n busy at her washing full two hours longer, when in the
doorway of the sexton's house appeared a young fellow, whose figure,
almost as broad as it was long, filled the opening, with scarce anything
to spare. He tried to yawn, but there was not room enough to stretch his
arms, so he stepped outside for the purpose, and there he gaped so
heartily that all the inside of his big mouth and throat was distinctly
visible.

"There's nothing in it, Blasi! I've had a good look at it," cried Judith.
"If you had been here two hours ago, you might have seen a sight. A girl
with a whole mouthful of gold! What do you say to that?"

Blasi caught at this, and brought his jaws together with a snap.

"What! full of gold?" he exclaimed, and opened his sleepy eyes to their
utmost extent. "Why doesn't the foolish thing carry it in her pocket?
Where does she come from?"

"That's no concern of yours. You will never come up with her," replied
Judith.

"Tell me, for all that," urged Blasi, coming toward Judith, "I can go
after her, and I've no doubt I shall come up with her, and then there's no
telling what may happen. Come, where did she go, now? Do you know her
name?"

"Her name is Early Morn, Blasi," said Judith pleasantly. "Did you never
hear the saying, 'There's gold in the mouth of the early morn.'"

Blasi made a wry face and began in an angry tone,

"There's nothing very clever in that"--but just then he remembered that
when he came out of the house he had intended to come over and say
something quite different to Judith; so he changed his tone quickly, and
said,

"Can you lend me a franc or two; I have just time to do a little business
before eleven o'clock, and then I must be back to ring the noon bell; I
must try to help father, a little."

"No, no, Blasi, I have no francs for you," said Judith decidedly. "It
wants three hours yet of being eleven o'clock. Use those big arms of
yours, and they'll bring you francs enough." And so saying, she lifted her
clothes-basket on her head, and walked away.

Blasi stood looking after her, a moment, then he sauntered off, with both
hands in his pockets, up the road towards, the shoemaker's old house.
There sat Jost before the door, hammering away at something as if for dear
life. Blasi drew near, and stood watching the busy hands of his friend,
who presently cried out angrily,

"So it is holiday with you, is it, you lazy-bones? It is maddening to see
one fellow go wandering about wit