at the same time because he was unhappy he was ten times as
exacting and peremptory and critical with the younger workmen,
and ten times as insolently independent with the young master.
Often enough, Lossing was exasperated to the point of taking
the old man at his word and telling him to go if he would,
but every time the chain of long habit, a real respect for such
faithful service, and a keen admiration for Kurt's matchless
skill in his craft, had held him back. He prided himself on
keeping his word; for that reason he was warier of using it.
So he would compromise by giving the domineering old fellow
a "good, stiff rowing." Once, he coupled this with a threat,
if they could not get along decently they would better part!
Lieders had answered not a word; he had given Lossing a queer
glance and turned on his heel. He went home and bought some
poison on the way. "The old man is gone and the young feller
don't want the old crank round, no more," he said to himself.
"Thekla, I guess I make her troubles, too; I'll git out!"

That was the beginning of his tampering with suicide.
Thekla, who did not have the same opinion of the "trouble,"
had interfered. He had married Thekla to have someone to keep
a warm fireside for him, but she was an ignorant creature
who never could be made to understand about carving. He felt
sorry for her when the baby died, the only child they ever had;
he was sorrier than he expected to be on his own account, too, for it
was an ugly little creature, only four days old, and very red
and wrinkled; but he never thought of confiding his own griefs
or trials to her. Now, it made him angry to have that stupid
Thekla keep him in a world where he did not wish to stay.
If the next day Lossing had not remembered how his father