nelein.

This Hennelein had been the town bee-master, the chief of the
bee-keepers, who, then as now, had their business out in the
Lorenzer-Wald. His duties had been to hold an assize for the bee-keepers
three times in the year at a village called Feucht, and to lend an ear to
their complaints; and albeit he had fulfilled his office without blame,
he had dwelt in strife with his wife, and being given to rioting, he was
wont rather to go to the tavern than sit at table with his cross-grained
wife.

When he presently died there was but small leaving, and the widow in the
little house in the milk market had need to look twice at every farthing,
although she had not chick nor child. And whereas full half of the
offerings sent by the bee-keepers to help out their master's widow were
in honey, she strove to turn this to the best account, and to this end
she would by no means sell it to the dealers who would offer to take it,
but carried it herself in neat little crocks, one at a time, to the
houses of the rich folks, whereby her gains were much the greater.

Whereas her husband had been a member of the worshipful class of
magistrates, she deemed that such trading ill-beseemed her dignity; and
she at all times wore a great fur hat as large round as a cart-wheel of
fair size, and all the other array of a well-to-do housewife, though in
truth somewhat threadbare. Then she would offer her honey as a gift to
the mothers of children for their dear little ones; nor could she ever be
moved to name a price for her gift, inasmuch as it was not fitting that a
bee-master's widow should do so, while it was all to her honor when a
little bounty was offered as civil return.

Her honey was good enough, and the children were ever glad to see her:
all the more so for that they had their sport of her behind her back,
inasmuch as that she was a laughable little body, who had a trick of
repeating the last word of every sentence she spoke. Thus she would say
not: "Ah! here comes Kunz," but, "Here comes Kunz Kunz." Moreover, she
ever held her head between her two hands, tightly, as though with that
great fur cap her thin neck were in danger of breaking.

In this way she had dealings with most of our noble families; and the
young ones would call her not Hennelein, as her name was, but
Henneleinlein, in jest at her foolish trick of repeating her last word.

So long as I could remember, Mistress Henneleinlein had been wont to
bring honey to our