thered up and prepared for
Christmas-trees, and at the proper time would send them to the railway,
and have them sent down the country. I did my share in building the
road, for it passes right by my land, and is of great use to me. I do
not think of cutting down any of the lumber. The red pine may stand for
another twenty years. I could almost wish that this wood might remain
forever, for it is _hers_!

In the following spring, a gust of wind tore away some of the finest
branches, and the first planks made of them were used to construct a
coffin.

But I will not anticipate. It was in the third year after our marriage
that I returned home one evening with a large load of red-pine
saplings. I was sitting on the balcony with my wife, later in the
evening, and was telling her that I intended to set the five-year-old
shoots down by the stone wall, and that I had therefore chosen hardy
plants, in which the root was in proper proportion to the crown, but
that it was always difficult to find conscientious workmen, who would
look out for one's interest while attending to the matter.

My wife listened patiently while I explained the manner in which the
shoots should be planted.

"Let me attend to this work," said she. "It is well that forest-trees
do not require the same care as animals, or fruit-trees. Rude nature
protects itself. But it will afford me pleasure to tend the shoots with
great care."

"But it is fatiguing."

"I know that, but I can do something for the forest that brings us so
many blessings."

I gladly consented. And thus we have a fine grove down by the stone
wall.

While the children were growing up, my wife knew how to invest the
planting of trees with a festive character. Richard and Johanna soon
grew tired of it. But Bertha, Ludwig, Martella, and at a later day
Ernst, were full of zeal, and had an especial affection for the trees
which they had planted with their own hands.

My wife was perfectly familiar with every nook in the woods, and when
the new road was laid out she pointed out to Joseph a clear and fresh
spring which had remained undisturbed, while we in the village were
often poorly supplied with good drinking water. She persuaded him to
alter its course so that it would flow towards the village; and now,
thanks to her, we have a splendid spring which even in the heat of
summer furnishes us with an abundance of cool and pure water.

To this day we call it the Gustava spring.

Every ye