"That is so," Ulrich agreed. "I have often said the same unto myself.
It would be pleasant to feel one was not working merely for oneself."

"Elsa, now," went on the Herr Pfarrer, "she is a good child, pious and
economical. The price of such is above rubies."

Ulrich"s face lightened with a pleasant smile. "Aye, Elsa is a good
girl," he answered. "Her little hands--have you ever noticed them,
Herr Pastor--so soft and dimpled."

The Pfarrer pushed aside his empty pot and leaned his elbows on the
table.

"I think--I do not think--she would say no. Her mother, I have reason
to believe-- Let me sound them--discreetly." The old pastor's red
face glowed redder, yet with pleasurable anticipation; he was a born
matchmaker.

But Ulrich the wheelwright shuffled in his chair uneasily.

"A little longer," he pleaded. "Let me think it over. A man should
not marry without first being sure he loves. Things might happen. It
would not be fair to the maiden."

The Herr Pfarrer stretched his hand across the table and laid it upon
Ulrich's arm.

"It is Hedwig; twice you walked home with her last week."

"It is a lonesome way for a timid maiden; and there is the stream to