u. God
bless thee." And with these words he set out once more.

How little they who roll on their journey with all the speed and
luxury that wealth can purchase, defying climate and distance, know the
vicissitudes that fall to the lot of the weary foot-traveller! From
city to city, from kingdom to kingdom, the rich man glides on, the great
panorama of life revealing itself before him, without an effort on
his part. The Alps--the Pyrenees, scarcely retard him; the luxuries he
requires meet him at every halting-place, as though difference of region
should not trench upon even his daily habits; his patience, perhaps, not
more tried than by the occasional stoppages where fresh horses meet
him. And yet, between two such stations a foot-traveller may spend
the live-long day, wearied, footsore, heavy of heart. What crosses
and trials are his! What strange adventures, too! and what strange
companionships! Each day a new episode of life--but of life over which
Poverty has thrown its shadow.

Fritz was now to experience all this; now, travelling with a company of
wandering apprentices; now, keeping company with a group of peasants
on the way to market; sometimes, partaking of a seat in a Bauer's
waggon--often, alone and weary, thinking over his future--a future, that
each day seemed to render more doubtful and gloomy.

As he penetrated deeper into the Zillerthal, the journeys of each day
became longer, the resting-places for the night being further apart;
sometimes he was obliged to stop a day, or even two days, at a village,
to recruit strength sufficient for a long march; and then, he would have
to walk from before daylight to late in the night ere he reached his
destination. His was not strength to endure fatigue like this with
impunity; and if he did encounter it, it was from an enthusiasm that
supplied energy, where mere bodily strength had failed. Two hopes buoyed
him up, and carried him along through every opposing difficulty. Whether
Star had escaped by accident, or been taken away by design, he was lame,
and would surely be soon caught; and if so, what more likely than that
he would be sent to Inspruck to be sold, for there was the greatest
bird-market of all the world? at least so Fritz believed. His second
sustaining hope lay in the prospect of once again meeting the old
Priest, and learning from him how was it that a "good word" had not
"brought luck" to him, and whether from any fault of his own.

These thoughts