Johannes did his very best. He felt that only now had life begun in real earnest. For one's bread one must work, and earn money. He had never yet thought about money and money-making; but the reality was stern and sobering. Every one around him talked about money and money-getting. Yet his noble Guide, he saw, was poor and shabby--forced to hard and constant labor to keep from starving. Life grew serious indeed. They said but little to each other. They were too busy. Johannes enjoyed the work. He felt there was something heroic and important in the fact that he, the young gentleman who had been to a superior school here, was now going around as a scissors-grinder's boy. And when the housemaids, somewhat surprised, looked at his neat little suit, he carried it more jauntily. But the meeting with an old schoolmate was full of pain. Toward twelve o'clock he grew tired and hungry. In passing by the bakeries he had a feeling now that he had never known before--almost peevishness--as if something had been taken away from him--as if that bread were his by very right. Then they came to the circus, where Marjon was. And there she sat, with her dark-eyed sister. Her flaxen hair was now braided and wound around her head. Johannes heard the sound of an iron kettle being shaken, and he knew that that meant potatoes. And there was bacon, also, and some boiled vegetables. At first, these things were of prime importance to him. He could think of nothing else until he had eaten--ravenously. Then, rather ashamed, he glanced up. They were sitting out-of-doors, in the rear of the tents and the booths, with an awning stretched out over their heads to protect them from the sun, which was shining fiercely and brightly. Close by stood the circus-wagon--painted green, with variegated red and white trimmings. A canary's cage stood upon the platform, between flower-pots, and the yellow bird was singing merrily. Johannes thought it fine and good now to be among people. There sat the bright little being with the pale face, the large grey eyes, and the ash-blonde hair--braided and wound like a diadem about her head. It seemed to Johannes as if a brilliant light streamed out from her; a light which tasted sweet, and smelled sweet also. And could she not ride a horse, and spring through hoops, and with those slender hands throw plates up high, and catch and balance them? And she looked often at Johannes, and seemed to find him a nice little boy. Beside her, calm and serious, his head bent forward, his dark hair curling in his neck, sat Markus, eating. This made him seem to Johannes still more dear and intimate.