hat she was washing herself, called out to her that
she must not do that again. "The cows drink there, and if you wash
yourself in that basin, they will never go there again."

"I have already noticed," she replied, "that the cattle have the first
place in this house."

When she saw me, she called out in a clear, ringing voice:

"Good-morning, master. Ernst was certainly right when he told me that
it is lovely here. One can see so far in every direction. I shall yet
climb every one of those hills. How good the water is! Do you, too,
hear the cuckoo? He is already awake, and has bid me good-morning. Old
Jaegerlies[2] has often told me that I was the cuckoo's child. And do
you know that the cow got a calf during the night? A spotted cow-calf?
We have already given the cow something warm to drink. The calf drank
milk when it was hardly two minutes old. Rothfuss said it would be a
pity to kill the calf. I am going to drive out into the fields with
Rothfuss to get some clover. Yes, a cow has a good time of it in your
house. But look! the cuckoo is flying over your house! That is an
omen!"

She went to the stable, and I followed her a short time afterwards. She
looked on dreamily while the cow was licking the new-born calf, and
said at last,

"That is what you folks call kissing."

Rothfuss asked her:

"Are you fond of cows?"

"I don't know; I never had one."

He showed her our best cow and said,

"Three years ago, when she was a calf, she got the first prize at the
agricultural exhibition. She puts food to the best use. Everything that
she eats turns either to meat or to milk."

Rothfuss told Martella to put on a little jacket. They soon drove out
to the fields, and when she held up the scythe, she exclaimed,
"Cuckoo!" It seemed to me as if I were dreaming, and yet I remembered
quite distinctly that my wife had spoken to me on the previous night of
the cuckoo's young ones.

What a strange coincidence it seemed!

Martella returned from the fields in good spirits, and during the
morning lunch was quite cheerful. She was constantly talking of the
daughter-in-law, and the cow-calf that had come into the family during
the night before.

I then said to her, "I will give you the cow-calf. It is yours."

She made no answer, but looked at me with an air of surprise.

Rothfuss told me that when in the stable, she had said to the calf:
"You belong to me. But of course, you know nothing of it. You really
belong to