ke seriously to the shepherd--he is from our part of the country--and
they both resolved that they would not allow the steward to sell any
more away. And so my husband told him. But weeks passed, and no one
came. We sent every day to the village to inquire, and my husband went
to Rosmin and saw the lawyer. But it seemed they were not coming after
all, and that the estate would be sold again. Then, a fortnight ago, the
steward came over with a strange butcher, and wanted my husband to give
him the wethers; but he refused. At that they threatened him, and wanted
to force their way into the sheep-pens; but the shepherd and my husband
were too much for them; so off they went cursing, and declaring they
would have the sheep yet. Since then a man has watched every night;
there hangs a loaded gun which we have borrowed; and when the shepherd's
dog barks, I get up, and am dreadfully frightened about my husband and
child. There are dangerous men about here, sir, and that you will find."

"I hope things will improve," said Anton; "you lead a solitary life
here."

"It is solitary indeed," said the woman, "for we hardly ever go to the
village, and only sometimes on Sunday to the German village, where we go
to church. But there is always something to be done about the house;
and," continued she, somewhat embarrassed, "I will just tell you all,
and if you don't approve, we can give it up. I have dug a little space
behind the barn, we have hedged it in, and made a garden of it, where I
grow what I want for cooking; and then," with increased embarrassment,
"there are the poultry and a dozen ducks; and if you won't be angry, the
geese on the stubble-fields, and," wiping her eyes with her apron,
"there is the cow and the calf."

"Our calf!" cried the child, in ecstasy, slapping Anton's knees with his
fat hands.

"If you do not approve of my having kept the cow for myself," continued
the weeping woman, "we will give it up. My husband and the shepherd have
had no wages since the last wool-shearing, and we have been obliged to
buy necessaries; but my husband has kept an account of every thing, and
he will show it you, that you may see that we are not dishonest people."

"I hope it will so appear," replied Anton, soothingly; "and now let us
have a look at your garden; you shall keep it, if possible."

"There is not much in it," said the woman, leading them to the inclosed
space where the beds were all prepared for their winter's rest. S