurried

out.

As she went down the street with George she looked back and bravely

waved her hand. Mrs. Gerhardt responded, noticing how much more like a

woman she looked. It had been necessary to invest some of her money in

new clothes to wear on the train. She had selected a neat, ready-made

suit of brown, which fitted her nicely. She wore the skirt of this

with a white shirt-waist, and a sailor hat with a white veil wound

around it in such fashion that it could be easily drawn over her face.

As she went farther and farther away Mrs. Gerhardt followed her

lovingly with her glance; and when she disappeared from view she said

tenderly, through her own tears:

"I'm glad she looked so nice, anyhow."