the nomads. She believed that a gipsy woman
who was angry at her had brought this sickness upon her. Nor was that
all: The gipsy woman had also cursed her, saying that all who took her
under their roof or were kind to her should suffer a like fate. She
believed this, and therefore begged them to cast her out of the house
and never to see her again. She did not want to bring misfortune down
upon such good people. But the peasants refused to do her bidding. It
was quite possible that they were alarmed, but they were not the kind of
folk who could turn out a poor, sick person.

Soon after that she died, and then along came the misfortunes. Before,
there had never been anything but happiness in that cabin. Its inmates
were poor, yet not so very poor. The father was a maker of weavers'
combs, and mother and children helped him with the work. Father made the
frames, mother and the older children did the binding, while the smaller
ones planed the teeth and cut them out. They worked from morning until
night, but the time passed pleasantly, especially when father talked of
the days when he travelled about in foreign lands and sold weavers'
combs. Father was so jolly that sometimes mother and the children would
laugh until their sides ached at his funny quips and jokes.

The weeks following the death of the poor vagabond woman lingered in the
minds of the children like a horrible nightmare. They knew not if the
time had been long or short, but they remembered that they were always
having funerals at home. One after another they lost their brothers and
sisters. At last it was very still and sad in the cabin.

The mother kept up some measure of courage, but the father was not a bit
like himself. He could no longer work nor jest, but sat from morning
till night, his head buried in his hands, and only brooded.

Once--that was after the third burial--the father had broken out into
wild talk, which frightened the children. He said that he could not
understand why such misfortunes should come upon them. They had done a
kindly thing in helping the sick woman. Could it be true, then, that the
evil in this world was more powerful than the good?

The mother tried to reason with him, but she was unable to soothe him.

A few days later the eldest was stricken. She had always been the
father's favourite, so when he realized that she, too, must go, he fled
from all the misery. The mother never said anything, but she thought it
was best for