"May be it is with God, but with men-- Just think of it!--to be able to give money and money's worth to others! You make me ever so happy. I've had gifts, too, in my time. You don't know how it is, when the hands of the giver and the receiver touch. And some gifts are like hot bread in one's stomach. It stills your hunger, but it lies there like so much molten lead. But there are some good people whose gifts do one good. Grubersepp's father once came to me and gave me something, and so did Count Eberhard Wildenort, who lives on the other side of the Chamois hill." "Why, that's the father of my countess," said Walpurga, interrupting her. "Thank God! Then he'll live to be rewarded for it by his children. I never forget a name. Yes, I received presents from them both, and now they're again bestowing gifts through me. My child, I'll never forget you for this. To be able to give is heaven on earth. But while we stand here chattering, my poor brother's waiting out there like a poor soul at heaven's gate. Come along." They went into the room. The mother put the ten florin piece into her brother's hand, and said: "There, take it. I needn't go to my home now, for it has come to me, and if I never get there again, it's enough for me that I've seen my brother once more. There, Peter; that was to have been the money for my journey." "Tsch-st-st-st--" with these sounds, resembling the hissing of a pot on a fire, did the little pitchman receive the gift. "What does that mean?" asked Walpurga and her mother, in one breath. "Tsch-st-st-st," answered Peter. "What's the matter with you? are you crazy?" asked the mother, whose face had suddenly assumed a serious expression. "Tsch-st-st-st," replied the little pitchman again. And now it was Walpurga's turn to become angry and to inquire: "What do you mean by such capers?" "Oh, you piece of palace wisdom!" said Peter at last, "don't you know how it hisses when a drop falls on a hot stone, and, d'ye see? it's just the same with me and the money." The mother told him that he was ungrateful, and that the people thought that Walpurga had now enough money to make every one rich. He ought to feel very happy, for he had never before had so much at any one time. But the little pitchman, without making further answer, continued to repeat the strange, hissing noise. Walpurga went out and soon returned with another ten florin piece, which she gave to the little pitchman, who then said: "There! it's out now; I can pay all my debts and buy me a goat, besides," and, striking the pieces of money together, he sang: "What's the best? aye, what's the best? To be free from debt or care, And have a little money to spare-- That's the best; aye, that's the best."