ves on the top of the well-loaded waggons, and to find that he
could still wield a scythe with the same vigorous strokes, mowing the
scanty second crop of grass on the mountain meadows just as close to
the ground as ever. While Klitzing lay down after his exertions and
rested his weary limbs, Vogt would spend hours over such field-work;
and the fatigue after this heaven-blest labour was far more grateful to
him than the idle, lazy time a soldier often enjoys directly the
arduous period of his early training is over. In the evenings after
bugle-call, out he would go again to mow a strip of grass before dusk;
and when returning, scythe on shoulder to the court-yard of his
quarters, he would sometimes quite forget that he still wore the
uniform of a soldier.

The sight of the various couples who, lovingly entwined, promenaded the
green lanes, suddenly appearing and as suddenly disappearing behind the
thick hedges, would recall him to actuality. He would then bethink him
how odd it seemed that he himself cared so little about womenfolk, Now
and then a pretty fresh girl would take his fancy, and he might have
liked well enough to take her face between his hands and give her a
hearty kiss; but he was too bashful, and he felt no desire to put
himself under the tutelage of the painted ladies of the garrison town
who smiled so engagingly at all the lads. The rough village maidens
suited him better; but one evening he had an experience which raised
grave doubts in his mind as to the virtue of even those rustic
beauties.

A woman's voice shrieking for help had suddenly resounded from a little
shady hollow not far from where Vogt was strolling, smoking his evening
pipe. He instantly ran forward, crying out in clear tones the first
words that came into his head: "Halt! halt! Who goes there?" Drawing
nearer he saw first a couple of soldiers in hasty flight through the
trees, and afterwards a curious something which he could not at once
make out.

When he came closer he discovered that some of his comrades had been
playing off one of their jokes upon a village girl. They had gathered
up her skirts above her head and tied them together with string; this
they called "making a tulip." She was running round in a comical
enough fashion, her lower limbs being entirely exposed, as she wore no
under-clothes; while her arms and the upper part of her body were
imprisoned in the woollen skirts, whence issued her muffled protests.

Vogt said