aid: "Come along, Waldl!" and then turning to Hansei, she continued:
"Don't drive the child away! It's a good sign when a young boy goes
along to the christening; the child will get a husband so much the
sooner, and who knows but--" Hansei laughed to find that they were
already thinking of a mate for his daughter.

While moving along in silent procession, they beheld another good omen.
A swallow flew directly over the heads of the grandmother and the
child, whereupon the former opened her great red umbrella and held it
over herself and the babe.

Walpurga, unable to accompany them on their long walk to church, was
obliged to remain at home. Her friend Stasi, who, on the previous
Sunday, had altered the prayer for the queen in Walpurga's favor,
remained to bear her company. Walpurga, seated in grandmother's
arm-chair, looked out of the latticed window, at the violets, the
buttercups, and the rosemary, the peaceful lake and the blue skies,
while she listened to the sound of the church bell.

"This is the first time my babe goes out into the wide, wide world, and
I'm not with it," said she; "and some day I shall go into the other
world and never be with it again. And still I feel as if it was with me
all the same."

"I don't know what makes you so downhearted today," said her companion;
"if that comes o' getting married, I'll never have a husband."

"Nonsense!" curtly replied Walpurga; her meaning was plain enough. Soon
afterward, she added in a voice tremulous with emotion: "I'm not
downhearted. It's only this. I just feel as if the baby and I had been
both born over again. I don't know how it is, but I feel as if I were
another person. Just think of it! In all my life, I've never lain abed
so quietly and peacefully as I've been doing these many days. And to be
lying there perfectly well, and with nothing to do but think and sleep,
and awake again, and nurse the baby, while kind folks are forever
bringing whatever heart can wish for--I tell you, if I'd been a hermit
in the woods for seven years, I couldn't have done more thinking. It
would keep me busy day and night to tell you all. But what's that?"
said she, suddenly interrupting herself; "just then it seemed as if the
whole house were shaking."

"I didn't notice anything. But your face is enough to give one the
blues. Let's sing something. Just try whether you're still our best
singer."

Her companion insisting, Walpurga at last began to sing, but soon
stopped