home. His one wish was that he might never see the Morgenhalde again,
but could lie down in some ditch, or in the wood, or in any one of the
many quiet places he passed; lie down and die. Still, an irresistible
force drove him ever onward.

Before him lay Knuslingen, where Franzl lived with her brother. There
was at least one person in the world who would be glad to see him.

Who indeed could be so happy as Franzl when Lenz entered her room? She
was sitting at the window, spinning coarse yarn, and a great bound her
distaff gave at the sight of him. Twice she wiped the chair on which he
was to sit, uttering all the while many apologies at the untidiness of
the room. She had never noticed before how damp and smoky it was. Lenz
must tell all about himself, and yet she could not keep still long
enough to listen. She began running on in her old way. "At first the
cold here was more than I could bear, after being used to our good sun
on the Morgenhalde. Whenever there is a ray of sunlight anywhere, we
were sure to get it there. Whatever else may go wrong, Lenz, be
thankful for so much good sunlight; that no one can rob you of. It is
very different here. For seven weeks and five days not a glimmer
reached this valley. On the second day after the festival of the Three
Kings, at eleven o'clock, the first ray of sun fell on that pear-tree
at the edge of the hill, and from that time the sun kept climbing up so
that in summer it is warm and pleasant. By this time I have grown to
feel quite at home here again. But, Lenz, what makes you look so? There
is a something in your face that I never saw before,--something that
does not belong there. Ah! that is better; when you smile you have your
old look again,--your pleasant look. You must have felt how I have
prayed for you and yours every morning and every evening. I bear no
grudge against Annele, not the least. She was quite right. I am a poor,
worn-out tool. Whom do your children look like? What are their names?
When the spring comes again, I must get to see them if I have to creep
on my hands and knees." Then Franzl went on to tell how she had three
hens and three geese and a potato-patch, all her own. "We are poor,"
she said, folding her hands on her bosom, "but, thank Heaven, we have
never been reduced to looking on and seeing others eat. We have always
had something to put in our mouths. Please Heaven, next year I mean to
buy myself a goat." She bestowed great praise upon her gee