dashed this pleasure
because he was returning poor and penniless. Home and the "Frau Mutter,"
as he reverently called her, had their hold upon his heart quite
distinct from every accident of fortune. To tell her of all he had seen
in far-away lands,--for Hanserl thought himself a great traveller; to
describe the great Cathedral of Worms, its vaulted aisles and painted
windows, its saintly effigies and deep-toned organ, and the thousands
who could kneel before the high altar! Then, what marvellous relics were
there to describe!--not to speak of the memorable valley at Eschgau,
where "Siegfried slew the Dragon." Poor Hans! the scenes of his youth
had made him young again, and it was the very triumph of his joy when he
could interest Nelly in some story, or make her listen with attention to
the rude verses of some "Tyroler" poem.

Gladly would we linger with them as they went slowly along through the
deep valley of Landech, and, halting a day at the Pontlatzer Bruecke,
that Hans might describe the heroic defence of his countrymen against
the French and Bavarian forces, and then, skirting along the Engadine,
came in sight of the great Orteler Spitze,--the highest of the Tyrol
Alps. And now they reached Nauders, and traversing a wild and dreary
mountain tract, where even in autumn the snow is seen in clefts and
crevices of the rock, they gradually gain the crest of the ridge, and
look down at length on glorious Meran with the devotion of the pilgrim
in sight of the Holy City. Hans knelt down and prayed fervently as his
eyes beheld that garden valley with its vine-clad slopes and waving
woods; its silvery river gliding along beneath bright villages and
feudal castles. But soon he saw them no longer, for his eyes swam over
with tears, and he sobbed like a child.

"There, Fraeulein, yonder, where you see the river winding to the
southward, you see an old tower,--'the Passayer Turm,' it is called; the
'Fraeu Mutter' lives there. I see some one in the garden." And, overcome
by emotion, he hid his face and wept.

Near as they seemed to the end of their journey, it was night ere they
gained the valley at the foot of the mountain. The cottages were closed,
and, except in the town--still about a mile distant--not a light was to
be seen. The Tyrolers are an early race, and retire to rest soon after
dusk. Hanserl, however, wanted no guidance to the way, and trudged along
in front of the cart, following each winding of the track as th