The beautiful Lisbeth wept in her chamber over the cruel disposition of her husband, and often did she feel that she would rather be back in her father's hut than to live with the rich but miserly and hard-hearted Peter. Alas, had she known that her husband had a marble heart, and could neither love her nor any one else, she would not have wondered so much at his actions. But whenever she sat at the door, and a beggar came up, took off his hat and began to speak, she now cast her eyes down that she might not see the poor fellow, and clasped her hands lighter lest she should involuntarily feel in her pocket for money. So it happened that the beautiful Lisbeth came to be badly spoken of throughout the entire Forest, and it was asserted that she was even more miserly than Peter himself. But one day while Lisbeth was sitting before the house, spinning, and humming a song--for she felt in unusually good spirits, as the weather was fine and Peter had ridden off--a little old man came up the road, carrying a large, heavy sack. Lisbeth had heard him panting while he was still at some distance, and she looked at him sympathetically, thinking that so old and weak a man ought not to carry so heavy a burden. In the meantime the man had staggered and panted up, and when he was opposite Lisbeth, he almost fell down under the sack. "Alas, take pity on me, madame, and hand me a glass of water," said the little man; "I can not go another step, and I fear I shall faint." "But at your age you ought not to carry such a heavy load," said Lisbeth. "Yes, if I was not forced by poverty to serve as a messenger," answered he. "Alas, a rich lady like you does not know how poverty pinches, and how refreshing a drink of water would be on such a hot day." On hearing this Lisbeth rushed into the house, took a pitcher from the shelf and filled it with water; but when she returned with it, and had come within a few feet of the man, she saw how miserable he appeared as he sat on the sack, and, remembering that her husband was not at home, she set the pitcher of water to one side, got a goblet and filled it with wine, laid a slice of rye bread on top of it, and brought it out to the old man. "There; a sip of wine, at your age, will do you more good than water," said she. "But don't drink it so hastily, and eat your bread with it." The little man looked at her in astonishment, while tears gathered in his eyes. He drank the wine and then said: "I have grown old, but I have seen few people who were so merciful, and who knew how to make gifts as handsomely and heartily as you do, Frau Lisbeth. And for this your life on earth shall be a happy one; such a heart will not remain without a reward." "No, and she shall have her reward on the spot!" shouted a terrible voice; and as they turned, there stood Peter with an angry face. "So you were pouring out my best wine for beggars, and giving my own goblet to the lips of a vagrant? There, take your reward!"