charms.
++
I wish thee a night of repose,
A canopy of the wild rose,
Young May-bells to pillow thy head,
Sleep soft in thy flowery bed.

And where two lovers sit thus together, in the depth of the forest,
there streams from the mists arising heavenward, and from the murmuring
and rustling in the tree-tops, that same subtle enchantment and delight
which resounds in song, and is portrayed in fairy tales, where trees
and grass and wild beasts speak.

"Hark; there's a finch," said Anton. "Do you remember the story about
the finch?"

"No; tell it to me."

"Once a young man went through a field to visit his sweetheart, and the
finch called out: 'Wip! Wip!' (wife, wife.) 'That's just what I want,'
said the young man. As he was on his way home again the finch cried:
'Bethink you well. Bethink you well.' Now we, dear Thoma, have
bethought ourselves well. Fly on, finch, we don't need your help. 'Wip!
Wip!'"

"How tender you are!" said Thoma, smiling; then she shut her eyes, and
soon she was fast asleep. As Anton looked at her she seemed to become
more beautiful, but she must have gone to sleep with some willful
impulse in her mind, for her face had a strained expression.

From a little stone near by, some lizards looked with their bright,
knowing eyes at the slumberer and her guard. They shuffled noiselessly
away, and presently others came to see the wonder. Dragon-flies in
green and gold came flying through the air, brushed against each other,
and sped away. A gay butterfly lighted on Thoma's forehead, just at the
parting of her hair, and rested there like a diadem. On the highest
twig of the tree, a green finch perched. He turned his head, saw the
sleeping girl, and flew swiftly away. A cuckoo alighted from his
flight, and sounded his cry. Thoma awoke, and looked around bewildered.

"Good morning, my darling," said Anton, "you have been my betrothed
ever since yesterday."

"Have I slept very long?" asked she.

"No, not very, but surely you dreamt something strange. What was it?"

"I never tell dreams; I don't believe in them. Come, let us go home."

And so they started homeward.

CHAPTER XIII.

At the edge of the wood they saw "Cushion Kate," with her red kerchief
round her head, standing by a young man who sat by the roadside. She
offered him a pretzel, but he refused it.

"See," said Thoma, "that's 'Cushion Kate' with her