readily he retained in his mind the stories and songs he heard,
and how neat-handed he was! With stones and mussel shells he put
together pictures and ships with which one could decorate the room;
and he could cut out his thoughts wonderfully on a stick, his
foster-mother said, though the boy was still so young and little! His
voice sounded sweetly; every melody flowed at once from his lips. Many
chords were attained in his heart which might have sounded out into
the world, if he had been placed elsewhere than in the fisherman's hut
by the North Sea.

One day another ship was stranded there. Among other things, a chest
of rare flower bulbs floated ashore. Some were put into the cooking
pots, for they were thought to be eatable, and others lay and
shrivelled in the sand, but they did not accomplish their purpose, or
unfold the richness of colour whose germ was within them. Would it be
better with Juergen? The flower bulbs had soon played their part, but
he had still years of apprenticeship before him.

Neither he nor his friends remarked in what a solitary and uniform way
one day succeeded another; for there was plenty to do and to see. The
sea itself was a great lesson book, unfolding a new leaf every day,
such as calm and storm, breakers and waifs. The visits to the church
were festal visits. But among the festal visits in the fisherman's
house, one was particularly distinguished. It was repeated twice in
the year, and was, in fact, the visit of the brother of Juergen's
foster-mother, the eel breeder from Zjaltring, upon the neighbourhood
of the "Bow Hill." He used to come in a cart painted red, and filled
with eels. The cart was covered and locked like a box, and painted all
over with blue and white tulips. It was drawn by two dun oxen, and
Juergen was allowed to guide them.

The eel breeder was a witty fellow, a merry guest, and brought a
measure of brandy with him. Every one received a small glassful, or a
cupful when there was a scarcity of glasses: even Juergen had as much
as a large thimbleful, that he might digest the fat eel, the eel
breeder said, who always told the same story over again, and when his
hearers laughed he immediately told it over again to the same
audience. As, during his childhood, and even later, Juergen used many
expressions from this story of the eel breeder's, and made use of it
in various ways, it is as well that we should listen to it too. Here
it is:

"The eels went into the bay; an