days, I assure you, I ate nothing else. It was a thinning process, but the disease had been mastered. I then ate what I liked."

We now entered the summer-house, and ascending a winding stair, found ourselves on a pretty balcony commanding a lovely view of hill and vale and wood, with here and there a village scattered between; the grey old towers of Schloss Neubert standing out boldly against the deep sky.

"A quiet, monotonous existence is that of a German baron," said the Count, musingly. "Unlike your busy London life, Mr. Lightfoot."

"But a pleasant one," papa replied. "I should be quite content to end my days in that fine old Schloss. There is something patriarchal and delightful too, in living among your own people, in dining off the products of your woods and fields, in drinking the wine of your own vineyards, and in being, as the baron of old, the benefactor, and so to say, parent of your villagers."

"But they are such stupid sons and daughters generally, dear Mr. Lightfoot," said the Countess, laughingly; "silly Suabia is proverbial in Germany, you know, and the life is a little dull, unless one has plenty of visitors. Oh! I am

very glad to be on the way to Frankfort or Berlin in autumn, I assure you."

"What is a German village composed of?" said papa. "Squire, clergyman, doctor, lawyer, head farmer, tradesmen, peasants?"

"Oh dear, no; we have fewer grades. The baron takes the place of the squire, the pastor represents the professional class, and the head steward, or Amtmann, stands between it and the peasantry, or Bauern. Wirtemberg pastor-life is

6

very simple. A poet of your own has drawn a picture something like it in his 'Deserted Village,' where the good old pastor is counted rich on forty pounds a year.' Forty or fifty pounds per annum is as much as the country clergy ever obtain here, and indeed is ample for their wants. Besides this sum, moreover, the baron is obliged to supply them with a certain amount of wood from his forest and wine from his cellar, by way of tithe. A pastor can hardly be poor in so cheap a country; then he has a house rentfree, and a garden, which he cultivates himself."

"But you have surely a schoolmaster; a German village without a schoolmaster would be like a German pastoral without a windmill," said Mill.

"Ah! I forgot the schoolmaster, who stands next to the Amtmann, or steward, and head-forester. He is generally rather a learned Dominie Sampson sort of character, trying to impose his pedantry on everybody, and delighting in argument and apple-wine. Give our good Mumm a quart of apple-wine and a pipe, and he'll philosophize for three hours on the most difficult questions."

"And the Amtmann and forester. Please describe these to us," added papa.

"The Amtmann is always an ambitious character, trying to get up in the world, aping the baron in a small way, giving his children a French bonne, because our children have one, &c. &c. The head-forester is always a hearty, cheery, plain-spoken, trustworthy soul, ready to be saucy at any time, but never ready to deceive or fawn or lie. I look upon my head-forester as a real friend, and I am sure he would cut off his right hand for me or my children.”

"Or for me too," put in the Countess.

is quite as fond of me, I'm sure."

"Dear old Fritz

"Undoubtedly, my dear. He's a splendid fellow, and such a child of nature, Mr. Lightfoot; I think no child was ever more simple and genuine than he. You should hear him sing, or talk to his dogs and horses, when he thinks no one is by. Nature is the best educator of the heart. Mountains, skies, and vast forests can only teach good and innocent lessons-well for our young people, if they had more of their teaching before entering the world. But let us go into the village, and see something of our neighbours."

The village consisted of a narrow street of low-roofed houses, painted pink or green, and of far tidier appearance than those we had seen at Marbach. A little church, shaped like a flat scent-bottle with a pointed stopper, stood in the centre, flanked on the right by the Pfarr-house, and on the left by the village school. The Count took us into the latter, where we found the worthy Mumm lecturing thirty boys and girls of various ages on the wide difference existing between the governments of Greece and Rome.

When we entered, a pleased look of self-consciousness passed over his whole face, and after many reverences he proposed pursuing the lesson.

"It gives my pupils so much more assiduity, Herr Baron," he said, "when you and your company are present, and I hope my theories will be found to agree with your

own."

"Will you kindly examine them in spelling instead, my good Mumm," said the Count, good-naturedly, "or in arithmetic, or something practical? I have before told you that I don't care for philosophical history; and you are particularly successful in teaching the two former things."

So Mr. Mumm called up a dozen of the elder children,

and examined them in such a manner as to convince us that, though he adored Aristotle, he was not indifferent to the merits of orthography and ciphering.

We then called at the Pfarr-house, where we found the family, consisting of the pastor, his wife, and three children, taking supper of potatoes, black bread, and hot sausages, in the garden. They welcomed us cordially, accompanied us up the church-tower to see a stork's nest, and showed us a large barrel of apple-wine, just made from the windfalls of their orchard.

"I am quite tired after so much crushing and rolling of apples," said the pastor; "we were busy the whole morning, and have got another quantity to make to-morrow. Do taste my apple-wine, Herr Baron."

We all had a sip from the Count's beaker, and then returned to the Schloss through a beautiful little wood. Supper, chess, bagatelle, conundrums, and music finished the happy day.

I must not stop to enumerate all the occurrences of our never-to-be-forgotten visit to Schloss Neubert, or I should write a whole book. In the mornings, Jessie amused herself with books and work, whilst Rosalie was busy at lessons, and Harry, rather than be separated from Hermann and Ferdinand, joined them in their studies. The Countess had appropriated a beautiful airy set of rooms for our use, all of which were furnished as drawing-rooms and bed-chambers also, having writing-tables, book-shelves, sofas, wardrobes, &c.

It was my morning's amusement to wander from one room to another, till I grew quite intimate with the contents of all. Uncle John, papa, and Millison took rides with the Count; and at two o'clock we all met in the dining-room, to spend the rest of the day in drives, walks, pic-nics, and home-pleasures. A happy, happy time, and ah! how

quickly it passed!

Auf wiedersehen!" cried our kind friends, as we took leave; "till we meet again-which we hope will be before many years. A happy journey. Auf wiedersehen!"

And we waved handkerchiefs and kissed hands till the old Schloss had disappeared behind the trees.

MIDSIE.

CHAPTER XXI.

A REAL PRINCESS'S STORY.

E are now on the way from Mannheim to Worms, and I, Jessie, have got leave to add my little chapter.

W

Papa says this is to be printed.

I am

writing, oh! so carefully, and yet I cannot

keep my hand from shaking at the long downstrokes of the h's and l's. He was a naughty man who invented those

letters-they make one's hand shake so.

The Rhine is very pretty, and I like travelling very much. When I get home to Amy, I have lots to tell her about the beautiful toys at Frankfort; the curious things we have for dinner on the steamers. But oh! she will love fifty