The two dun cows lowed with pleasure when they came briskly out into the yard, as though they already scented summer, with its mild air and green grass. He yoked them to the small wooden cart. Then he brought the sack of seed-corn from the barn. He had laid it in some time before, and the sack had not been disturbed. But he opened it to convince himself that all was right. He took up a large handful, and let the grains of wheat run through his fingers. The seed lay plump and heavy in the palm of his hand. Then a current of joy made his heart beat higher. He saw the crop growing green, then ripening; the stalks crowded thickly together, and as the summer breeze passed over the field the heavy ears bowed and swayed like ripples upon the sea. With a happy glance he looked about him; house and yard were in good order, the harrow lay waiting in the field, all was ready. And he drove his team merrily onwards. The dun cows stopped of themselves when they reached their destination. Franz Vogt smiled. Yes, this must be a thorn in the flesh for the lord of the manor! The corn-patch was small; but it stretched out amid the turnip-fields like a long arm that could hold its own, and that would not brook encroachment. Rich fruitful soil it was, that scarcely needed the manure he gave it. Pride awoke in the heart of the young peasant-farmer. Oh no, it was not so simple as the lord of the manor thought! It might be a good while yet before the big estate was "rounded off." Franz Vogt opened the mouth of the sack and shook out a portion of the seed-corn. The two cows stood chewing the cud by the wayside. He turned to the field. The sun shone gaily as it mounted upwards. The black earth lay ready and receptive; above the furrows hovered a light mist, and an invigorating aroma ascended from the soil, like incense offered by the maternal earth to the engendering sun to celebrate the new year of fruitfulness that was just beginning. The untiring force of nature was in this fragrance, shedding courage and strength into the hearts of mankind with the full benediction of spring. An overpowering sensation made the young peasant fall on his knees, and he touched the earth with reverent caressing hands as though it were something sacred. He had found his home again. A troop of hired labourers, strangers from Galicia, were approaching a field in the neighbouring property of the manor. They followed each other wearily like a band of slaves, unwilling and half asleep. Behind them came the inspector. "Avanti, avanti!" he cried, supposing, apparently, that this was Polish. And the strangers set to work. Their heads were bowed wearily, and their movements resembled the automatism of a machine. But Franz Vogt stepped out into the broad sunshine with head erect, and strewed the seed into the furrows of his land with a free sweep of his outstretched arm. Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co. London & Edinburgh.