"Oh, I can't. Listen! I hear some one coming. Who can it be?"

Hans jumped up and ran to the door, just in time to meet his Uncle
Fritz, who lived in Strasburg.

The children loved him dearly. He was a young man about twenty-one
years old. He came home to this little village in the Black Forest
only about once a year. He had so much to tell and was so kind and
cheerful, every one was glad to see him.

"Uncle Fritz! Uncle Fritz! We are so glad you've come," exclaimed
Bertha, putting her arms around his neck. "And we are going to have
something that you like for dinner."

"I can guess what it is. Sauerkraut and boiled pork. There is no
other sauerkraut in Germany as good as that your mother makes, I do
believe. I'm hungry enough to eat the whole dishful and not leave
any for you children. Now what do you say to my coming? Don't you
wish I had stayed in Strasburg?"

"Oh, no, no, Uncle Fritz. We would rather see you than anybody
else," cried Hans. "And here comes mother. She will be just as glad
as we are."

That evening, after Hans had shown his uncle around the village, and
he had called on his old friends, he settled himself in the
chimney-corner with the children about him.

"Talk to us about Strasburg, Uncle Fritz," begged Gretchen.