about? However, I did not mean to say anything bad of Thoma."

"That you can never do, father. There is one thing about her that will
please you especially; an untruth has never escaped her lips, and never
will."

"The world doesn't set much store by that now, but it's a great thing,
after all. But enough of this. You are a man that can be master. I have
only said this that your mind might be prepared. Enough now. It is a
glorious day, thank God!"

"Yes, glorious indeed," replied Anton; but he did not mean the weather,
for to-day was to take place, at the spring fair in the city, the
betrothal of the miller's son, Anton, with Thoma (Thomasia), the
daughter of the farmer and former bailiff, Landolin of Reutershoefen.

CHAPTER II.

High up on the plateau lie Landolin's broad acres. The buildings stand
by themselves, for the farm-houses of the borough are scattered miles
apart over the hill-sides. Only the dwelling-house, with its shingled
roof, faces the road; its various outbuildings lie back of it, around
an open square, and the pastures and fields extend up the steep
hill-side to the beech wood, whose brown buds are glistening with the
morning dew.

It is still early in the morning; no sound is heard in the farm-yard,
save the noisy splashing of the broad rivulet from the spring. A roof
extends far over the water, for in the winter the cattle are brought
there to drink. Near by are heaps of paving stones, with which a new
drain is to be built through the yard.

Gradually the larks began their songs high in the air; the sparrows on
the roof twittered; the cows lowed; the horses rattled their halters;
the doves began cooing; the chickens on their roost and the pigs in
their pens all awoke and gave signs of comfort or discomfort. The huge
watch-dog, whose head lay on the threshold of his kennel, lazily opened
his eyes now and then, and closed them again as though he would say,
"What strange sounds; what do they all amount to, compared with a
hearty bark! That's, after all, the most beautiful and sensible noise
in the world, for dogs of my rank never bark without good reason."

The first person who came through the yard was the farmer's stately
wife, well dressed, and still in her prime. It is a well-ordered
household where the master or mistress is the first awake.

The farmer's wife was a quiet woman, such a one as is called a "genuine
farmer's wife;" not much more than thi