THE FLYING MAIL

BY

M. GOLDSCHMIDT


From "The Flying Mail." Translated by Carl Larsen.




THE FLYING MAIL

BY

M. GOLDSCHMIDT


I.

Fritz Bagger had just been admitted to the bar. He had come home
and entered his room, seeking rest. All his mental faculties were
now relaxed after their recent exertion, and a long-restrained
power was awakened. He had reached a crisis in life: the future
lay before him,--the future, the future! What was it to be? He was
twenty-four years old, and could turn himself whichever way he
pleased, let fancy run to any line of the compass. Out upon the
horizon, he saw little rose-colored clouds, and nothing therein
but a certain undefined bliss. He put his hands over his eyes, and