otions seemed to stop his utterance.

"She is so beautiful!" exclaimed Hans, fervently. "Except the Blessed
Maria at the Holy Cross, I never beheld such loveliness. There is the
Angelus ringing; let us pray a blessing on them;" and they both knelt
down in deep devotion. Frank's lips never moved, but with swelling heart
and clasped hands he remained fixed as a statue; while Hanserl in some
quaint old rhyme uttered his devotions.

"And yonder is the dog-star, bright and splendid," said Hans, as he
arose. "There never was a happier omen for the beginning of a journey.
You 'll be lucky, boy; there is the earnest of good fortune. That same
star was shining along the path as I entered Baden, eighteen years ago;
and see what a lucky life has mine been!"

Frank could not but smile at the poor dwarf's appreciation of his
fortune; but Hanserl's features wore a look that betokened a happy and
contented nature.

"And yours has been a lucky life, Hanserl?" said he, half in question.

"Lucky? ay, that has it. I was a poor boy, barefooted and hungry in my
native forest deformed, and stunted, too a thing to pity too weak to
work, and with none to teach me, and yet even I was not forgotten by Him
who made the world so fair and beautiful; but in my heart was planted
a desire to be something to do something, that others might benefit by.
The children used to mock me as I passed along the road; but a voice
whispered within me, 'Be of courage, Hanserl, they will bless thee yet,
they will greet thee with many a merry laugh and joyous cry, and call
thee their own kind Hanserl:' and so have I lived to see it! My name
is far and wide over Germany. Little boys and girls know and speak of
me amongst the first words they syllable; and from the palace to the
bauer's hut, Hans Roeckle has his friends; and who knows that when
this poor clay is mingled with the earth, but that my spirit will hover
around the Christmas-tree when glad voices call upon me! I often think
it will be so."

Frank's eyes glistened as he gazed upon the dwarf, who spoke with a
degree of emotion and feeling very different from his wont.

"So you see, Master Franz," said he, smiling, "there are ambitions of
every hue, and this of mine you may deem of the very faintest, but it
is enough for me. Had I been a great painter, or a poet, I would have
revelled in the thought that my genius adorned the walls of many a noble
palace, and that my verses kindled emotions in many a hea