"Yes, but father received the farm from his father, in just the same manner; although he has enlarged it, so that it is bigger and better. But, in addition to father and mother," continued the farmer, "I have all my brothers and sisters to look after. There is Teresa at the convent in Vienna; there is Frederick at the Gymnasium in Linz; and there is Max an apprentice in Zara; these must all be cared for; and, I can tell you, Müller, it's a responsible position, that of being the eldest son." "But you weren't called upon, Franz," replied his friend, "to provide so bountifully for each." "No, but what would you have?" he replied. "I have tried to be a dutiful son; and," he added, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at his wife, "I've been sort of lenient towards father and the children, because father let me off so lightly when he boxed my ears for the last time." "Boxed your ears?" exclaimed Herr Müller, in astonishment. "What _had_ you done to deserve such disgrace?" "Well, that was part of the ceremony. When the farm was made over to me, it's the custom, before signing the deed, for the owner to make the rounds of his estate with his family; when he comes to each of the four corner-posts, he boxes the ears of the new owner. Now, father might have boxed mine roundly, had he chosen, for I was somewhat of a rollicker in my youth," and the genial farmer chuckled softly, "but father was sparing of my feelings. Don't you believe he deserved a recompense?" "He certainly did," answered his friend, and they all laughed heartily over the matter. Meanwhile they had gained the entrance to the dower-house, as the home of the aged couple was called. As Herr Müller had not seen the parents of his friend since childhood there were many years of acquaintanceship to bridge over; and Ferdinand, fascinated, listened to the conversation, for this old couple were most interesting persons to talk with. After returning from church the family gathered on the wide verandah under the eaves, the women with their knitting, which is not considered improper even on Sundays among Austrian women. This verandah in the peasant home in Upper Austria is a most important part of the house. It is protected from the elements by the enormous overhanging eaves above, running the entire side of the house; heavy timbers support it, green with growing vines which climb from the porch boxes filled with gayly blossoming flowers. It is a tiny garden brought to one's sitting-room; the birds twitter in the sunlight, as they fly in and out of their nests under the eaves; and here the neighbors gossip and drink coffee and munch delicious cakes. In fact, it is the sole sitting-room of the family during warm days, for no peasant woman would think of shutting herself in a room to do her work. One can always work to better advantage in the sunlight and open air.