"Hawermann," said farmer Grot, who was one of the people that had come on horseback, "you are so lonely here in your sorrow, do bring your little girl and come and pay me a visit, my wife will be so glad...."--"Thank you heartily for your kindness, but I can't accept your invitation, I have something to do here."--"You mean your dear wife's funeral, Hawermann," said farmer Hartmann, "when is it to be? We will all be glad to do her the last honours."--"Thank you, thank you, but that cannot be, it wouldn't be fitting, and I've just learnt that one oughtn't to stretch one's foot further than one's own roof will cover."--"Old friend, dear old neighbour and fellow-countryman," said Wienk, the farm-bailiff, laying his hand on his shoulder, "don't despair, things will get better."--"Despair! Wienk," said Hawermann earnestly, and pressing his child closer in his arms he looked calmly at the farm-bailiff with his honest blue eyes, and continued: "Is it despair when one looks one's future full in the face, and tries to find the best way of getting out of one's difficulties? I can't remain here, no one could stay in a place where his ship had run aground. I must live in another man's house. I must begin at the beginning again, and do as I did before. I must take service once more, and so earn my daily bread. And now good-bye all of you. You've been kind friends and neighbours to me. Good-bye--good-bye. Shake hands, Louie. Remember me to all at home. My wife...."--He was going to have said something more, but could not get out the words, so he turned quickly and hastened away.