was one weaver, Mathias, very bony, and with
a skin like parchment, very poor, but blessed with many children. He
related of a bet he had won. The owner of the tavern where we were
having our feast had expressed doubt as to the ability of Mathias to
consume three pounds of pork at once. He volunteered to do it, if the
meat would be paid for and a quantity of beer added to it. A neighbor
was intrusted with the preparation of the roast. At the appointed hour
Mathias appeared, together with two other men as witnesses of the
contest. The prize eating began, when Mathias was confronted by an
obstacle: Five children belonging to the neighbor surrounded the table,
with their eyes widely opened at the unusual sight of a roast. Their
little faces expressed great desire and their mouths began to water. The
prize eater felt very uncomfortable before the longing look of the
children. He imagined himself a hard-hearted guzzler, only concerned
about his own stomach. He forgot the bet, cut up some of the meat and
was about to place it before the children, when a howl of protest arose.
This was not permitted, if he wanted to win he would have to eat the
entire roast himself. Mathias submitted, but dropped his eyes in shame
before the children. Time and again he involuntarily passed portions of
meat to them, but his attempts were frustrated by renewed protests. He
could not continue, however, until the little ones were taken out into
the cold. There was no other place, since the only room was taken up by
the parties concerned in the contest. They might have been put into the
cold, dark garret, but that would have been too cruel and would have
made Mathias unable to carry out the feat. The undertaking was
finished, but the winner felt quite wretched; he was conscious of having
committed a great sin against the simplest of human demands.

The conversation turned to the uprising of the weavers in 1844. Many
incidents of those days were related. Various legend-like and fantastic
stories told. Also names of people of the neighborhood who had
participated in that historic event.

The entire affair was very informal and simple, and not an atom of the
oppressive atmosphere one feels in the relations between the members of
the upper and lower stations of life.

The next morning we started for Kaschbach. The place looked even more
dismal than the one we had visited the day previous. In one of the huts
a weaver, with a swollen arm in a sling, le