n simple but well-considered words, he declared
that he was forced into waging this war.

Soon after that, I met Joseph, who was delighted to see me again. He
had engaged the guard of the stage-coach that passed by there every day
to fasten the "extra" papers to the tree, so that the forest laborers,
who at this point separated in order to repair to their different
villages, could know what was going on.

On the following day, the young Catholic pastor of the village had the
words of the heretical king removed from the tree on which the holy
image had been placed, and was about to lodge a complaint against
Joseph for his sacrilegious conduct. But, on the advice of a lawyer who
belonged to his own party, he desisted, and the tree, to this day, is
known as "the newspaper tree."

I crossed the boundary line and was in our own territory. The people
were busily employed in changing the bed of the stream; and the newly
married stone-mason asked me whether work would be continued during the
war. I told him that it would be, and that we intended to give
employment to the people as long as possible.

Shortly after that, I even employed the old spinner's two sons who had
been ordered out of Muehlhausen; and it was a very happy thought to do
so, as the younger of the two was an excellent cabinet-maker.

I walked on. All along the roadside I had planted pear-trees; they were
laden with fruit. Will the enemy pluck the fruit or destroy the trees?

I saw the young meadow-farmer. He was setting his water-gates, and
appeared as unconcerned as if we were living in peaceful times. When I
passed, he looked up from his work, and said, "The war does not affect
me, thank God. None of my kindred are in it."

The first house in the village belongs to the meadow-farmer. He had
relinquished the farm to his son, and was now living on a pension which
the latter had settled on him. When he saw me, he called out, "Now you
have it! The accursed Prussian is at the root of the whole affair; but
the Frenchman will give him a beating, for he has caught hold of the
wrong fellow this time."

At home all were in good spirits, and for the first time in a long
while, I found myself in some sort of sympathy with Johanna.

"It will soon be seen," she said, "whether the godless Frenchmen are as
willing to sacrifice themselves for their country as we are."

She praised the King as a God-fearing man; but to me he was simply a
righteous German.

A happy