ame up to the simple wooden fountain, which, as in
most Bavarian villages, stood in the middle of the road.

A piece of black bread and a long draught from the fountain was
Stephan's breakfast, which being speedily finished, he broke the morning
stillness with repeated blasts from the horn, which seemed to awake the
valley as by magic; for scarcely had the more distant mountains echoed
the summons, than from almost every door-way scampered one or more
goats. All hurried in the direction of the water-tank, where they stood
on their hind legs to drink, jostled one another or frisked about in the
highest spirits, till fully two hundred were assembled, rendering the
street impassable. A peculiar cry from the boy and a sharp crack of the
whip were the signals for a general move. Away they skipped
helter-skelter through the town, along the accustomed road, high up the
rocky mountain-side. The little animals were hungry, so stopped every
now and then to nibble the attractive grassy tufts, long before the
allotted feeding ground was reached. There was, however, little fear of
losing them, as each wore a tiny bell round the neck, which, tinkling at
every movement, warned the boy of the straggler; a call invariably
brought it back, though often by a circuitous route, enabling the animal
to keep beyond the reach of the whip, which Stephan lashed about with
boyish enjoyment.

Noon found the goats encamped under the shade of some tall pine-trees,
and Stephan Reindel was busily arranging a bunch of bright red
cranberries at the side of his hat, when a shot arrested his attention.
He jumped up, and with boyish curiosity explored the pine wood; but
fearing to go too far on account of his flock, he was returning, when a
second shot followed by a sharp cry, convinced him it was some hunter
who had driven his game much lower down than was at all usual. The
second report had sounded so near that he continued his fruitless search
till it was time to go home, when, as usual, he drove his flock back by
five o'clock.

Directly they entered the village, each goat trotted off to its own
abode, and Stephan to his, where, after eating his supper of black bread
and cheese, he sat listlessly watching his mother varnish violins, by
which she earned a trifle every week. This was due to the kindness of
the chief manufacturer in the village, who, since her husband's death,
had supplied her regularly with some of the light work usually performed
by wo