falling fast on the
threads as she drew them out. It was Franzl; she had heard the report,
that Lenz and his family were buried in the snow: even from Knuslingen,
people had hurried to the rescue. Franzl would gladly have gone with
them to help if she could, but her tottering limbs could not bear her
thither, and unluckily she had lent her only pair of shoes to a poor
woman, who was obliged to go to the Doctor. In the midst of all her
distress, Franzl often struck her forehead and thought: "Oh! how stupid
I was not to observe when he was here, that something was wrong; but
what use is that now? I had it on the tip of my tongue that day, to beg
him to take timely precautions against the snow. We were twice snowed
up, for a day and a half: every winter we tried to guard against it.
But it's too late to think of that now; my old mistress was right, when
she said a hundred times over: 'Franzl, you can speak sensibly; but
always an hour too late to be of any use.'"

The ravens, who were now flying past, could have told Franzl that she
might dry her tears, as the buried alive were rescued; but men do not
understand ravens, and human beings are some time before they can carry
good news over hill and valley.

It was evening when a sledge came driving along, with a cheerful
ringing of bells. What does the sledge come here for, and stop at this
door?--there is no one at home but old Franzl.

"Who is getting out, is it not Pilgrim?" Franzl wishes to rise to meet
him, but she is unable to stir.

"Franzl, I have come to fetch you;" cried Pilgrim. Franzl rubbed her
eyes: "Is it a dream? what does it mean?" Pilgrim continued: "Lenz is
saved, and all belonging to him, and I have been sent to fetch your
fair Princess Cinderella! Will you entrust your precious person to my
care in the sledge?"

"I have not a single pair of shoes to put on," said Franzl at last.

"I will lend you a pair of fur boots, I have below; they are sure to
fit your small feet, Princess," answered Pilgrim. "And here is the
skin--I mean the fur cloak of Petrowitsch the sorcerer. You must come
with me this very moment, my well-beloved Franzl of Knuslingen! You
must cease spinning your magic threads, and leave your magic wheel
here; unless it thinks fit to walk after us on its wooden legs." So
saying, Pilgrim bowed to Franzl and offered her his arm, as if to lead
her to a banquet.

Franzl was utterly confounded. Luckily her sister-in-law came home at
this mom