ve daughters, all straight, tall girls,
and even when they were children, stout and active. Schilder-David
always said, 'they are for the sea,' which meant emigrating to America;
and, indeed, four of his daughters are gone to America, two with their
husbands, and two unmarried, but they married there soon after their
arrival; one, died lately, but the other is well to do in the world,
and yet Schilder-David is constantly longing to see his children, and
often says--'That America is a new species of dragon that robs us of
our children.' The best thing he could do, would be to emigrate
himself, for his lot here is hard enough, but formerly he could not
make up his mind, and now it is impossible for him to go.

"His youngest daughter, Martina, was the especial pride of her father,
for she was always at the head of the school. You have no idea what a
character that gives a child in a village; a girl, especially, acquires
a certain degree of pride in consequence, and is respected by others,
and looked up to, even when her school years are over. She was a good,
clever child. When she came here to be prepared for her confirmation,
she always rubbed her shoes carefully on the mat, and persuaded the
other children to do the same, in order not to soil the stairs or the
rooms, and she and her companions insisted on sweeping out the church
themselves, before the day of Confirmation. When she stood before the
altar, she looked much older than her years; I never saw a prettier
creature, and piety encircled her head like a halo. She often came to
the parsonage to see us. My husband was particularly fond of the child,
and he told me that on the day after the confirmation he met Martina in
the fields, and she said that she felt now as if she had left her home;
and indeed, shortly afterwards she was sent away from her parents'
house. She was just sixteen when she entered into the service of the
Roettmanns. They give good wages, and must do so, because no one can
stay more than a year with that ill-tempered, fierce woman. Martina,
however, remained with them for two years,----"

The pastor's wife was interrupted in her narrative by a strange echo of
tinkling of bells in the village.

"What is that?" asked Edward.

"It is the troop of donkeys from the forest mill. The public road to
the mill is very broad, but the donkeys are conveying corn and flour
along the narrow footpaths, up and down the hills. I should like to
have sent a messag