Tears again filled the old man's eyes as he spoke, and he paused, shook
his head, and buried his face in his hands. There was something in the
old man's unwillingness to disclose who it was that had caused him this
trouble that excited Mattie's suspicions.

"You must tell me, Father Hanz," said she, encircling his neck with her
right arm and patting him on the cheek encouragingly and affectionately
with her left hand, "who has caused you all this trouble."

Hanz looked up earnestly and enquiringly into her face. Still there was
a doubt in that look it was impossible to mistake.

"You ton't know, eh? you ton't know, eh? Maype as he is petter as you
ton't know, mine shild. T' man what prings shorrow into mine house; t'
man what shays I pees one tief t' mine neighpors--dat man he pees no
friend of mine." Again the old man paused, and looked up inquiringly
into Mattie's sweet face, as if anxious to trace the secret of her
thoughts. And as he did so the breeze tossed the grey hairs over his
forehead, as if to cover up the wrinkles age had written on it.

"Mine taughter, mine taughter," he resumed, grasping Mattie's hand
firmly, "I'se gettin' old now. Tare von't pe no more of old Hanz
Toodleburg shoon. You never know'd nothin' pad of old Hanz
Toodleburg--does you, mine taughter?"

"Never, never! Why, Father Hanz, nobody has been saying anything against
you," replied Mattie, smiling.

"Dar has, too," resumed Hanz. "What I lives for now is mine goot name,