"Oh, you will see," replied the young lady, looking wise. "But be careful, I warn you, not to prick your fingers. Perhaps, though," she added, "mother may not allow us to join in, for this is a special feast-day, in honor of you and your parents." Ferdinand was not kept long in suspense. The viands having been disposed of to the satisfaction of every one, the maid brought in the "pièce de resistance." It towered high above her head, and had she not been brought up in the open air of the country she certainly never would have had the strength to manage such a burden. Upon a huge wooden dish was piled high fresh fruits from the orchard, cakes with delicious frosting, nuts and bright flowers. It was a medley of color, set off by great streamers of gay ribbons and bows; quite like a bridal cake, but vastly more interesting. Tongues wagged fast, you may be sure; all wished to get a chance at the gorgeous centrepiece, nevertheless, they all waited for their host's approval, and, waiting his opportunity, when many were not on the alert, he raised his hand, and then such a scramble you never saw in all your days. The men rose out of their seats and grabbed for one particular sweetmeat, which might appeal to the palate of his fair partner; but for all their precautions, knowing the hidden secrets of the dessert, many emerged from the battle with scratched hands or bleeding fingers, for these delicious cakes and luscious fruits covered prickly nettles, a trap for the unskilful. But what mattered these trifles to the happy-hearted peasant folk. They chatted and laughed and dived for fruit and decked the hair of their favorites with gay flowers, or cracked nuts with their knife handles and fed them to their lady loves. With the coffee, the feast ended. Carrying the benches to the sides of the room, where they ordinarily reposed, the table was cleared as if by magic. Now the dance was on. Zithers and violins appeared, and the darkened rafters of the Gesindestube rang with the clatter of many feet. By ten o'clock all was quiet at the farm-house; the guests had complimented their host and hostess upon the success of the evening, and the elaborateness of the table; they bade farewell to the Müller family, and saying good night to all, made their way over the fields, singing with hearty voices, their tuneful folk-songs; and thus Ferdinand heard the last of them ere he fell asleep. CHAPTER V SOME TYROLESE LEGENDS