t expressly removed by legislation, and because he thought it
a mark of culture, interrupted the story with "Stuff! What do you talk
of such brainless superstition for? Don't let every silly old peasant
cram your heads with her nonsense. I have told you ever so often that
there are no devils and no saints. The saints may pass, but not the
devils, nor the witches."

Ivo trembled. It stung him to the soul to hear his mother spoken of in
that manner and with such irreverence. He wished he had never dreamed
of this great company. He hated the judge cordially, and eyed him with
looks of fury. Of course the great man had no perception of the
disgrace into which he had fallen. He waxed exceedingly condescending
to the new councilmen, who were so charmed with his goodness that their
organs of speech seemed to have lost every check-spring.

To Ivo's relief, the "gentlemen" at last departed, leaving him to
comfort himself with the reflection that he had not bid the judge
"Good-night."

7.
THE CONVENT.

Years glided by almost imperceptibly. Constantine and Peter had passed
their examination in autumn, and were now destined to enter the convent
at Rottweil. An event, however, which formed the theme of conversation
for a long time to come, detained Peter at the village.

The second crop of grass had been mowed in the garden of the
manor-house; the daisy--called here the wanton-flower because it
presents itself so shamelessly without any drapery of leaves--stood
solitary on the frost-covered sward; the cows browsed untethered; and
the children gambolled here and there and assailed with sticks and
stones the few scattered apples and pears which had been forgotten on
the trees.

Peter sat on the butter-pear tree by the wall of the manor-house, near
the corner turret. A bright golden pear was the goal of his ambition.
Constantine, the marplot, wished to snatch the prize out of his grasp,
and threw a stone at it. Suddenly Peter cried, "My eye! my eye!" and
fell from the tree with the limb on which he had been sitting. The
blood gushed from his eye, while Constantine stood beside him, crying
and calling aloud for help.

Maurice the cowherd came running up. He saw the bleeding boy, took him
on his shoulder, and carried him home. Constantine followed, and all
the children brought up the rear. The train increased until they
reached Hansgeorge's house: the latter wa