eeming to enjoy very much her exalted
station, and their surprise at it.

Knock, knock, knock went the rapper of the street gate.

"It is my wife!" "It is my mistress!" exclaimed master and man in the
same breath.

The door was quickly unfastened, and there, truly, stood the mistress
of the mansion, enveloped in her shroud.

"Are you alive or dead?" exclaimed the astonished husband.

"Alive, my dear, but very cold," she murmured faintly, her teeth
chattering the while, as those of one in a fever chill; "help me to my
chamber."

He caught her in his arms and covered her with kisses. Then he bore
her to her chamber, and called up the whole house to welcome and
assist her. She suffered a little from fatigue and fright, but in a
few days was very much recovered.

The thing became the talk of the town, and hundreds flocked daily to
see, not alone the lady that was rescued from the grave in so
remarkable a manner, but also the grey mare which had so strangely
contrived to get into the garret.

The excellent lady lived long and happily with her husband, and at her
death was laid once more in her old resting-place. The grey mare,
after resting in the garret three days, was got down by means of
scaffolding, safe and sound. She survived her mistress for some time,
and was a general favourite in the city, and when she died her skin
was stuffed, and placed in the arsenal as a curiosity. The sexton went
mad with the fright he had sustained, and in a short time entered that
bourn whence he had so unintentionally recovered the burgomaster's
wife.

Not only was this memorable circumstance commemorated in the Church of
the Apostles, but it was also celebrated in _bassi relievi_ figures on
the walls of the burgomaster's residence--the sign of the Parroquet in
the New Marckt. The searcher after antiquities will, however, look in
vain for either. They are not now to be found. Modern taste has
defaced the porch where stood the one, and erected a shapeless
structure on the site of the other.

THE WATER SPIRIT.

About the middle of the sixteenth century, when Zuendorf was no larger
than it is at present, there lived at the end of the village, hard by
the church, one of that useful class of women termed midwives. She was
an honest, industrious creature, and what with ushering the new-born
into life, and then assisting in making garments for them, she
contrived to creep through the world in comfort, if not in complete
ha