Their shoes were coarse and heavy, and made a good deal of noise as
the children played the different games. But they were all so plump
and rosy, it was good to look at them.

"They are a pretty sight," said one of the neighbours, as she poured
out the coffee.

"They deserve to have a good time," said another woman with a kind,
motherly face. "They will soon grow up, and then they will have to
work hard to get a living."

The coffee and cakes were a great treat to these village children.
They did not get such a feast every day in the year. Their mothers
made cakes only for festivals and holidays, and coffee was seldom
seen on their tables oftener than once a week.

In the great cities and fine castles, where the rich people of
Germany had their homes, they could eat sweet dainties and drink
coffee as often as they liked. But in the villages of the Black
Forest, it was quite different.

"Good night, good night," said Hans and Bertha, as they left their
friends and trudged off on a path through the woods. It was the
shortest way home, and they knew their mother must be looking for
them by this time.

It was just sunset, but the children could not see the beautiful
colours of the evening sky, after they had gone a short distance into
the thick woods.