w, gathered up an armful of hay,
placed it on the pile of stones by the wayside, and seated his wife
upon it.

"I feel better, already," said the wife.

"Don't talk now, rest yourself! Oh! dear me; if only a wagon were to
come along; but there's neither man nor beast in sight. Just take a
good rest, and then I'll carry you home. You're not too heavy for me.
I've carried heavier loads many a time."

"Do you mean to carry me, in broad daylight?" said the wife, laughing
so heartily that she was obliged to rest her hand on the stones, to
support herself. "You dear, good fellow! Much obliged, but there's no
need of it. I'm all right now, and can walk." She got up briskly, and
Hansei's face was radiant with joy.

"Thank God! Here comes the doctor, in the very nick of time."

The doctor, who lived in the neighboring town, was just turning the
corner. Hansei raised his hat and requested him to take his wife into
the carriage. He gladly consented, but Walpurga seemed loth to get in.

"I never rode in a carriage in all my life," said she, repeatedly.

"Everything must be tried, you know," said the doctor, laughing, as he
assisted her into the carriage. He told the husband that he might get
up on the box, but he declined.

"I'll drive slowly," said the doctor.

Hansei walked along by the side of the carriage, constantly casting
happy glances at his wife.

"Now we're two thousand paces from home; now we're a thousand," said
he, talking to himself, while his glances showed his gratitude to the
doctor, to the carriage that was kind enough to allow his wife to sit
in it; and even to the horse from which he brushed the troublesome
flies.

"Hansei is doing the horse a kindness," said the doctor to the young
wife. She did not answer, and the doctor looked pleased with the
husband, whom he had known for a long while as a wood-cutter in the
royal forest. Hansei carried his hat in his hand and would now and then
with his sleeve wipe the perspiration from his brow. His face was
sunburnt and void of expression, and, as he had not been a soldier, he
wore no mustache. A shaggy beard, extending from his temples, encircled
his long face; his forehead was, for the greater part, covered with
thick, light hair; his short leather breeches displayed his great
knees; the clocked, knitted leggins must surely have been a gift from
his wife; the heavy hobnailed shoes had been used in many a mountain
walk. Hansei walked along, beside the coac