Then little Wilhelm replied: "Uncle, a dog is not a man, and a man is not a dog." This simple speech of the child softened the old man's heart so much, that he begged Lenz, when he again took possession of his own house, to leave little Wilhelm with him. It was Annele who chiefly urged a speedy return to their home on the Morgenhalde. Once she would have considered it Paradise to live in Petrowitsch's house, to be kind to the old man while he lived, and to inherit his wealth when he died; but now her sole wish was to pass the rest of her days, peacefully and frugally, in their solitary home. The death of her mother, which was concealed from her for some time, was a heavy blow to her. All her misfortunes seemed to have been crowded into that one terrible night. Wilhelm remained with Petrowitsch, who asked Pilgrim also to live with him. Those who were passing the house, often heard neighing like a foal, grunting like a pig, whistling like a nightingale, and hooting like an owlet; and often an old and a young child's head were seen at the window: it was Pilgrim and his young godson, trying to vie with each other, to see who could imitate most animals. And then the real barking of a dog was heard; it was Bueble barking. And last of all, a loud laugh, interrupted, however, by coughing; it was Petrowitsch, who was incessantly laughing at the pranks of the old boy and the young one, till his cough stopped his merriment. He had not left the village for years, and he maintained that so much laughing was better for his health than any baths. It was now the second summer since that eventful night. Lenz was working busily, and had now three journeymen under him, and all was going on prosperously. One day Lenz went to his uncle, and said: "I never yet asked you for anything." "But I will ask you something, which is, to be so good as to ask me for nothing." "Not for myself, certainly, but for Faller. He was seized with severe hoarseness in getting us out of the snow. He must go to some Baths." "Very well; here is money for the purpose. Tell him he must go in my stead, and float away my cough too. It is very good in you to ask nothing for yourself. You help yourself; that is always best." It cost no little trouble to persuade Faller to go to the Baths; but Annele at last succeeded, through his wife. Annele had now two friends, certainly very different from each other in every point. The one was the Doctor's Amanda, and the garden on the Morgenhalde had a great many cuttings from the Doctor's garden. Annele took much pleasure now in gardening; she had learned how to tend and nurse the plants herself. Her second friend was Faller's wife. "You are more in my own station," said Annele often, "for you too are a clockmaker's wife." Almost unconsciously, however, the entire subserviency of Faller's wife gratified her, for she was a combination of friend and servant.