"She came amongst us a mere child," said
he, " and speedily attached herself to me. I
contrived to learn enough of her dialect to
understand and talk to her, and at last she began
to regard me as a father, and even called me
such. It was a long long time before I could
bear this. Every time I heard the word my grief
would burst out afresh; but what won't time
do? I have come to like it now."

"And is she good, and gentle, and affectionate?"
asked I.

"She is far too good and true-hearted to be
in such company as ours. Would that some rich
person—it should be a lady—kind, and gentle,
and compassionate, could see her and take her
away from such associates, and this life of
shame, ere it be too late. If I have a sorrow
left me now, it is for her."

I was silent, for though the wish only seemed
fair and natural enough on his part, I could not
help thinking how improbable such an incident
would prove.

"She would well repay it all," said he. " If
ever there was a nature rich in great gifts, it is
hers. She can learn whatever she will, and for
a word of kindness she would hold her hand in
the fire lor you. Hush!" whispered he, " she is
stirring. What is it, darling?" said he, creeping
close to her, as she lay throwing her arms wildly
open, but not removing the handkerchief from
her face.

She muttered something hurriedly, and then
burst into a laugh so joyous and so catching,
it was impossible to refrain from joining
in it.

She threw back the kerchief at once and
started to her knees, gazing steadfastly, almost
sternly, at me. I saw that the old man
comprehended the inquiry of her glance, and as
quickly whispered a few words in her ear. She
listened till he had done, and then springing
towards me, she caught my hand and kissed
it.

I suspect he must have rebuked the ardour of
her movement, for she hung her head despondingly,
and turned away from us both.

"Now for the road once more," said Vaterchen,
"for if we stay much longer here, we shall
have the forest flies, which are always worse
towards evening."

It was not without great difficulty I could
prevent his carrying my knapsack for me, and
even the girl herself would gladly have borne
some of my load. At last, however, we set
forth, Tintefleck lightening the way with a
merry canzonette, that had the time of a quick
step.

CHAPTER XXXI.

WHAT a pleasant little dinner we had that
day. It was laid out in a little summer-house
of the inn garden. All overgrown with a fine
old fig-tree, through whose leaves the summer
wind played deliciously, while a tiny rivulet
rippled close by, and served to cool our
"Achten-thaler"—an amount of luxury that
made Tintefleck quite wild with laughter.

"Is it cold enough?" she asked, archly, in
her peasant-dialect, each time the old man laid
down his glass.

As I came gradually to pick up the
occasional meaning of her words—a process which
her expressive pantomime greatly aided—I was
struck by the marvellous acuteness of a mind
so totally without culture, and I could not help
asking Vaterchen why he had never attempted
to instruct her.

"What can I do?" said he, despondently;
"there are no books in the only language she
knows, and the only language she will
condescend to speak. She can understand Italian,
and I have read stories for her, and sonnets too,
out of Leopardi, but though she will listen in
all eagerness till they are finished, no sooner
over than she breaks out into some wild
Calabrian song, and asks me is it not worth all
the fine things I have been giving her, thrice
told."

"Could you not teach her to write?"

"I tried that. I bought a slate, and I made
a bargain with her, that she should have a
scarlet knot for her hair when she could ask
me for it in written words. Well, all seemed to
go on prosperously for a time; we had got
through half the alphabet very successfully,
till we came to the letter H. This made her
laugh immediately, it was so like a scaffold we
had in the circus for certain exercises; and no
sooner had I marked down the letter, than she
snatched the pencil from me, and drew the
figure of a man on each bar of the letter. From
that hour forth, as though her wayward humour
had been only imprisoned, she burst forth into
every imaginable absurdity at our lessons.
Every ridiculous event of our daily life she
drew, and with a rapidity almost incredible. I
was not very apt, as you may imagine, in
acquiring the few accomplishments they thought
to give me, and she caricatured me under all
my difficulties."

"Si, si," broke she in at this; for, with a
wonderful acuteness, she could trace something
of a speaker's meaning, where every word was
unknown to her. As she spoke she arose, and
fled down the garden at top speed.

"Why has she gone? Is she displeased at
your telling me all these things about her?"
asked I.

"Scarcely that; she loves to be noticed.
Nothing really seems to pain her so much as when
she is passed over unremarked. When such an
event would occur in the circus, I have seen
her sob through her sleep all the night after.
I half suspect now that she is piqued at the
little notice you have bestowed upon her. All
the better if it be so."

"But here she comes again."

With the same speed she now came back
to us, holding her slate over her head, and showing
that she rightly interpreted what the old
man had said of her.

"Now for my turn!" said Vaterchen, with a
smile. " She is never weary of drawing me in
every absurd and impossible posture."