:
"bare feet, wet to the very skin; and then the elder one will certainly
lead him to brandy drinking! Within a month, perhaps, the voice will
be gone! Then is the nightingale dead!" He quickly threw down some
skillings, wrapped in paper.

"Come up!" cried Wilhelm, and beckoned. The eldest of the boys flew up
like an arrow; Wilhelm, however, said it was the youngest who was meant.
The others remained standing before the door; the youngest stepped in.

"Whose son art thou?" asked Wilhelm. The boy was silent, and cast down
his eyes in an embarrassed manner. "Now, don't be bashful! Thou art of
a good family--that one can see from thy appearance! Art not thou thy
mother's son? I will give thee stockings and--the deuce! here is a pair
of boots which are too small for me; if thou dost not get drowned in
them they shall be thy property: but now thou must sing." And he seated
himself at the piano-forte and struck the keys. "Now, where art thou?"
he cried, rather displeased. The little one gazed upon the ground.

"How! dost thou weep; or is it the rain which hangs in thy black
eyelashes?" said Otto, and raised his head: "we only wish to do thee a
kindness. There--thou hast another skilling from me."

The little one still remained somewhat laconic. All that they learned
was that he was named Jonas, and that his grandmother thought so much of
him.

"Here thou hast the stockings!" said Wilhelm; "and see here! a coat with
a velvet collar, a much-to-be-prized keepsake! The boots! Thou canst
certainly stick both legs into one boot! See! that is as good as having
two pairs to change about with! Let us see!"

The boy's eyes sparkled with joy; the boots he drew on, the stockings
went into his pocket, and the bundle he took under his arm.

"But thou must sing us a little song!" said Wilhelm, and the little one
commenced the old song out of the "Woman-hater," "Cupid never can be
trusted!"

The lively expression in the dark eyes, the boy himself in his wet,
wretched clothes and big boots, with the bundle under his arm; nay, the
whole had something so characteristic in it, that had it been painted,
and had the painter called the picture "Cupid on his Wanderings," every
one would have found the little god strikingly excellent, although he
were not blind.

"Something might be made of the boy and of his voice!" said Wilhelm,
when little Jonas, in a joyous mood, had left the house with the other
lads.

"The poor child!" sighed Otto.