verlasting roasting, boiling, and stewing; and the moment you
approached the house such a rich greasy odour was perceptible that all
who came from Roettmanshof seemed impregnated with lard and suet. It was
said that the cause of this greasy smell, was the old lady pouring
whole cansfull of spoiled lard on the road every year. She preferred
its being thrown away to giving it to any poor person. There was very
little stir of labour about the place, for a wood merchant has the
advantage of his possessions growing while he is sleeping, and without
any exertion on his part.

The house looked very singular in the midst of the snowy landscape. In
order to protect it from the weather, it was covered with shingles on
every side, painted bright red. To live in such a dwelling was like
living in a furnace.

There was a great uproar this morning at Roettmannshof, and nothing is
more repulsive than when a morning commences by incessant noise. What
kind of people must they be who on rising from sleep, in the early
freshness of morning, break out into angry discord and noisy strife,
and persevere in them, as if there was no such thing on earth as sleep
or quiet self-forgetfulness for man, enabling him to begin life afresh
each morning?

If the old Roettmaennin, even formerly, when she could still sleep, was
in the habit of rising at early dawn, as if preparing each day a war of
extermination, how much more unendurable now were her impatience and
restlessness, when she could no longer sleep at all! From her sick bed
she regulated everything with twofold severity, and it seemed quite
inconceivable how she could continue to live on amid this perpetual
irritation, and restless state of exasperation.

"I am quite well; I am resolved to go with you myself," said she. "I
don't care if I die by the way, so that I only complete this affair. Go
away, men; I am going to rise and dress properly. Now, this very
morning, the matter shall be finally settled with the Forest Miller's
Tony. What do you mean by standing so stupidly there, Adam? You ought
to be thankful that I manage matters for you--I mean your father and I
together; for in all your life you could do nothing for yourself, and
you will remain a poor creature to the end of your days. If no one will
undertake this Schilder-David and his family, I will show them their
proper place."

She insisted on her husband and son dressing in their Sunday clothes,
and they looked very imposing in