She waited, holding the tray, and wistfully eying him.

"Take it 'way," said he, "I won't touch it if you stand till doomsday,
lessen you untie me!"

"I'll untie your arm, papa, one arm; you kin eat that way."

"Not lessen you untie all of me, I won't touch a bite."

"You know why I won't untie you, papa."

"Starving will kill as dead as hanging," was Lieders's orphic
response to this.

Thekla sighed and went away, leaving the tray on the table.
It may be that she hoped the sight of food might stir his stomach
to rebel against his dogged will; if so she was disappointed;
half an hour went by during which the statue under the bedclothes
remained without so much as a quiver,

Then the old woman returned. "Aint you awful cramped and stiff, papa?"

"Yes," said the statue.

"Will you promise not to do yourself a mischief, if I untie you?"

"No."

Thekla groaned, while the tears started to her red eyelids.