A Tale of the Kloster

he sun beg

beams, me, G

alks of twi

brown, that

or monume

de axe with

ard the nymp

m from their

ose covert,

rofaner ey

om day's g

Pens

visitant, of earth or heaven, child or cherub-I scarce could believe mine own senses! In truth, I know not how long I knelt there, mouth agape, eyes wide open and hands outstretched. But finally I recovered myself sufficiently to see that miracle or no miracle, the being was a reality. And then brushing aside the leaves I scrutinized the little foundling more closely; for sleeping it was, as sweetly and trustfully as if in the Mutterchen's arms, instead of on the hard bosom of mother earth with a wilderness about it. The little head with its tangled mass of dark, silky hair was resting against a large, sheltering root

uth I

I knelt

ge

es to Him I implored and beseeched him, with all the power I could put into my petition, to guide and direct me in the care and conduct of this lost, orphaned one; for somehow-I never knew why-I accepted the idea unhes

ly refrained lest my heavy voice arouse the sleeper and mayhap drive far from me the cheerful songsters. A saucy red squirrel with waving, rearward plume came down the old pine, stopping now and then to bark defiance at sleeper and watcher. Still nearer the red rover came, his proud plume fairly quivering with excitement. Once he rushed down in a bur

d squirrel in precipitate flight far into the depths of the forest and also drove me into a state verging upon imbecility; for verily I knew not what to do. The more I tried to soothe the child, the louder it yelled and truly my patience was tried most sorely. But I have since learned that the cry of a

thought-what sounded to me like "Tass." "Tass what?" I insisted gently, but he only replied more firmly as he rose to his feet holding on to my hand, "No Tass Wot, Tass!" And then as if a great thought had come to him he said proudly, "Me gone be man some day; me find faver." "Very well, 'Tass,' where's Mutterchen-I mean mother, mamma?" But the mention of "mamma" was too much for the ove

for some time decide; for I did not recollect that I had ever heard such a word in German, or English, or Latin, or Greek, or Hebrew, or any other language. At last it struck me it was an English baby word for milk. But I hardly knew how to get him that, since I kept no cows or goats. In short, in my hermit's life I never saw any milk and I could not run the risk of destroying the child's stomach with my acorn coffee; yet I did not know how to get him

e it seemed bare and cold and cheerless. I ventured a small piece of a loaf of acorn bread on which my teeth had been paying penance

tton?" as I respected his request by handing him such a generous portion o

nd me and fastening it so, as I thought, that such a small child could not open it, I marched forth t

and some smoked meat of the pig, besides giving me a jug of fresh milk, the good sister remarked with that inquisitive hunger for

back as I started off rapidly, "Yea, a little, not much," leaving the good sister st

ly as he had come? I rushed into the cabin letting my load fairly fall from me as I looked about everywhere and into the most foolish places for this strange child. Then out again and to the old pine where I had first found him; but he was not there; back again toward the hut,

illed himself so full with milk and meat and the fresh rye bread that I was greatly alarmed immediately lest he might become ill from his gorging; but he minded it not in the least and ere m

ted me by calling me "faver," which in later years he changed to the more affectionate Vaterchen. I tried almost every day for a long while to get him to tell me his name, but beyond assuring me it was "Tass," I never could learn anything. At first, I

t in pretty red letters the initials "C. S.," but beyond this there was absolutely nothing about the cloak or any of the child's clothing in which I found him, to t