d behold
my own soul face to face.

*

There is a childhood of the soul and, with all her experience, the
grandmother possesses it. Oh, that I could gain that childlike feeling!
But have not those who seek it, forever lost it?

*

Old Jochem often brings his money to me, and makes me count it for him,
piece by piece. He maintains that one is so often cheated in money
matters.

My little pitchman told me that the peasants almost always treat their
aged parents who have given up their property to them, with great
unkindness, and then he asked me: "Why must Jochem live so long? He has
nothing in the world but hatred and mistrust." I know no answer.

Old Jochem is a veritable peasant Lear, but as he is able to complain
at the court of justice, and has actually done so, his case is not pure
tragedy.

But there is no court of justice at which a king can complain; nor does
he desire one; and hence his fate is great and tragic.

My friend, call me when thou standest in judgment upon thyself. I am
the only one who dare accuse thee, and yet I accuse not thee, but
myself. And I am expiating my guilt.

*

The open hearth-fire affords me many happy moments. How beautiful a
fire is! What are all jewels, compared with it? Poor old Jochem cannot
see the fire. It is the most beautiful thing in every house-- Men
should be fire-worshipers.

"You've had good thoughts," said Hansei to me, when I was sitting by
the open window to-day. "I could tell it by your looks."

He evidently longed to put a question to me, but he is determined to
keep his resolution. He never asks me anything and, to avoid doing so
often changes the form of his sentences. I told him my thoughts, and
his manner seemed to imply: "It isn't worth while to think of such
things."

"Yes," said Hansei at last, "that's true enough. When one sits by the
fire, his thoughts will roam."

To Hansei's notion, nothing in the world is so objectionable as taking
a walk. He cannot conceive why one should roam about, where there is
nothing to seek and nothing to do, and why, under such circumstances,
one would not rather lie down on the long bench and go to sleep.

*

When I think of good Kent, I always imagine him as having a rich, full
voice, like that of Bronnen, whom, in his youth, he must have
resembled.

Certain figures p