This most magnificent and ingenious allegory of the silver blessing that had followed Käthchen's misfortune had cost the poet of the village, the highly-gifted Reverend Father, many an anxious thought; and, in consequence of it, the little girl went universally by the name of "Silver-armed Käthchen," although she persistently refused to verify her nickname by making use of an artificial limb. Her father and mother were the objects of great ridicule and envy, but they did not mind it at all, they could laugh in their turn,--they had plenty of money,--and, what was more, they had, by means of it, gained more favour with the Lord than all those who jeered at them. The host of the "Stag" and the burgomaster were the richest people in the village, but neither of them could boast that he had given three hundred gulden to the Church, and the burgomaster had put up a very mean cross over in the meadow, and, for economy's sake, had had only the head and hands and feet of Christ painted upon it, leaving all the rest of the figure to the imagination. So they could enjoy their wealth without any misgivings. They knew how high in favour they stood with the Lord; and, besides, Frau Keller had sprinkled the package of notes that Möllner had given her with holy water. She had done this entirely of her own mind. It was impossible to be too prudent in such a case. So now that everything had been done to keep off the Evil One, a blessing would be sure to follow. Little Käthchen, however, thought and felt very differently. She was very unhappy to find that the children stood aloof, staring at her as at some strange animal when she went to sit in the sunshine before the door, and that the big boys called her Silver-arm, and plucked her by the empty sleeve that dangled from her shoulder. But it was worse than all one day when a cripple came crawling past,--there were many cripples in the country round about, as there always are where human beings are fighting for the mastery with the rude forces of nature. This man stopped before her and muttered, "Oh, yes, you are treated like a princess! Such a poor fellow as myself is worse off than a dog, for when a dog breaks its leg it is shot, but I must hobble about and starve for the sake of Christian charity! Such pious people as you are can always make friends with the Almighty, and therefore a grand coach is sent to drive over you, while only a huge stone in the quarry crushed my hip, and there was no fuss made about it. The grand folks, whose house the stone helped to build, never troubled themselves about the human blood that had sprinkled it. Well, well,--to every one his own!" And the man went hobbling off upon his crutches, and Käthchen covered her eyes with the one poor hand that was left, and sobbed bitterly. "Is that my merry little Käthchen that I hear crying?" suddenly asked a familiar voice; and, when the child looked up, she saw Herr Leonhardt approaching, supported by his son.