Rontheim related, to our momentary amusement, how the vicar had lost the trunk containing his robes of office, and how he therefore had to perform his duties without his distinctive dress: a circumstance which worked no harm, as he was of great service at any rate. Martha took a quantity of goods along, which she wanted either to finish up at home, or to use as a means of instructing the children of our village. We drove home. It seemed like a dream to me that the saw-mill was running, that wagons loaded with wood met us, and that people were at work in the fields. Everything goes its gait, and yonder rages the battle. At the newspaper-tree we met Carl's mother and Marie, and she called out to me, "Do you see the flock of hungry crows! They are flying beyond the Rhine, to where the boys who used to sing are lying dead--and each of them had a mother." "Your Carl has written that he is safe and sound." "Yes, yes, until to-morrow. Come! We'll go home." The two boundary posts were united by means of a black, red, and gold flag, which had been wound around them. Joseph, whom we met there, had done it. He was greatly shocked at the sight of Martha in mourning, although he had already heard that her brother had fallen; but all life was now so uncertain, that he feared she might also be mourning for Julius. She gave him a letter which her father had brought from Julius. It was full of sadness, but at the same time he wrote with pride of his dead brother-in-law, and expressed himself as being convinced that he would return from the war uninjured. The days passed by quietly. The school-master reported that the children had become so inattentive that he did not know what to do, for they would not study their lessons, and talked of nothing but the war. He determined to let the children read the newspapers aloud, and copy the reports from the seat of war. The game-keeper who reported to Joseph told us that fewer crimes were being committed than usual, although the taverns were constantly full. There was a good deal of trespassing on the woods; but that was none of his business. Short and precise letters came from Carl, and he never forgot to mention that he had enough to eat and drink, for he knew that such news would gladden his mother's heart. Martha reported that Marie and Carl's mother had stopped going to the newspaper-tree. Marie had learned, to her astonishment, that you could buy your own newspapers, and so she procured one daily. Living in constant dread of her father, she subscribed for it in the name of the schoolmaster, and receiving it every evening, she undertook the troublesome task of reading it aloud to the old woman at night. The worst part of it was that the latter insisted on having the lists of the dead and wounded read to her. She did not know what she should do in case the awful news were to come.