er's faith was strong in them that no
land could ever hold the same good as this land through which the Rhine
flowed to the sea. But as the time came when they must enter the army
there was rebellion. Here and there, in the air it seemed, for no one
could say from whence the new feeling had come, were questions the sound
of which was not to be tolerated by any true Prussian. Why should this
great army live on the toil of the peasant? Why should the maintenance
of these conscripts swallow up every possible saving in the wages and be
the largest item save one in the year's expenses? Why should there be a
standing army at all?

Hans, when his time came, had learned to ask, but he had not learned to
answer. The splendor of his uniform appeared to be in some sort a reply,
and its tightness may also have had its effect in restricting his mental
operations. For three years the carefully kept accounts of Grossvater
Bauer held the item: "Maintenance of son in army, $121.37." Then Hans
came home and married Lieschen, the little dairy-maid, and in due time
Lotte's blue eyes opened on the world whose mysteries were still not
quite explicable to the heavy father. Wilhelm and Franz had taken their
turn, and in spite of questions settled passively at last into the farm
life. Then came the war,--the war that called for every man with
strength to carry a gun,--and when it was over Lotte was fatherless, and
there were no more sons to bear the name, or to trouble Grossvater
Bauer's mind with further questions.

Very glorious, but what use if there were no boys left to whom the story
could be told? If he had yielded, if even one had crossed the sea, there
would be something still to live for. But Lieschen had given them no
boys. He thought of it day after day, till the familiar fields grew
hateful and he wished only to escape from the land to which he had paid
a tax too heavy for mortal endurance. There was no one but Lieschen and
her little ones, Lotte first of all and best beloved, and in another
month they had set sail and the old life was over.

"Work for all, homes for all, plenty for all," Annchen had written how
many times. Yet now, when the Grossvater appeared, and the round-eyed
Lieschen and her tribe of five, Peter shook his head. He had prospered,
it is true. From journeyman tailor he had become master on a small
scale, and packed himself and his men into a shop so tiny that it was
miraculous how elbow-room remained to use the