's hens and geese, and the barking of a dog,
were the signal every noon of his uncle's approach. He nodded to him
through the window where he sat at work. His uncle returned the
greeting and passed on. Neither ever entered the house of the other.

One day the old man remained standing before the window. Bubby seemed
to guess his thoughts; for whereas he was usually contented with
driving Lenz's geese, cackling, behind the garden fence, and then
returning in triumph to his master, to-day he pursued them through the
garden and even into the house, where, however, they found a sufficient
protector in Franzl. Petrovitsch administered a stern rebuke to his
dog, and went on, thinking to himself, It is Lenz's place to come to
me, there is no use in my troubling myself about him. As soon as a man
begins to trouble himself about his neighbors there is an end of his
comfort. He has to keep wondering whether they will do this or whether
they will do that. I desire to be thankful I have nobody's business to
mind but my own. But still he could not help questioning, What is this
matter about the forest? Yesterday at dinner the landlady had taken a
seat by him, and, after talking of a variety of subjects, had quite
unexpectedly launched forth into praises of Petrovitsch's habit of
taking a daily walk. It kept him in good health, she said; he might
live to be a hundred, in fact had every appearance of it. She heartily
wished he might; he had had a hard time in life and deserved some
amends for it. Petrovitsch was wise enough to know that there was
something behind this unwonted friendliness. He attributed it, perhaps
not unjustly, to her having designs upon his nephew. She said nothing
about that, however, but once more turned the conversation upon his
daily walk, and said what a good thing it would be for him to buy of
her husband the beautiful Spannreuter forest by the Morgenhalde. To be
sure he would be sorry to sell it; indeed, she did not know whether he
would consent to sell at all, but she should like to give Petrovitsch
the gratification of walking every day in his own wood. Petrovitsch
thanked her for her exceedingly delicate attention, but ended the
matter by saying he liked quite as well to walk in another man's
forest; in fact, rather better, because then it did not vex him to see
persons stealing the wood, and to lose one's temper before dinner was
bad for the digestion. The landlady smiled intelligently, and replied
that