Young Herr Leonhardt was tall and slender, with a gentle, frank expression of countenance,--such a face and form as one might imagine belonged to the favourite son of the patriarch Jacob. There was a certain poetic grace in the devotion with which he guided the uncertain steps of his blind father. His eyes were bent upon the ground, that every obstruction might be removed against which his father's feet might stumble. He swung his light straw hat hither and thither in his hand, and his fair hair encircled his broad brow with masses of curls. Käthchen stopped crying as soon as she saw him. His graceful figure stood alone among the coarse peasant youths, and, truly as she loved and honoured his father, the son was dearer to her childish heart, for he was young, hardly twelve years older than she herself, and youth clings to youth. She arose and walked feebly towards the pair. "Why, Käthi, brave little girl, that never cried when they cut off her arm, what has happened to you?" "They tease me," sobbed Käthchen, "because I have such an easy time and was run over by a grand coach. They envy me my good luck, and no one loves me any more. But it shall not be so,--I will not have anything more than the other poor cripples,--I will give them all some of my money. Seppel needs it far more than I do, and he got nothing for the big stone that fell upon him, although he is a grown-up man. I am only a stupid little child, who never earned anything, and yet I get so much, because I have to sit still. But I will not keep it, and my father and mother must not keep it all to themselves,--they are well and strong. I will share it with those who have suffered as I have." "But, my dear little Käthchen," said Herr Leonhardt, much moved, "you are too generous to the people who tease you so. If you try to share with all the cripples and maimed people in the village, you will have very little left for yourself. If Heaven has decreed that you are to be rich while they remain poor, you may resign yourself gratefully to its inscrutable designs without any qualms of conscience. You can help the needy by giving them work upon your farm that you are to buy with the money that is coming to you. Until then, it would be much better to give them a little money weekly, than to bestow upon such rough men a large sum, that might tempt them to be idle and drink and gamble." "Yes, it would be better; but mother will not let me have anything. She does not like to have me give away a single kreutzer." "But what does your father say?" asked Walter, who had been regarding the child with silent admiration. "Oh, he works all day long in our new field, and does not care for anything. Mother keeps the money, and when she says, 'So it must be,' he does not say a word." "But how does that agree with your parents' great liberality to the Church?"