ith a hard, firm tone, as though resolved not to be conquered by his
emotion.

"The cholera was dreadfully severe all through the Italian Tyrol; it
swept from Venice to Milan, and never missed even the mountain villages,
far away up the Alps. In our little hamlet we lost one hundred and
eighteen souls, and my Gretchen was one of them.

"We had all grown to be very hard-hearted to each other; misfortune was
at each man's door, and he had no heart to spare for a neighbor's
grief; and yet such was the sorrow for her, that they came, in all this
suffering and desolation, to try and comfort and keep me up, and though
it was a time when all such cares were forgotten, the young people went
and laid fresh flowers over her grave every morning. Well, that was
very kind of them, and made me weep heartily; and, in weeping, my heart
softened, and I got to feel that God knew what was best for all of us,
and that, may-bap, he had taken her away to spare her greater sorrow
hereafter, and left me to learn that I should pray to go to her. She
had only been in the earth eight days, and I was sitting alone in my
solitary house, for I could not bear to open the shop, and began to
think that I *d never have the courage to do so again, but would go away
and try some other place and some other means of livelihood,--it was
while thinking thus, a sharp, loud knock came to the door, and I arose
rather angrily, to answer it.

"It was a sergeant of an infantry regiment, whose detachment was on
march for Peschiera; there were troubles down there, and the Government
had to send off three regiments in all haste from Vienna to suppress
them. The sergeant was a Bohemian, and his regiment the Kinsky. He was
a rough, coarse fellow, very full of his authority, despising all
villagers, and holding Italians in especial contempt. He came to order
me to prepare rations and room for six soldiers, who were to arrive that
evening. I answered, boldly, that I would not I had served the office of
syndic in the town, and was thus forever exempt from the 'billet,' and I
led him into my little sitting-room, and showed him my 'brevet,'
framed and glazed, over the chimney. He laughed heartily at my little
remonstrance, coolly turned the 'brevet' with its face to the wall, and
said,--

"'If you don't want twelve of us instead of six, you 'll keep your
tongue quiet, and give us a stoup of your best wine.'

"I did not wait to answer him, but seized my hat and hurried a