nd that silk dress he gave Charlotte on her birthday. Do young
girls wear silk dresses in our valley? Is a silk dress the thing for a
forester's daughter?"

"Leave him alone," said the wife. "He is contented with a little milk and
meal. He likes to be with us; it is a change from his lonesome city life,
with no one to talk to but his old governess; whilst here the little one
looks after him. He likes to talk to her. Who knows but he may end by
adopting her and leave her something in his will?"

The Head Forester, not knowing what to say, shrugged his shoulders; his
good judgment told him there was some mystery, but he never dreamed of
suspecting the good man's whole folly.

One fine morning a wagon slowly wended its way down the sides of Bigelberg
loaded with three casks of old Rikevir wine. Of all the presents that
could be given to him this was the most acceptable, for Yeri Foerster
loved, above everything else, a good glass of wine.

"That warms one up," he would say, laughing. And when he had tasted this
wine he could not help saying:

"Mr. Zacharias is really the best man in the world. Has he not filled my
cellar for me? Charlotte, go and gather the prettiest flowers in the
garden; cut all the roses and the jasmine, make them into a bouquet, and
when he comes you will present them to him yourself. Charlotte! Charlotte!
Hurry up, here he comes with his long pole."

At this moment the old man appeared descending the hillside in the shade
of the pines with a brisk step.

As far off as Yeri could make himself heard, he called out, his glass in
his hand:

"Here is to the best man I know! Here is to our benefactor."

And Zacharias smiled. Dame Christine had already commenced preparations
for dinner; a rabbit was turning at the spit and the savory odor of the
soup whetted Mr. Seiler's appetite.

The old Judge's eyes brightened when he saw Charlotte in her short
poppy-colored skirt, her arms bare to the elbow, running here and there
in the garden paths gathering the flowers, and when he saw her
approaching him with her huge bouquet, which she humbly presented to
him with downcast eyes.

"Monsieur le Juge, will you deign to accept this bouquet from your little
friend Charlotte?"

A sudden blush overspread his venerable cheeks, and as she stooped to kiss
his hand, he said:

"No, no, my dear child; accept rather from your old friend, your best
friend, a more tender embrace."

He kissed both her burning cheek