ry sticks. "He toils
hard, but not for gold and gain, to find the right words. You are always
wanting to know what he is looking for in his big books, so I plucked up
courage to ask him, and now I know. I suppose he saw I was astonished,
for he smiled just as he does when you have asked some foolish question
at lessons, and added that a word was no trifling thing and should not
be despised, for God had made the world out of one single word."

Ulrich shook his head, and after pondering a few minutes, replied.

"Do you believe that?"

"Father said so," was the little girl's only answer. Her words expressed
the firm, immovable security of childish confidence, and the same
feeling sparkled in her eyes. She was probably about nine years old,
and in every respect a perfect contrast to her companion, her senior by
several summers, for the latter was strongly built, and from beneath
his beautiful fair locks a pair of big blue eyes flashed defiance at the
world, while Ruth was a delicate little creature, with slender limbs,
pale cheeks, and coal-black hair.

The little girl wore a fashionably-made, though shabby dress, shoes and
stockings--the boy was barefoot, and his grey doublet looked scarcely
less worn than the short leather breeches, which hardly reached his
knees; yet he must have had some regard for his outer man, for a red
knot of real silk was fastened on his shoulder. He could scarcely be the
child of a peasant or woodland laborer--the brow was too high, the nose
and red lips were too delicately moulded, the bearing was too proud and
free.

Ruth's last words had given him food for thought, but he left them
unanswered until the last bundle of sticks was tied up. Then he said
hesitatingly:

"My mother--you know.... I dare not speak of her before father, he goes
into such a rage; my mother is said to be very wicked--but she never was
so to me, and I long for her day after day, very, very much, as I long
for nothing else. When I was so high, my mother told me a great many
things, such queer things! About a man, who wanted treasures, and before
whom mountains opened at a word he knew. Of course it's for such a word
your father is seeking."

"I don't know," replied the little girl. "But the word out of which God
made the whole earth and sky and all the stars must have been a very
great one."

Ulrich nodded, then raising his eyes boldly, exclaimed:

"Ah, if he should find it, and would not keep it to himself, but