But I made display of enough of my ignorance without these special inducements. One day I think I made a blunder of quite everything which was given me to do. Besides such minor offences as putting the wrong harness on the horse and tying the cows in the wrong stalls, I spilled a sack of oats, broke a window-pane in the barn and buried a young turkey beneath a fork-full of manure--all in one day! At first Erna scolded sharply, but finding me quite hopeless, she seemed finally to give me up and simply trust to luck that I would leave the house standing and some of the stock alive at the end of this “perfect day.” She did, however, regard me with such a horribly disgusted look that, had I not been so “fed up” and disgusted myself, I would have had grave misgivings for my future. At all events I was convinced that after the failure I had made of the day’s work, they would not call me in for supper that evening. Indeed, I would fain have gone to rest without that unearned repast. It didn’t matter what I did or what they said, I told myself, they were only Germans, and I wasn’t hungry anyhow. With this intent I was walking shamefacedly through the kitchen to my cell when Erna swept in. “Where are you going?” she demanded, seizing me by the collar. “Supper!” she roared, as she pulled me into the dining room. The family had already eaten, so I was left to eat with my tormentor. The table was spread for the first time with a white table-cloth, for they had evidently had guests. She sat down directly opposite me, and only once was the silence broken. “Don’t soil the table-cloth,” she commanded, pointing threateningly with her fork. It stirred my blood a bit to think of this creature lecturing me on table-manners. “I’ve eaten off more white table-cloths than you,” I retorted bravely, fumbling at my fork in defence. She took this sally with contemptuous silence, which continued, with dark and threatening glances until we finished supper. She finished first. There was a dreadful pause, then she got up and sat down beside me! I watched her with suspicious alarm. I moved a few inches along the bench and fumbled again at my fork. Then it came--all of a sudden. She threw her arms around me and kissed me! “You poor little English fool!” she said. FOOTNOTES: [4] German non-commissioned officer. CHAPTER VI _The Day of Rest_ Sunday came and I was overjoyed to learn that it was observed even in Germany. I was feeding the cows when they told me the good news. I finished feeding them with enough haste to give them three kinds of indigestion and ran over to the next farm to see my mate, Albert, who had come to the village along with me. I located him by the strains of “Carry Me Back to Dear Old Blighty!” played on a mouth harmonica, and coming from the little room adjoining the cow stall. We greeted each other as though we had been separated for years. “Well, old boy, what do you think of it?” I asked.