nt, and who had five of as dirty children
as I ever saw at one time. We asked one little boy his age, which he
said was "fuenf," but we thought he must be older--no child could get
as dirty as that in five years!

I was left until almost the last, and when a pleasant-looking old
gentleman appeared upon the scene, I decided I would take a hand in
the choosing, so I said, "I'll go with you."

I was afraid there might be another large family, all with colds in
their heads, like the five which Clarke had drawn, waiting for me, so
that prompted me to choose this benevolent-looking old grandfather.

The old man took me home with him to one of the best houses in the
village, although there was not much difference between them. His
house was made of plaster which had been whitewashed, and had in it a
good-sized kitchen, where the family really lived, and an inner room
which contained a large picture of the Royal Family, all in uniform,
and very gorgeous uniforms, too. Even the young daughter had a
uniform which looked warlike enough for a Lieutenant-Colonel's. There
was also a desk in this room, where the father of the family--for
the old man who brought me in was the grandfather--conducted his
business. He was some sort of a clerk, probably the reeve of the
municipality, and did not work on the farm at all. There was a fine
home-made carpet on the floor, but the room was bare and cheerless,
with low ceiling, and inclined to be dark.

When we entered the kitchen, the family greeted me cordially, and I
sat down to dinner with them. There were three girls and one brother,
who was a soldier and home on leave.

Bromley went to work for a farmer on the other side of the
village, but I saw him each night, for we all went back to a large
three-storied building, which may once have been a boarding-house, to
sleep each night, the guard escorting us solemnly both to and from
work each day. This was a very good arrangement for us, too, for we
had to be through work and have our supper over by eight o'clock each
night.

After our prison diet, the meals we had here were ample and almost
epicurean. We had soup--the real thing--made from meat, with plenty
of vegetables; coffee with milk, but no sugar; cheese, homemade but
very good; meat, both beef and pork; eggs in abundance; but never any
pastry; and lots of potatoes, boiled in their skins, and fried.

There were plenty of fruit-trees, too, in Rossbach, growing along the
road, and,