pied a higher position. This was her great
misfortune.

2.

It is a great mistake to suppose that in the country people, may live
alone and undisturbed. Such a thing is only possible in a large city,
where men take no interest in each others' affairs, where one man may
meet the other daily for years, and never think of inquiring who he is
or what he does; where you pass a human being without a greeting or
even a look, just as if he were a stone. In the country, where
everybody knows everybody, each one is compelled to account to all the
others' for what he does: no one can rest content with the approbation
of his own judgment. In the Black Forest the passing word of
recognition varies with the direction of your steps. If you are going
down hill, the passer-by inquires, "'You going down there?" If you are
ascending, "'You going up there?" If he finds you loading a wagon, he
says, "Don't load too heavy," or, "Don't work too hard." If you are
sitting before your door or on a stile, it is, "'You resting a little?"
If two are talking, the third man who passes by says, "Good counsel,
neighbors?" and so on.

There is a charm in this communion of work and rest, word and thought;
but the custom has its drawbacks. Any one having good or bad reasons of
his own for disposing of his time in a manner different from what is
customary has to contend against the gossip and the jibes and mockery
of all. An old bachelor or an old maid are in particular the butts of
this sort of street-raillery, whether it be from poverty or any other
motive that they cling to their single condition.

The more Vefela approached the sombre years of old-maidenhood, the more
was the "manor-house lady" persecuted by this sort of fun. One Sunday,
as she walked through the village, a crowd of young men were standing
before the town-hall, and "Tralla," the butt of the village,--a poor
simpleton who was half dumb,--stood near them. When they saw Vefela,
one of them cried, "Tralla, there comes your sweetheart." Tralla
grinned from ear to ear. They urged him on to take his sweetheart by
the arm. Poor Vefela heard them, and almost sank to the ground with
shame and vexation. Already had Tralla hobbled up and taken her arm,
with his brutal features distorted with fun. Vefela raised her eyes to
the young fellows with a look so full of entreaty and reproach that one
of them was actually induced to take her part. What he said was n