ne may cultivate his
besetting sin there to his heart's content, if he can only find the
proper principality. What would have become of Florian had he not been
a son of that favored country? He could not have made a living out of
that which had first led to his ruin. Whenever this occurred to him, he
raised his voice, as if to encourage himself: his morsel of French
stood him in good stead,--for it is the most respectable dress for
immorality that was ever fashioned.

"_Messieurs, faites votre jeu!_" he would say. "Step up, step up: play
here, gentlemen. _Messieurs_, eight creutzers for one creutzer: one
creutzer has eight young ones. _La fortune_, _la fortune_, _la
fortune!_ A creutzer is nothing: out of nothing God made the world: out
of no money money will come. Step up, _Messieurs: faites votre jeu!_"

Often, when his tricks began to pall on the taste of the crowd, and he
found time to observe the young fellows dancing and making merry, a
two-edged sword would pierce his heart: he had been like them once, and
like the finest among them; and now he was a despised joker for the
amusement of others. To banish such thoughts, he would grow, more and
more extravagant in his sallies, and endeavor to persuade himself that
he was doing it all for his own edification.

Of four children, only two survived,--the oldest boy and a little girl.
Never would Florian suffer them to look at him when he drove his trade.
They were kept in a barn or a farmer's room, with the household goods
of the family.

Once only Crescence took courage to suggest that it might be for the
advantage of their children if they were to go home and try to support
themselves there by their daily labor.

"Don't talk of it," said Florian, gnashing his teeth: "ten horses
wouldn't drag me up the Horb steep again. I lost my honor there; and
never, never will I look at the Nordstetten steeple again!"

15.
A CHILD LOST AND A FATHER FOUND.

In Braunsbach by the Kocher, opposite Maerxle's house, is a
linden-tree, toward which a strolling family might have been seen
making their way one Sunday afternoon. The father--a powerful man, in a
blue smock and gray felt hat numerously indented--was drawing a cart
which contained a whetstone and some household-utensils. A gaunt, brown
dog, of middle size, was his yokefellow. The woman assisted in helping
the cart forward by pushing from behind. The two children f