Wondered at and admired by all, his pride which was great was amply gratified, and what was evil in his nature was not yet called into being--his disposition was melancholy, and showed none of the joyousness of youth--yet that very sadness seemed to make us love him all the more--his air of suffering asked for pity--'twas strange to see the glad-hearted Ella leave my mother's side, while she sang to us the songs of the blue Rhine, and bend her sunny brow with him over the ancient page of some clasped volume, containing the terrific legends of the "black forest," till the tales of the wild huntsmen filled her with dread--then again would she spring to my mother, and burying her head in her bosom, ask her once more to sing the songs of her native land, for so we still called Germany; and, as you see, the romances and legends of that country formed our childhood's lore, my early love for Ella grew and increased with my years, and I fancied that she loved me. On the first of May, or, as it was by us styled, "Walburga's eve," the young German maidens have a custom of seeking a lonely stream, and flinging on its waters a wreath of early flowers, as an offering to a spirit which then has power. When, as the legend tells, the face of their lover will glide along the water, and the name be borne on the breeze, if the gift be pleasing to the spirit. Ella, I knew, had for some time been preparing to keep this ancient relic of the pagan rites--she had a treasured rose tree which bloomed, unexpectedly, early in the season--these delicate things she fancied would be a fitting offering to the spirit. She paused not to think of what she was about to do--the thing itself was but a harmless folly--from aught of ill her nature would have drawn instinctively; but evil there might have been--she stayed not to weigh the result--at the last hour of sunset she wreathed her roses, and set out. In the lightness of my heart I followed in the same path, intending to surprize her. I heard her clear voice floating on the air, as she sung the invocation to the spirit--the words were these:-- Blue-eyed spirit of balmy spring, Bright young flowers to thee I bring, Wreaths all tinged with hues divine, Meet to rest on thy fairy shrine. With these I invoke thy gentle care, Queen of the earth and ambient air, Come with the light of thy radiant skies, Trace on the stream my true love's eyes, Show me the face in the silvery deep, Whose image for aye my heart may keep; Bid the waters echoing shell, Whisper the name thy breezes tell. And still on the feast of Walburga's eve, Bright young flowers to thee I'll give; Beautiful spirit I've spoken the spell, And offered the gift thou lovest well."