any types to study and interests to follow,
and betrays a want of perspective in its construction. But in spite of
all its defects it is a novel that should not be forgotten. For
reflective readers it will always hold a charm, and its latent strength
is proved by its triumph over its own faults.

THE FIRST MASS

From "Ivo the Gentleman," in "Black Forest Village Stories"

One Saturday afternoon the busy sound of hammer and adze was heard on
the green hill-top which served the good folks of Nordstetten as their
open-air gathering-place. Valentine the carpenter, with his two sons,
was making a scaffolding, designed to serve no less a purpose than that
of an altar and a pulpit. Gregory, the son of Christian the tailor, was
to officiate at his first mass and preach his first sermon.

Ivo, Valentine's youngest son, a child of six years of age, assisted his
father with a mien which betokened that he considered his services
indispensable. With his bare head and feet he ran up and down the
timbers as nimbly as a squirrel. When a beam was being lifted, he cried,
"Pry under!" as lustily as any one, put his shoulder to the crowbar, and
puffed as if nine-tenths of the weight fell upon him. Valentine liked to
see his little boy employed. He would tell him to wind the twine on the
reel, to carry the tools where they were wanted, or to rake the chips
into a heap. Ivo obeyed all these directions with the zeal and devotion
of a self-sacrificing patriot. Once, when he perched upon the end of a
plank for the purpose of weighing it down, the motion of the saw shook
his every limb, and made him laugh aloud in spite of himself; he would
have fallen off but for the eagerness with which he held on to his
position and endeavored to perform his task in the most
workmanlike manner.

At last the scaffolding was finished. Lewis the saddler was ready to
nail down the carpets and hanging. Ivo offered to help him too; but
being gruffly repelled, he sat down upon his heap of chips, and looked
at the mountains, behind which the sun was setting in a sea of fire. His
father's whistle aroused him, and he ran to his side.

"Father," said Ivo, "I wish I was in Hochdorf."

"Why?"

"Because it's so near to heaven, and I should like to climb up once."

"You silly boy, it only seems as if heaven began there. From Hochdorf it
is a long way to Stuttgart, and from there it is a long way to
heaven yet.

"How long?"

"Well, you can't get there until y