ocent and so pleasing a delusion,
and he gave no further opposition; and now they both descended the
path which led to the little inn of the village. Here Hans insisted on
performing the part of host, and soon the table was covered with brown
bread and hard eggs, and those great massive sausages which Germans
love, together with various flasks of Margrafler and other "Badisch"
wines.

"Who knows," said Hans, as he pledged his guest by ringing his
wine-glass against the other's, "if, when we meet again, thou wouldst
sit down at the table with such as me?"

"How so, Hanserl?" asked the boy, in astonishment.

"I mean, Master Franz, that you may become a colonel, or perhaps a
general, with, mayhap, the 'St. Joseph' at your button-hole, or the
'Maria Teresa' around your neck; and if so, how could you take your
place at the board with the poor toy-maker?"

"I am not ashamed to do so now," said Frank, haughtily; "and the Emperor
cannot make me more a gentleman than my birth has done. Were I to be
ashamed of those who befriended me, I should both disgrace my rank and
name together."

"These are good words, albeit too proud ones," said Hans, thoughtfully.
"As a guide through life, pride will do well enough when the roads are
good and your equipage costly; but when you come upon mountain-paths and
stony tracts, with many a wild torrent to cross, and many a dark glen to
traverse, humility even a child's humility will give better teaching."

"I have no right to be other than humble!" said the boy; but the
flashing brightness of his eyes, and the heightened color of his cheek,
seemed to contradict his words.

For a while the conversation flagged, or was maintained in short and
broken sentences, when at length Frank said,

"You will often go to see them, Hanserl, won't you? You'll sit with
them, too, of an evening? for they will feel lonely now; and my father
will like to tell you his stories about home, as he calls it still."

"That will I," said Hans; "they are the happiest hours of my life when I
sit beside that hearth."

Frank drew his hand across his eyes, and his lips quivered as he tried
to speak.

"You'll be kind to poor Ellen, too; she is so timid, Hans. You cannot
believe how anxious she is, lest her little carvings should be thought
unworthy of praise."

"They are gems! they are treasures of art!" cried Hans,
enthusiastically.

"And my sweet Kate!" cried the boy, as his eyes ran over, while a throng
of em