ting the horses so that they fairly flew up the castle-hill,
while sparks of fire were flying from their hoofs."

"How can you tell such rubbish, Kurt? How should there be something
unnatural in such a sight?" the mother scolded him. "I am sure you think
that the Wildenstein ghost is wandering about again. You can see every
day that horses' hoofs give out sparks when they strike stone, and to see
a coachman with a rolled up collar in windy weather is not an unusual
sight either. In spite of all I say to you, Kurt, you seem to do nothing
but occupy yourself with this matter. Can't you let the foolish people
talk without repeating it all the time?"

Kurt was very glad when Mea entered at that moment, for he had really
disobeyed his mother's repeated instructions in the matter. But he
comforted himself with the thought that he was only acting according to
her ideas if he was finally able to prove to the people that the whole
thing was a pure invention and could get rid of the whole thing for good.

"Why are your eyes all swollen?" he accosted his sister.

Mea exploded now. Half angry and half complaining, she still had to
fight against her tears. "Oh, mother, if you only knew how difficult it
is to stay friends with Elvira. Whenever I do anything to offend her,
she sulks and won't have anything to do with me for days. When I want to
tell her something and run towards her, speaking a little hurriedly, she
is hurt. Then she always says I spoil the flowers on her hat because I
shake them. And then she turns her back on me and won't even speak to
me."

"Indeed! I have seen that long ago," Kurt broke in, "and I began a song
about her yesterday. It ought to be sung to her. I'll recite it to you:

A SONG ABOUT A WELL KNOWN YOUNG LADY.

I know a maiden fair of face,
Who mostly turns her back.
All noise she thinks a great disgrace,
But tricks she does not lack.

"No, Kurt, you mustn't go on with that song," Mea cried with indignation.

"Mea is right when she doesn't want you to celebrate her friends in that
way, Kurt," said the mother, "and if she asks you to, you must leave
off."

"But I am her brother and I do not wish to see my sister being tyranized
over and treated badly by a friend. I certainly wouldn't call her a real
friend," Kurt eagerly exclaimed. "I should be only too glad if my song
made her so angry that she would break the friendship entirely. There
would be nothing to mourn over."

M