Milk, said the man who had brought Pegnitz its supply for years, was by no means as rich as it used to be. Fodder was scarce, and every one used his milch cow as oxen now, far more than formerly. He set out at four every morning of his life, covered twenty miles, or more than twice what he had before the war, and sometimes could not fill his four cans at that. Up to a few months before he had had an assistant—an English prisoner. He never tired of singing the praises of “my Englishman,” as he called him. He worked some reference to him into every sentence, each time displaying his fangs in his pleasure at the recollection. “My Englishman” had come to him in 1915. He was a bank clerk at home and knew no more of farming than a child. But he had learned quickly, and to speak German as well—a sad German it must have been indeed if he had copied from the dialect of the region. For months at a time “my Englishman” had driven the milk route alone, while _he_ remained at home to work in the fields. Run away! Nonsense! He had told people he had never enjoyed himself half so much in London. He had promised to come back after peace. He stayed until two months after the armistice. His last words were that he knew he could never endure it to sit all day on a stool, in a stuffy office, after roaming the hills of Bavaria nearly four years. On Sundays he went miles away to visit other Englishmen. French prisoners went where they liked, too; no one ever bothered them. They had all left in January, in a special train. Yes, most of them had been good workmen, “my Englishman” especially. They had labored with the women in the fields when the men were away, and helped them about the house. They had always been friendly, sometimes _too_ friendly. Did I see that little boy across the street, there in front of the widow’s cloth-shop? Every one knew he was English. But what could you expect, with husbands away sometimes for years at a time? [Illustration: WOMEN AND OXEN—OR COWS—WERE MORE NUMEROUS THAN MEN AND HORSES IN THE FIELDS] [Illustration: THE BAVARIAN PEASANT DOES HIS BAKING IN AN OUTDOOR OVEN] [Illustration: WOMEN CHOPPING UP THE TOPS OF EVERGREEN TREES FOR FUEL AND FODDER] [Illustration: THE GREAT BREWERIES OF KULMBACH NEARLY ALL STOOD IDLE]