tle girl?" "I can't think of any one. I'm afraid that we
must take her to the town to Kurz. Mrs. Kurz is an excellent woman, and
he, well he is a good hand at a bargain like all tradesmen. Only think,
he sold me a pair of trousers last year. I wanted them for Sundays--they
were a sort of chocolate color: well listen: the first morning I put
them on, I went through the clover-field, and when I came out of it, my
trousers were as red as lobsters, as high as the knee--bright scarlet I
assure you. And then he sent me some kuemmel, it was Prussian made,
wretched sweet stuff, and very bad. I returned it, and told him a bit
of my mind. But he won't take the trousers back, and tells me he never
wore them. Does the fellow imagine that _I_ will wear red trousers?
Look, Charles, that's Guerlitz down there to the left." "And that, I
suppose, is Guerlitz church-steeple?" asked Hawermann. "Yes!" said
Braesig, raising his eye-brows till they were hidden by the brim of his
hat--he always wore a hat on Sunday--and opening his mouth as wide as he
could, he stared at Hawermann as if he wanted to look him through and
through. "Charles," he exclaimed, "you spoke of Guerlitz church-steeple,
and as sure as your nose is in the middle of your face the parson at
Guerlitz must take your child." "Parson Behrens?" asked Hawermann. "Yes,
the same Parson Behrens who taught you and me at old Knirkstaedt." "Ah,
Braesig, I was just wishing last night that such a thing were possible."
"Possible? He must do it. It would be the best thing in the world for
him to have a little child toddling about his knees, and growing up
under his care, for he has no children of his own, has let all the glebe
land, and has nothing whatever to do but to read his books and study,
till any other man would see green and yellow specks dancing before his
eyes even with looking at him from a distance. It would be a capital
thing for him, and Mrs. Behrens is so fond of children that the little
ones in the village cling to her skirts whenever she goes there. She is
also a most excellent worthy woman, and so cheerful that she and your
sister get on capitally together."

"If it could only be," cried Hawermann. "What do we not both owe that
man, Zachariah, don't you remember that when he was assistant to the
clergyman at Knirkstaedt, he held an evening class during the winter, and
taught reading and writing, and how kind he always was to us stupid
boys?" "Yes, Charles, and how Samuel