Away, out of my sight!” The dogs dropped their tails and sneaked off to their kennels; Grandmother, forgetting that it was yet early, went into the bed-room to tell her daughter of the misfortune.

When Mr. Proshek saw her pale face and tearful eyes, he thought that the burglars must have broken into the store - room, or that Barunka was dead; but when he heard the whole story, he could scarcely refrain from smiling. What were a few ducklings to him! He had not “set” them; he had not seen them break through their shells; he did not know how pretty they were as they swam in the water, at times hiding their little heads and showing their pretty pink feet, — to him they were nothing but so many roasts. For all that, he arose and went to administer justice. Taking the heavy horsewhip from its hook, he proceeded to give the dogs something that they would not be apt to forget. When Grandmother heard the noise, she placed her hands upon her ears; but she said: “It can’t be helped, they must be made to remember it!” When, however, an hour later, they still stayed in their kennels, she went out to see if they were harmed. ^ What’s gone is gone, and after all they are only dumb brutes,” she said as she looked inside. The dogs moaned and crawled to her feet upon their bellies, looking so mournful that she said: “Now you are sorry, are you not? See, thus it happens to such rascals; remember it.” And they did remember it. Whenever the ducklings wabbled about the yard, the dogs hung their heads and skulked away, and this seeming penitence again won them Grandmother’s favor.

When the poultry was fed, Grandmother called the servants, if they were not yet up. After six o’clock she went to call the children. She rapped gently upon Barunka’s forehead — the soul is thus awakened the soonest — and whispered: “Little maiden, it is time to arise?” She helped her to dress and then went to call the rest of the little ones. If she found them awake and lounging about in bed, she spanked them, saying: “Up, up, the cock has marched twice around the yard, and you are still in bed. Are you not ashamed?” When they were up, she helped them to wash, but she never could learn how to dress them. These curiously made clothes, with all their straps, hooks, buttons and buckles, were beyond her comprehension. As soon as they were ready, they knelt before the picture of Christ and said The Lord’s Prayer. Then they went to breakfast.

In the winter, when there was no regular work to do, Grandmother sat in her room with her spinning; but in the summer, she took her work into the orchard, or into the yard, where stood the large linden, or she went out walking with the children. During her walks she gathered herbs, which she dried and put away for future use. In all her life she had never had a physician. She also used to get a large supply of herbs from an old dame who came from the Sudetic mountains. When the herb-dame came, she was always entertained at The Old Bleachery. She brought the children a bunch of sneezewort, and the housekeeper fragrant herbs and moss for the window sills. But the children enjoyed most the wonderful tales which she related about a certain prince, named Rybercol, that great hero that played such pranks upon those mountains. Somewhere, hidden away in the forests lived a princess named Katharine, and Rybercol was in love with her. His journeys to and from the princess were marked by great horrors. When she called, he rushed to her with such delight that everything that came in his path and hindered his progress was destroyed. Trees were broken and torn up by the roots; the roofs of houses and barns were carried away by the hurricane caused by his headlong speed; great boulders were hurled down the sides of the mountain, destroying cottages, and at times killing the inhabitants; in a word, his pathway was marked by destruction as if the hand of the Lord had passed over it in vengeance. Although this prince rushed to his beloved with such joy, she did not allow him to remain, but after a time drove him away, when he wept so hard that all the streams overflowed and there was danger of an inundation.

The herb-dame brought each year the same herbs and the same stories; but they always seemed new to the children, who looked for her coming with eager anticipation. As soon as the meadow saffron was seen in the fields, they said: “Now the herb-dame from the mountains will come;” and if her arrival was delayed, Grandmother would say: “What has happened to our Granny? I hope she has not been afflicted with illness, or that she is not dead!” Thus she was the constant theme of conversation till she again made her appearance in the yard, with the large basket upon her back.

Sometimes Grandmother took the children out for long walks, either to the gamekeeper’s or the miller’s, or wandered about with them in the woods. There the birds sang sweetly, the ground was covered with leaves, making a soft bed, the air was fragrant from the lilies of the valley and the violets, and there they could gather primroses, wild pinks, thyme, and those beautiful Turk’s cap-lilies. The last was the favorite flower of the pale Victorka, who brought it to the children whenever she saw them gathering flowers.