The children rambled about the farm and outbuildings. The farm-house was very long and deep and low, with a long, slanting roof. The front door was of heavy timbers upon which was a design of St. Martin outlined in nails, the work of the farmer, while small crosses at either side of the door were considered sufficient protection from the evil spirits who might wish to attack the family within. The interior of the farm-house was very simple; a large vestibule called the Laube or bower served as a means of communication between the different parts of the house; the sleeping-rooms were ranged on one side, while the dining and living-room occupied the other, with the kitchen just beyond. The Gesindestube, or living-room, was very plain, with its bare floors and darkened walls; a tile stove in one corner, benches about the walls and chests, some plain, some elaborately decorated and carved, occupied whatever space was left. Here were kept the household linens and the wardrobes for the family, as no Austrian peasant home is built with closets as we have in America. That evening, Herr Runkel said to Ferdinand: "To-morrow, my boy, we work. Would you like to help?" "Oh, it would be jolly," replied the lad. After a moment's hesitation, he added: "What kind of work? Hoeing potatoes or weeding the garden?" These two tasks were the only ones the lad was familiar with upon his uncle's farm in Tyrol. The farmer laughed. "No, we won't do that," he said. "We'll leave that to the servants; but we'll make shoes." "Make shoes!" exclaimed the child, incredulously. "Really make them yourself? I've never made shoes," he added, doubting whether he might be allowed now to assist. "Why not?" answered Herr Runkel. "You know we are very old-fashioned here; and, as we have so far to go to the shops, why we don't go; we let the workmen come to us. This is an off-time of the season; so we have the tailors and the shoemakers and all sorts of folk come and help us with such things as we can't do ourselves, for, you know, we make everything we use on the farm, and everything we wear." "Oh, how fine," said Ferdinand. "Yes, and we have jolly times, too," continued the farmer, "for when work is over we play. Isn't that right?" Ferdinand went to bed that night with visions of tailors and shoemakers and harnessmakers and whatnot, in his head, until he fell asleep. CHAPTER IV THE PEASANTS' DANCE FERDINAND needed no call to arouse him in the morning. He was awake and up long before any of his family, but he did not catch Herr Runkel nor his buxom wife, napping. "Come along, Ferdinand, and help me get the leather ready for the men," said the farmer, and he led the way across the garden to a great timber building, two stories in height. He opened the door, and they entered a very large room, with a decided smoky smell about it. "What is this?" asked Ferdinand.