ne out,
Eckbert took Walther's hand and said:

"Friend, you ought once to let my wife tell you the story of her
youth, which is indeed strange enough."

"Gladly," replied Walther, and they all sat down again around the
hearth. It was now exactly midnight, and the moon shone intermittently
through the passing clouds.

"You must forgive me," began Bertha, "but my husband says your
thoughts are so noble that it is not right to conceal anything from
you. Only you must not regard my story as a fairy-tale, no matter how
strange it may sound.

"I was born in a village, my father was a poor shepherd. The household
economy of my parents was on a humble plane--often they did not know
where they were going to get their bread. But what grieved me far more
than that was the fact that my father and mother often quarreled over
their poverty, and cast bitter reproaches at each other. Furthermore I
was constantly hearing about myself, that I was a simple, stupid
child, who could not perform even the most trifling task. And I was
indeed extremely awkward and clumsy; I let everything drop from my
hands, I learned neither to sew nor to spin, I could do nothing to
help about the house. The misery of my parents, however, I understood
extremely well. I often used to sit in the corner and fill my head
with notions--how I would help them if I should suddenly become rich,
how I would shower them with gold and silver and take delight in their
astonishment. Then I would see spirits come floating up, who would
reveal subterranean treasures to me or give me pebbles which afterward
turned into gems. In short, the most wonderful fantasies would occupy
my mind, and when I had to get up to help or carry something, I would
show myself far more awkward than ever, for the reason that my head
would be giddy with all these strange notions.

"My father was always very cross with me, because I was such an
absolutely useless burden on the household; so he often treated me
with great cruelty, and I seldom heard him say a kind word to me. Thus
it went along until I was about eight years old, when serious steps
were taken to get me to do and to learn something. My father believed
that it was sheer obstinacy and indolence on my part, so that I might
spend my days in idleness. Enough--he threatened me unspeakably, and
when this turned out to be of no avail, he chastised me most
barbarously, adding that this punishment was to be repeated every day
because I wa