It is doubtful whether this tale should be considered a juvenile story or not. The hero is a child, and upon this child the chief interest of the narrative concentrates, but in many respects it is written for mature minds. It is a graphic, simple, and touching tale of unusual power, that may be read with pleasure by old and young alike.
artina, in my eyes you are a widow, and a worthy woman'--Yes, said I, but my husband is not dead; I grieve that you like me, as I cannot marry you--no! such a thought is far from my heart."
Martina could not close her eyes, but lay anxiously awaiting the dawn of day--sometimes sleep seemed about to take compassion on her, but scarcely had she closed her eyes, than she started up again--she thought she heard the voice of Adam's mother, the stormy Röttmännin, and saw her sharp sarcastic face, and Martina whispered sadly to herself:--"Oh! when will it be light!"
A DUET INTERRUPTED, AND RESUMED.
At the very same hour that the child in the attic woke up and was so restless, two candles and a lamp were burning in the sitting-room of the parsonage, and three people were seated comfortably at a round table: these were the clergyman, his wife, and her brother, a young farmer. The room was pleasantly warm, and in the pauses
