I caught the meadow farmer stealing the
water. He feared the French, and yet he tried to rob his neighbors.

Martha, when she heard of this, thought that his love for his meadows
might excuse this wickedness; but my daughter-in-law reproved her with
a severity which I had never observed before. She looked upon such
trespassing as being a most serious matter; for the growth of all that
belongs to us out of doors depends on public confidence.

Alas! how we cared for such little matters, while such great affairs
were being settled yonder. The French might come upon us at any moment.
But it is always thus. You stoop to pick a strawberry, and do not
notice the mountain range. Why, as I was walking through the woods I
was delighted at the prospect of a good crop of huckleberries. This is
of importance to the poor people; for the productions which those who
are better off do not care to cultivate, furnish food for the poor.

On the evening of the 1st of August, I was again on top of the
Hochspitz Mountain, where Wolfgang had been with me the last time. The
whole valley of the Rhine was bathed in the glow of the setting sun,
which filled the air like a golden stream, and beyond lay the blue
Vosges Mountains.

What is going on there? Will the French soon be here, killing and
burning as they go?

To protect the pine-tree seeds against the birds, Wolfgang had placed
brushwood over the spot on which he had sowed them. This had already
become dry, and the leaves, therefore, covered the ground from which
the young plants were starting.

On my way home I could hear the murmur of the brook below; and
everything was so still, that I could even hear the noise made by the
fountain in front of my house. Sometimes the shrill sound of the
saw-mill would be carried up to me by the breeze. The grain-fields were
in bloom; a nourishing haze lay upon them; the forest-trees were
silently growing; the sun shone so clear by day; the moon was so bright
by night. We seemed to be separated from that world in which a dreadful
slaughter was just beginning.

The next morning I looked from out my quiet home, into the far
distance. It had rained during the night. Everything was cooled off,
the sun shone brightly, and the air from the fields was most
refreshing. We had brought in our hay the day before, and the
thunder-storm during the night had nourished the meadows. It seemed as
if the myriads of refreshed plants joyfully gave token of new vigor.