r stir from the spot." Thus
charming and delightful, although not a castle, was Baron von Brakel's
house.

VISITORS OF DISTINCTION.

Madame von Brakel got up very early one morning, and baked a cake, into
which she put a great many more almonds and raisins than even into her
Easter cake, for which reason it had a much more delicious odour than
that one itself had. While this was in progress, the Baron von Brakel
thoroughly dusted and brushed his green coat and his red waistcoat, and
Felix and Christlieb were dressed in the very best clothes they
possessed. The Baron said to them: "You mustn't run about in the wood
to-day, as you generally do, but sit still in the room, that you may
look neat and nice when your distinguished uncle comes!"

The sun had emerged, bright and smiling, from the clouds, and was
darting golden beams in at the window; out in the wood the morning
breeze blew fresh, and the finch, the siskin, and the nightingale were
all pouring out their hearts in joy, and warbling the loveliest songs
in chorus. Christlieb was sitting silent, deep in thought, at the
table, now and then smoothing and arranging the bow of her pink sash,
now and then industriously striving to go on with her knitting, which,
somehow, would by no means answer that morning. Felix, into whose hands
papa had put a fine picture-book, looked away over the tops of the
pages towards the beautiful Birchwood, where, every other morning but
this, he might jump about for an hour or two to his heart's content.
"Oh! isn't it jolly out there!" sighed he to himself; and when, in
addition, the big yard-dog, Sultan by name, came barking and bounding
before the window, dashing away a short distance in the direction of
the wood, coming back again, and barking and growling afresh, as if he
were saying to Felix, "Aren't you coming to the wood to-day? What on
earth are you doing in that stuffy room?" Felix couldn't contain
himself for impatience. "Oh, darling mamma, do just let me go out, only
for a little!" he cried; but Madame von Brakel answered, "No, no, stay
in the room, like a good boy. I know very well how it will be; if you
go, Christlieb must go too, and then away you'll both scamper, helter
skelter, through brush and briar, up into the trees. And then, back
you'll come, all hot and smirched, and your uncle will say, 'What ugly
country children are these? I am sure no Brakels, be they big or
little, can ever be like tha