heir child dripping in blood. Old Ursula, who
knew so many remedies, was sent for immediately. She had no sooner cast
eyes on the wound than she declared, "This may end in a cancer, or else
the person who did it must clean the wound with his tongue." But Tony
protested vehemently that she would rather die than ever let Sepper
touch her again.

Various remedies were applied, and Tony groaned as if she were at the
point of death.

The story spread through the village like wildfire; and it was even
said that Sepper had taken a piece of flesh out of Tony's cheek.
Everybody came to comfort her and to find out all about it. Sepper came
too; but Tony screamed like a maniac, and declared he must leave the
house at once and never come back. All his prayers and tears availed
nothing: Tony seemed to be really beside herself, and Sepper had to go.
He went to Babbett and begged her to say a good word for him. Babbett
was busy arranging the wedding-gifts: kitchen-furniture, and all sorts
of utensils, lay scattered about. She scolded Sepper roundly, but left
her work at once and hastened to Tony. The latter fell upon her
playmate's neck and cried, "I am spoiled for all the days of my life!"
After a great deal of coaxing, she consented to rise from her bed; but,
when she stood before the looking-glass and saw the horrible
devastation, she exclaimed, "Jesus! Maria! Joseph! why, I am just like
Flambeau Mary Ann! Oh God! I'm sure I must have sinned against her: I
am punished hard enough!"

On no condition would she hear of seeing Sepper again; so the poor
fellow had to trudge off to Stuttgard in a day or two, with a little
white linen knapsack on his back, and a heavy, heavy load on his heart.

It was two weeks before Tony left the house, and then she kept her face
well tied up. She walked out with a hoe on her shoulder to dig
potatoes; and, strange to say, almost the first person she met was the
gamekeeper.

"How are you, pretty Tony?" he asked, almost tenderly.

She could have sunk into the earth with shame, it seemed so strange for
him to call her by name, and say "pretty" besides; and she felt more
keenly than ever how much she was disfigured. As she sighed and said
nothing, the gamekeeper went on:--"I have heard of what has happened:
won't you let me see it?"

She bashfully pushed the kerchief aside, and the gamekeeper
involuntarily raised his hands to his own face and said, "It is horrid,
it is inhuman, to act so to a sweet