"Let me attend to this work," said she. "It is well that forest-trees do not require the same care as animals, or fruit-trees. Rude nature protects itself. But it will afford me pleasure to tend the shoots with great care." "But it is fatiguing." "I know that, but I can do something for the forest that brings us so many blessings." I gladly consented. And thus we have a fine grove down by the stone wall. While the children were growing up, my wife knew how to invest the planting of trees with a festive character. Richard and Johanna soon grew tired of it. But Bertha, Ludwig, Martella, and at a later day Ernst, were full of zeal, and had an especial affection for the trees which they had planted with their own hands. My wife was perfectly familiar with every nook in the woods, and when the new road was laid out she pointed out to Joseph a clear and fresh spring which had remained undisturbed, while we in the village were often poorly supplied with good drinking water. She persuaded him to alter its course so that it would flow towards the village; and now, thanks to her, we have a splendid spring which even in the heat of summer furnishes us with an abundance of cool and pure water. To this day we call it the Gustava spring. Every year, at my wife's birthday, it is decorated by the youth of the village. She seemed to live with the woods that she had planted. Without a trace of sentimentality, I mean exaggerated susceptibility, she rejoiced in the sunshine and the rain, the mists and the snow, because they helped the plants, and this state of mind contributed to the quiet grace and dignity which so well became her. On Christmas afternoon we could, in our sleighs, ride as far as the wood and the village beyond it. Martella told us that she, too, had planted thousands of white and red pines, but that there was not a tree that she could call her own. She called out unto the snow-covered plantation: "Say: Mother." "Mother," answered the distant echo. "And now say: Waldfried." "Waldfried" was the answer. We returned home, happy and light-hearted. Ernst remained with us until New Year's Day, and seemed to have regained his wonted cheerfulness. It was with pleasure not unmixed with jealousy, that Ernst saw how Martella hung on Richard's lips while listening to his calm and clear remarks on the topics that arose from day to day. His explanations were such that the simplest intellect could comprehend them. I cannot help thinking that Ernst's glances at Martella often were intended to convey some such words as these: "Oh, I know all that, too, but I am not always talking about it!" "I did not know that you could talk so well," said Martella on one occasion. At times we had quite heated discussions. With my sons it cost me quite an effort to defend my faith in the people. Ernst and Richard, who rarely agreed on any question, united in their low opinion of the people.