so sweetly, Marie! Dear me, in the old days at Grüsch, how often I have
heard that song of the spinning-wheels. You have forgotten the old days,
Marie, though you remember the song."

"Give me my letter, Wärli, and go about your work," said Marie,
pretending to be impatient. But all the same her eyes looked extremely
friendly. There was something very winning about the hunchback's face.

"Ah, ah! Marie," he said, shaking his curly head; "I know how it is
with you: you only like people in fine binding. They have not always
fine hearts."

"What nonsense you talk Wärli!" said Marie "There, just hand me the
oil-can. You can fill this lamp for me. Not too full, you goose! And
this one also, ah, you're letting the oil trickle down! Why, you're
not fit for anything except carrying letters! Here, give me my letter."

"What pretty flowers," said Wärli. "Now if there is one thing I do like,
it is a flower. Can you spare me one, Marie? Put one in my button-hole,
do!"

"You are a nuisance this afternoon," said Marie, smiling and pinning a
flower on Wärli's blue coat. Just then a bell rang violently.

"Those Portuguese ladies will drive me quite mad," said Marie. "They
always ring just when I am enjoying myself?"

"When you, an enjoying yourself!" said Wärli triumphantly.

"Of course," returned Marie; "I always do enjoy cleaning the oil-lamps;