Who else, I'd like to know? I could put names to every one of 'em. It was me took the sheriff through the house, an' I spoke to a whole lot of 'em, an' they answered me back--quite friendly like. They did their business with little noise, but my word! they did it well. The sheriff spoke to 'em, and they answered him mannerly, as they always do. But there wasn't no stoppin' of them. They hacked on at the beautiful furniture as if they was workin' for wages. OLD HILSE _You_ took the sheriff through the house? HORNIG An' what would I be frightened of? Every one knows me. I'm always turnin' up, like a bad penny. But no one has anything agin' me. They're all glad to see me. Yes, I went the rounds with him, as sure as my name's Hornig. An' you may believe me or not as you like, but my heart's sore yet from the sight--an' I could see by the sheriff's face that he felt queer enough too. For why? Not a livin' word did we hear--they was doin' their work and holdin' their tongues. It was a solemn an' a woeful sight to see the poor starvin' creatures for once in a way takin' their revenge. LUISE [_With irrepressible excitement, trembling, wiping her eyes with her apron._] An' right they are! It's only what should be! VOICES AMONG THE CROWD AT THE DOOR "There's some of the same sort here."--"There's one no farther away than across the river."--"He's got four horses in his stable an' six carriages, an' he starves his weavers to keep 'em." OLD HILSE [_Still incredulous._] What was it set them off? HORNIG Who knows? who knows? One says this, another says that. OLD HILSE What do they say? HORNIG The story as most of 'em tells is that it began with Dreissiger sayin' that if the weavers was hungry they might eat grass. But I don't rightly know. [_Excitement at the door, as one person repeats this to the other, with signs of indignation._ OLD HILSE Well now, Hornig--if you was to say to me: Father Hilse, says you, you'll die to-morrow, I would answer back: That may be--an' why not? You might even go to the length of saying: You'll have a visit to-morrow from the King of Prussia. But to tell me that weavers, men like me an' my son, have done such things as that--never! I'll never in this world believe it. MIELCHEN [_A pretty girl of seven, with long, loose flaxen hair, carrying a basket on her arm, comes running in, holding out a silver spoon to her mother._] Mammy, mammy! look what I've got! An' you're to buy me a new frock with it. LUISE What d'you come tearing in like that for, girl? [_With increased excitement and curiosity._] An' what's that you've got hold of now? You've been runnin' yourself out o' breath, an' there--if the bobbins aren't in her basket yet? What's all this about? OLD HILSE Mielchen, where did that spoon come from? LUISE She found it, maybe. HORNIG It's worth its seven or eight shillin's at least. OLD HILSE