Farther down the road there was a ruined house; a man leaned his head on his hand and looked from the window. A great deed that the world needed must be done; and the man loved the great deed, but his heart had grown faint, and he waited. And it chanced that Pippa passed, singing, and her song reached the man; and it was to him as if God called. He rose up strong and brave, and leaping to his horse he rode away to give the great deed to the world. At night when the tired Pippa lay upon her little bed, she said to the day, "Sweet Day, you brought me no loving deed to give in payment for the joy you gave." But the day knew. And on the morrow, the child Pippa went back to the mill and wound the silk bobbins, and she was so full of gladness, she hummed with them all day. Know'st thou the land where citrons are in bloom, The orange glows amidst a leafy gloom, A gentle breeze from cloudless heaven blows The myrtle still, and high the laurel grows? Know'st thou it well? Ah! there--Ah, there would I fare! --_From Goethe's "Wilhelm Meister."_ [Illustration: _By Paul Kiessling_ MIGNON] MIGNON. Once there was a band of people who did nothing but wander about from village to village, giving shows in the marketplaces. They had no homes or gardens or fields, but the fathers earned the living by doing remarkable things. The little children played in the wagons, and the mothers cooked the meals over the camp-fire when they stopped outside the village, and they were quite happy after their own fashion. But often, when they passed down the streets between the rows of thatched houses with children playing in the yards, it all seemed to them something very beautiful indeed, and they looked at it as long as it was possible. The little girl of the strong man, and the little boy whose father walked on his hands, often stood a long, long time looking through the fence at children who had real hollyhocks in their yards, besides a little green tree growing right out of the thatch on the top of the roof; and in some of the houses, where the doors stood open, they could see the most shining pans and kettles ranged about the chimney. But whenever they made a beautiful playhouse, with all the leaves brushed away and the rooms marked out with little sticks, they had to leave it next day. This was very discouraging, of course. Even the fathers and mothers grew discouraged sometimes, when they rode through the beautiful country. It was so sweet and so fair, and somehow it really seemed calling to them in a loving voice. But they always went on and on, from place to place, and no one ever knew what the real message was. But sometimes, deep in the strong man's heart there grew the strangest longing to go into the fields and reap and bind with the reapers, so that he too might see the yellow sheaves standing together when work was over.