ring the plague.

"Reicklein, yonder, had no other relatives here--her parents were from
Bamberg--but she was well off, and her husband, Veit, earned enough by
his travels through the country. But on St. Blaise's day, early in the
month of February, during a trip to Vogtland, it was at Hof, he was
overtaken by a snowstorm, and the worthy man was found frozen under a
drift, with his staff and pouch. The sad news reached her just after the
birth of a little boy, and there were two other mouths to feed besides.
Her savings went quickly enough, and she fell into dire poverty, for she
had not yet recovered her strength, and could not do housework. During
Passion Week she sold her bed to pay what she had borrowed and to feed
the children. It was cold, she had not a copper, nor any possibility
of earning anything. Then the rest went, too, and there was no way of
getting food enough for the children and herself.

"But as her father had been in the employ of the city and was an honest
man, by the advice of the provost of St. Sebald's, who had been her
confessor from childhood, she applied to the Honourable Council, and
received the answer that old Hans Schab was by no means forgotten, and
therefore, to relieve her need, she was referred to the beadle, who
would give her the permit which enabled her to ask alms from those who
went to St. Sebald's Church, and had already afforded many a person
ample support.

"For her children's sake she crushed the pride which rebelled against
it, and stood at the church door, not once, but again and again. The
other mendicants, however, treated her so roughly, and the cruel
enmity with which they tried to crowd her out of her place seemed so
unbearable, that she could not hold out. Once, when they insulted her
too much, and again thrust her back so spitefully that not even one
of the many churchgoers noticed her, she, fled to her children in the
little room, determined to stop this horrible begging. This happened the
Saturday before Whitsuntide, and as she had gone out hoping this time
to bring something back, she had promised the children food enough to
satisfy their hunger. They should have some Whitsuntide cakes, too,
as they did years ago. When she reached the house and little
Walpurga--you'll see her presently, a pretty child six years old--ran
to meet her, asking for the cakes and the bread to satisfy her hunger,
while Annelein, who is somewhat older, but less bright and active, did
the