on might one day become a great and
learned man, yet he persuaded her that it would be wrong to oppose the
earnest wishes of Hans who had always been a good, and dutiful, and
loving son; and so it was settled between them that henceforth a part of
the widow's savings were to pay for the labor which was required for the
field and garden, and that Hans was to come to the convent every day to
be taught by the monks to read and write.

Henceforward Hans was to be a scholar, and his joy indeed was great.

PART II.

THE BOOK.

We must pass quickly over several years of the time during which Hans
Gensfleisch was going through the tedious operation of learning to read
and write. We can all of us remember it to be tedious, but in those days
it was so even more than now; since there were no such things as
spelling books, and children's story books to help on the young scholar,
and the letters were not as plainly written, nor of such a simple form
as our English letters. Hans' reading and spelling book was, perhaps,
some musty old parchment manuscript, discolored by age; and he had to
pore over it whole hours and days, before he could make out the meaning
of a simple page. The monks who had to teach him, too, were not all of
them so patient and kind as Father Gottlieb, his uncle, whose duties in
the convent did not often allow him to be his young nephew's instructor;
and there were hours and days when Hans grew sadly wearied of the task
he had undertaken, and his resolution would waver and falter. Instead of
being shut up in that close cell in the convent, where the small and
high window allowed only a tiny piece of sky to be seen, and where fresh
air scarcely ever entered; how much pleasanter would it be, he often
thought, to be out and away on the hills with his bow, or armed with his
knife herb-gathering for his mother. His bright vision of being the one
who should make books in a new and quick method grew dim in his mind,
and other ways of living seemed better and happier. But then again, at
such times it would perhaps happen that his uncle would send for him to
his own cell, and would make him read to him that he might see his
improvement, and would praise him for his progress, and encourage him to
go on; so that Hans' very heart would glow within him, and fresh zeal
and courage come to him again, and he would go back to his work
refreshed, and pleased, and hopeful as before.

At times, too, it would happen tha