eaming through the window-panes and upon
the pictures on the wall; and as the bright band of light passed slowly
onward the old man followed it involuntarily with his eyes.

Now it reached a little picture in a simple black frame. "Elisabeth!"
said the old man softly; and as he uttered the word, time had changed:
_he was young again_.

* * * * *

THE CHILDREN

Before very long the dainty form of a little maiden advanced toward
him. Her name was Elisabeth, and she might have been five years old.
He himself was twice that age. Round her neck she wore a red silk
kerchief which was very becoming to her brown eyes.

"Reinhard!" she cried, "we have a holiday, a holiday! No school the
whole day and none to-morrow either!"

Reinhard was carrying his slate under his arm, but he flung it behind
the front door, and then both the children ran through the house into
the garden and through the garden gate out into the meadow. The
unexpected holiday came to them at a most happily opportune moment.

It was in the meadow that Reinhard, with Elisabeth's help, had built a
house out of sods of grass. They meant to live in it during the summer
evenings; but it still wanted a bench. He set to work at once; nails,
hammer, and the necessary boards were already to hand.

While he was thus engaged, Elisabeth went along the dyke, gathering
the ring-shaped seeds of the wild mallow in her apron, with the object
of making herself chains and necklaces out of them; so that when
Reinhard had at last finished his bench in spite of many a crookedly
hammered nail, and came out into the sunlight again, she was already
wandering far away at the other end of the meadow.

"Elisabeth!" he called, "Elisabeth!" and then she came, her hair
streaming behind her.

"Come here," he said; "our house is finished now. Why, you have got
quite hot! Come in, and let us sit on the new bench. I will tell you a
story."

So they both went in and sat down on the new bench. Elisabeth took the
little seed-rings out of her apron and strung them on long threads.
Reinhard began his tale: "There were once upon a time three
spinning-women..."[1]

[1] The beginning of one of the best known of Grimm's fairy tales.

"Oh!" said Elisabeth, "I know that off by heart; you really must not
always tell me the same story."

Accordingly Reinhard had to give up the story of the three
spinning-women and tell instead the story of the poor ma