otpaths leading through green meadows to the dwellings of man.

Here and there a woman branches off from the group passing along the
valley, making a sign with her hymnbook towards her home, where her
children are watching from the narrow rows of windows, or running
hastily down the meadow to meet their mother; and when these good
creatures take off their Sunday clothes, they sigh heavily, thinking of
the mournful death of their kind friend, and yet they feel how good a
thing it is, that those nearest and dearest to them are still left, to
be loved and cherished. Indoor work, however, does not seem to prosper
today. The attractions of the world without, still seem to absorb the
villagers, who do not find it so easy to dismiss them from their
thoughts.

The balancemaker from Kunslingen, celebrated for his superior brass and
leaden weights, who accompanied the groups to the nearest cross road,
said in a thoughtful tone:--

"What a senseless thing it does seem, after all, to die! Lenz's good
mother had gathered such a vast store of wisdom and experience, and now
she is laid in the ground, and all her sagacity and good sense lost to
the world for ever."

"At all events her son seems to have inherited her goodness," said a
farmer.

"Yes; but experience and knowledge every man must acquire for himself,"
said a little old man, whose face was like a note of interrogation--he
was nick-named the Proebler (experimenter) though his real name was
Zacherer, because, instead of applying steadily to the usual routine of
clockmaking, he was constantly trying all kinds of new experiments, and
consequently in very poor circumstances.

"The old customs were far better and more sensible," said an old man
who lived on the other side of the valley, Schilder-David by name. "In
those good old days, we had a substantial funeral feast, which was
greatly needed as a restorative, after such a long journey and so much
sorrow; for nothing makes a man more hungry and thirsty than the
exhaustion of grief. At that time, too, it was the schoolmaster who
pronounced the funeral exhortation, and if he was sometimes a little
lengthy, what did it matter? Now this is all done away with, and I am
so hungry, and so weary, that I can scarcely move from the spot."

"And I too!" "And I!" resounded on all sides; and Schilder-David
continued:--"And what are we to do when we get home? our day is
gone--of course we are glad to give it up, for the sake of paying