old
Rauchen, the miller; and no wonder, for she was as fascinating a damsel
as ever dazzled and perplexed a bashful lover. She had admiration
enough, for to see her was to love her; many of the village youngsters
had looked unutterable things as they met her at May-feasts and
holidays, but up to this time she had received no poetical epistles nor
direct proposals, and was as cheerful and heart-free as the birds that
sang around her windows. Her father was the traditional guardian of
beauty, surly as the mastiff that watched his sacks of flour and his
hoard of thalers; and though he doted on his darling Katrine, his heart
to all the world beside seemed to be only a chip from one of his old
mill-stones. When Carl thought of the severe gray eyes that shot such
glances at all lingering youths, the difficulty of winning the pretty
heiress seemed to be quite enough, even with a field clear of rivals.
But two other suitors now made advances, more or less openly, and poor
Carl thought himself entirely overshadowed. One was Schoenfeld, the most
considerable farmer in the neighborhood, a widower, with hair beginning
to show threads of silver, and a fierce man withal, who was supposed to
have once slain a rival, wearing thereafter a seam in his cheek as a
souvenir of the encounter. The other was Hans Stolzen, a carpenter,
past thirty, a shrewd, well-to-do fellow, with nearly a thousand
thalers saved from his earnings. Carl had never fought a duel,--and he
had not saved so much as a thousand groschen, to say nothing of
thalers; he had only a manly figure, a cheery, open face, the freshness
of one-and-twenty, and a heart incapable of guile. Katrine was not long
in discovering these excellences, and, if his boldness had equalled his
passion, she would have shown him how little she esteemed the
pretensions of the proud landholder or the miserly carpenter. But he
took it for granted that he was a fool to contend against such odds,
and, buttoning his jacket tightly over his throbbing heart, toiled away
in his little fields, thinking that the whole world had never contained
so miserable a man.

Hans Stolzen was the first to propose. He began by paying court to the
jealous Rauchen himself, set forth his property and prospects, and
asked to become his son-in-law. The miller heard him, puffed long
whiffs, and answered civilly, but without committing himself. He was in
no hurry to part with the only joy he had, and, as Katrine was barely
e