will be our home, will it not? What is one's home called?"

"It is called the fatherland."

"Then every country is not one's fatherland?"

"If our enemies live there, it is not."

"What are enemies?"

"Persons with whom we are angry."

"What is angry? I have never yet seen anything like it. Why art thou
never angry?"

"Because I have no reason to be angry with thee, and I never associate
with any one else."

"What do those persons do who become angry with one another?"

"They avoid each other. If they are very angry they fight; and if they
are very, very angry they kill each other."

The maid was tortured with curiosity to-day. She drew a pin from her
robe, and secretly thrust the point into Ludwig's hand.

"What art thou doing?" he asked, in surprise.

"I want to see what thou art like when thou art angry. Did it hurt
thee?"

"Certainly it hurt me; see, the blood is flowing."

"Ah, heaven!" cried the maid, in terror, drew the young man's head
toward her, and pressed a kiss on his face.

He sprang to his feet, his face pale as death, extreme horror depicted
in his glance.

"There!" exclaimed the maid. "Thou dost not kill me, and yet I have made
thee very angry."

"This is not anger," sighed the young man.

"What is it, then?"

"It has no name."

"Then I may not kiss thee? Thou lettest me kiss thee last year, and the
year before, and every other year."

"But thou art fifteen years old to-day."

"Ah! Then what was allowed last year, and always before that, is not
allowed now. Dost not thou love me any more?"

"All my thoughts are filled with thee."

"Thou knowest that I have always been allowed to make one wish on my
birthday, and that it has always been granted. That is what some one
accustomed me to--thou knowest very well who."

"Thy desires have always been fulfilled."

"Yes; and children understand how to desire what is impossible. But
grown persons are clever enough to know how to impose on the children.
Three years ago I asked thee to bring me some one with whom I could
talk--some one who would be company for me. Thou broughtest me cats and
dogs and a bird! Two years ago I wished I might learn how to make
pictures; and I was given paper patterns to color with water-colors. One
year ago to-day I wished I might learn how to make music; and a
hand-organ was bought for me. Oh, yes; my wishes have always been
fulfilled, but always in a way that cheated me. Children are always
treated