Thekla Lieders rather staggered than walked into the room and fell
back on the black haircloth sofa.

"There, there, there," said the young woman while she patted the broad
shoulders heaving between sobs and short breath, "what is it?
The house aint afire?"

"Oh, no, oh, Mrs. Olsen, he has done it again!" She wailed in sobs,
like a child.

"Done it? Done what?" exclaimed Mrs. Olsen, then her face paled.
"Oh, my gracious, you DON'T mean he's killed himself ------"

"Yes, he's killed himself, again."

"And he's dead?" asked the other in an awed tone.

Mrs. Lieders gulped down her tears. "Oh, not so bad as that,
I cut him down, he was up in the garret and I sus--suspected him
and I run up and--oh, he was there, a choking, and he was so mad!
He swore at me and--he kicked me when I--I says: 'Kurt, what are you
doing of? Hold on till I git a knife,' I says--for his hands was
just dangling at his side; and he says nottings cause he couldn't,
he was most gone, and I knowed I wouldn't have time to git
no knife but I saw it was a rope was pretty bad worn and so--
so I just run and jumped and ketched it in my hands, and being I'm
so fleshy it couldn't stand no more and it broke! And, oh! he--
he kicked me when I was try to come near to git the rope off his neck;
and so soon like he could git his breath he swore at me ----"