"One of my five younger sisters, Catherine, was an excellent, amiable, lovely, faithful, and pious maiden. When my brother Johannes came home from Wittenberg, where he was a student, she bade him tell her how one could say in Latin 'That is truly a beautiful maiden;' he said '_Profecto formosa puella._' She asked further how could one say 'rather so:' he replied, '_sic satis_.' Some time after, three students, sons of gentlemen, came from Wittenberg to see the town; they had been recommended by Christian Smiterlow to the hospitality of his father, the burgomaster Herr Nicolaus Smiterlow, who was desirous to entertain them well, and to have good society for them. As he had three grown-up daughters, my sister Catherine was invited, besides other guests. The students exchanged all kinds of jokes with the maidens, and also said to one another in Latin what it would not have been seemly to say before maidens in German, as young fellows are wont to do. At last one said to the other '_Profecto formosa puella_;' whereupon my sister answered '_sic satis_;' then were they much afraid, fancying that she had also understood their former amatory talk. In the year 1544 she made a most unfortunate marriage with Christoph Meier, a coarse man, who wasted, idled away, and dissipated all that he had, even what he had received with my sister. "My mother accustomed her daughters from their youth up, to suitable household work. Once when my sister Gertrude, who was about five years old, was sitting spinning at her distaff--for spinning-wheels were not then in use--my brother Johannes told her that his Imperial Majesty had summoned a Diet, where the Emperor, Kings, Electors, princes, counts, and great lords would be assembled: she inquired what they would do there, and he answered, 'That they would determine and decree what was to be done in the world.' Then the little maiden at the distaff gave a deep sigh, and said dolefully: 'Oh good God! if they would only decree that such little children should not spin.' This sister, together with my mother and two other sisters, Magdalen and Catherine, died in peace in the year '49, when the plague was raging: my mother went first, and as my sisters were weeping bitterly, she said to them when dying: 'Why do you weep? pray rather that God would in his mercy shorten my pain.' Some days after, my youngest sister Gertrude died: although my eldest unmarried sister Magdalen was herself nigh unto death, she rose from her bed, and laid out not only Gertrude's shroud and winding-sheet, but her own also, and desired that when Gertrude was buried, the grave should be left open, being only lightly covered with earth, that she might be laid next to her; she then returned to her bed, and lived till the next day after Gertrude was buried: so she died, the tallest and strongest of all my sisters, an excellent, clever, and industrious housekeeper. This was written to me by my sister Catherine two days