ion. They both
played one and the same piece, but each according to his own manner. It
was both good and old.

They now began to draw lots, who should dance before the door of the
family and who before that of the steward; after which the two parties
drew lots for the musicians. The girls seated themselves in a row upon
the bench, from whence they were chosen. The gallantry accorded with the
ball-room,--the hard stone pavement. Not even had the grass been pulled
up, but that would be all right after dancing there the first day. "Nay,
why art thou sitting there?" spoken with a kind of morose friendliness,
was the invitation to dance; and this served for seven dances. "Only
don't be melancholy!" resounded from the company, and now the greater
portion moved phlegmatically along, as if in sleep or in a forced dance:
the girl with her eyes staring at her own feet, her partner with his
head bent toward one side, and his eyes in a direct line with the girl's
head-dress. A few of the most active exhibited, it is true, a kind of
animation, by stamping so lustily upon the stone pavement that the dust
whirled up around them. That was a joy! a joy which had occupied them
many weeks, but as yet the joy had not reached its height; "but that
will soon come!" said Wilhelm, who, with his sister and Otto, had taken
his place at an open window.

The old people meanwhile kept to the ale-barrels, and the brandy. The
latter was offered to the girls, and they were obliged, at least, to
sip. Wilhelm soon discovered the prettiest, and threw them roses. The
girls immediately sprang to the spot to collect the flowers: but the
cavaliers also wished to have them, and they were the stronger;
they, therefore, boldly pushed the ladies aside, so that some seated
themselves on the stone pavement and got no roses: that was a merry bit
of fun! "Thou art a foolish thing! It fell upon thy shoulder and thou
couldst not catch it!" said the first lover to his lady, and stuck the
rose into his waistcoat-pocket.

All got partners--all the girls; even the children, they leaped about to
their own singing out upon the bridge. Only ONE stood forlorn,--Sidsel,
with the grown-together eyebrows; she smiled, laughed aloud; no one
would become her partner. Peter Cripple handed his violin to one of the
young men and asked him to play, for he himself wished to stretch his
legs a little. The girls drew back and talked with each other; but Peter
Cripple stepped quietly fo