hole, you
starvelings!"

"Why, who spoke to you," said Ludwig the locksmith, "you straw-boots?"

"You'll never walk on straw as long as you live," replied the
manor-house farmer. "I'll find such beds for you that you won't have
straw enough under your heads to sleep on. And if I should be ruined,
and my wife and child too, and not have a span of ground left, I'll not
let you off another farthing. I'll have my rights, if I must go to the
emperor himself. Mark my words." He gnashed his teeth as he rose, and
all hope of a compromise was gone. At last he even quarrelled with his
father-in-law, and went out, banging the door after him.

When he came home, his wife and daughters wept as if somebody had died,
so that all the passers-by stopped to learn what was the matter. But
all their entreaties could not turn the manor-house farmer from his
purpose. Old Staufer returned home without coming to see his daughter:
he sent Marem to say good-bye to her.

The old state of things went on. The manor-house farmer and his wife
had frequent differences, which Vefela had to settle. The father had a
sort of reverence for "the child," for such was the name by which she
went all over the house. There was such angelic mildness in her face,
and her voice had such a magic charm, that if she only took his hand,
looked up into his face with her blue eyes, and said, "Dear daddy," he
became meek and gentle at once: the strong man followed the guidance of
his child as if it were a higher being; he never spoke a harsh word in
her presence, and did every thing to please her, except only to make
peace with his enemies.

Yet on this very subject the obstinacy of the manor-house farmer was
but the cloak for a great struggle which was going on in his mind. He
would fain have extended the hand of reconciliation, but was ashamed to
confess what he called his weakness; and, as matters had gone so far,
he thought his honor was at stake in keeping up the war. The thought of
his honor recalled his pride; and he thought himself superior to the
other farmers. This notion was fostered by the fawning law-clerks of
the town and by mine host of the Crown Inn there, who always talked to
him of his excellent mind and of his barony. He did not believe what
they said; but still he liked to hear it. Finding, in time, that the
townsfolk were really no wiser than himself, and convinced, like all
European peasants, that the city is inhabited by beings of a far
differ