know your father. Suppose I should tell him what you have just said
about his dying and your father getting the position?"

The eyes of Franz filled with tears and he looked alarmed.

"Don't be anxious, my boy. I know you meant no harm, but I wish to warn
you to be careful of your speech. The master-forester has a brother
living in this neighborhood. I may be that brother. If so, would I like
to hear that your father is looking forward to his death in order to
have his place? And would it be to your father's advantage to have it
known that he is looking forward to it?"

Franz was silent a moment, then he reached forward and put his hand in
that of his adviser and thanked him, and his friend shook it heartily.

"Now, as a matter of courtesy, I should tell you my name. It is James
Furman. I am a farmer and live near the village of Umstadt. I know your
fathers well and am glad to meet their sons."

"And we are glad to meet you! It is kind of you to ask us to ride. We
were getting very tired, and we are much obliged to you."

"Then perhaps you will sing some more of your sweet songs. Hear how the
larks and finches are singing their evening praises to God."

The boys were very willing. They sang several, their new friend joining
them, and had just finished his favorite when they reached the little
town of Umstadt, and halted in front of the one public house of which
the sign was a swan. The moment the carriage stopped Pixy sprang out and
waited with bright eyes and wagging tail for his master to descend.