"She died very soon; I had thought she would live much longer. The
day before her death I went to see her for the last time, just before
sunset. I think she recognized me, for she pressed my hand.

"Next morning they came and told me that Marie was dead. The children
could not be restrained now; they went and covered her coffin with
flowers, and put a wreath of lovely blossoms on her head. The pastor did
not throw any more shameful words at the poor dead woman; but there were
very few people at the funeral. However, when it came to carrying the
coffin, all the children rushed up, to carry it themselves. Of course
they could not do it alone, but they insisted on helping, and walked
alongside and behind, crying.

"They have planted roses all round her grave, and every year they look
alter the flowers and make Marie's resting-place as beautiful as they
can. I was in ill odour after all this with the parents of the children,
and especially with the parson and schoolmaster. Schneider was obliged
to promise that I should not meet them and talk to them; but we
conversed from a distance by signs, and they used to write me sweet
little notes. Afterwards I came closer than ever to those little souls,
but even then it was very dear to me, to have them so fond of me.

"Schneider said that I did the children great harm by my pernicious
'system'; what nonsense that was! And what did he mean by my system?
He said afterwards that he believed I was a child myself--just before
I came away. 'You have the form and face of an adult' he said, 'but as
regards soul, and character, and perhaps even intelligence, you are a
child in the completest sense of the word, and always will be, if you
live to be sixty.' I laughed very much, for of course that is nonsense.
But it is a fact that I do not care to be among grown-up people and
much prefer the society of children. However kind people may be to me, I
never feel quite at home with them, and am always glad to get back to
my little companions. Now my companions have always been children, not
because I was a child myself once, but because young things attract
me. On one of the first days of my stay in Switzerland, I was strolling
about alone and miserable, when I came upon the children rushing noisily
out of school, with their slates and bags, and books, their games, their
laughter and shouts--and my soul went out to them. I stopped and laughed
happily as I watched their little feet moving so qui