half an hour. These little German girls had to study longer and
harder than their American cousins. They spent at least an hour a
day more in their schoolrooms.

As they trudged along the road, they passed a little stream which
came trickling down the hillside.

"I wonder if there is any story about that brook," said Bertha.
"There's a story about almost everything in our dear old country, I'm
sure."

"You have heard father tell about the stream flowing down the side of
the Kandel, haven't you?" asked Gretchen.

"Yes, I think so. But I don't remember it very well. What is the
story, Gretchen?"

"You know the Kandel is one of the highest peaks in the Black Forest.
You've seen it, Bertha."

"Yes, of course, but tell the story, Gretchen."

"Well, then, once upon a time there was a poor little boy who had no
father or mother. He had to tend cattle on the side of the Kandel.
At that time there was a deep lake at the summit of the mountain.
But the lake had no outlet.

"The people who lived in the valley below often said, 'Dear me! how
glad we should be if we could only have plenty of fresh water. But
no stream flows near us. If we could only bring some of the water