"A smart pretty maiden, quite a young sprig, A farmer did choose for his bride; Her favours, however, to a soldier man jig, And sly to her old man she cried-- "It's perfectly ripping, I can tell you." And he began to hum the continuation with a laugh: "He had much better toss the hay, hooray, The hay, hooray----" "Hush!" She put her hand to his mouth. "That's not at all a nice song--it's a horrid one. You mustn't sing that any more." "But why not?" He gazed at her with eyes round with amazement. "Because I don't wish it," she said curtly. She was indignant: she would give the girl a bit of her mind to-morrow, yes, to-morrow. Her cheeks were no longer hot. A cold wind blew through the veranda, which pierced her to the very heart. When her husband called out: "Why, Kate, what have you been doing with yourself? Do take off your things first," she quickly answered his call. The boy remained alone behind, and looked out into the mild night that was now quite dark, with blinking, dreamy eyes. Oh, how beautifully Cilia had sung. She would have to sing and tell him stories to-morrow as well. But if she were to come there again! Never mind, they would be sure to be able to find a place where they would be undisturbed. Kate did not sleep at all that first night, although she was dead-tired. Perhaps too tired. She had had a long talk about it with Paul after they were in bed. He had said she was right, that neither the one nor the other song was very suitable, but: "Good gracious, what a lot of things one hears as a child that never leave any trace whatever," he had said. "Not on _him_." And then she had said plaintively: "I've so often tried to read something really beautiful to him, the best our poets have written but he takes no interest in it, he has no understanding for it as yet. And for such--such"--she sought for an expression and did not find it--"for such things he goes into raptures. But I won't allow it, I won't stand it. Such things may not come near him." "Then let her go," he had said testily. He was on the point of falling asleep, and did not want to be disturbed any more. "Good night, darling, have a good night's rest. Now that you've come home again you'll do what you think right." Yes, that she would! From that day forth she never let the boy out of her sight. And her ears were everywhere. There was no reason to send the girl away--she was honest and clean and did her duty--only she must not be alone with Woelfchen again. Wolfgang was now in his twelfth year, it was not a maid's place to look after him any more.