search in his carriage; he found all manner of clothes, as fine as he
could wish them, but no money. At last he came upon a pocket which
contained many thousand thalers in gold, and drafts on bankers in all
the large cities. "Now it's all just as I wanted it," thought he; and
settling himself comfortably in a corner of the carriage, he journeyed
out into the wide world.

He traveled for two years about the world, looking out from his
carriage to the right and left at the buildings he passed by; and when
he entered a city he looked out only for the sign of the tavern. After
dinner he would be driven about the town, and have the sights pointed
out to him. But neither picture, house, music, dancing, nor any thing
else, rejoiced him. His heart of stone could not feel an interest in
any thing, and his eyes and ears were dulled to all that was beautiful.
No pleasures remained to him but those of eating, drinking and
sleeping. Now and then, it is true, he recalled the fact, that he had
been happier when he was poor and worked for his own support. Then
every beautiful view in the valley, the sound of music and song, had
rejoiced him; then he had been satisfied with the simple fare that his
mother had prepared and brought out to his fires. When he thus thought
of the past, it seemed very singular to him that he could not laugh at
all now, while then every little jest had amused him. When others
laughed, he simply affected to do the same as a mere matter of
politeness; but his heart did not join in the merriment. He felt then
that although he was destitute of emotion, yet he was far from being
contented. It was not homesickness or melancholy, but dullness,
weariness, and a joyless life, that finally drove him back to his
native place.

As he passed by Strasbourg and saw the dark forest in the distance, as
he once more saw the strong forms and honest, faithful faces of the
inhabitants of the Black Forest, as his ear caught the strong, deep,
well-remembered tones of his countrymen's voices, he put his hand
quickly to his heart, for his blood danced through his veins, and he
thought he should both weep and rejoice; but--how could he be so
foolish?--he had only a heart of stone, and stones are without feeling,
and neither laugh nor weep.

His first visit was to Dutch Michel, who received him with much show of
friendliness. "Michel," said Peter, "I have travelled and have seen
every thing, but experienced only weariness. Upon the w