oxen, they will be just what I want. A year hence you will bring
them to me, Anthony Waidlinger.' And this prediction was fulfilled.
I did not shave my beard, and Anna Gertrude, my wife, rejoiced at
her Andy's beard instead of being angry at it, and thought it made
her husband look a great deal better. When the year was up, Anthony
Waidlinger drove his two oxen with a sullen air into my stable, and
said: 'Now you may cut off your fur and have a pillow made from it
for your wife.' 'I need not cut off my beard for that purpose,' I
replied; 'it may be my wife's pillow even while it hangs down on my
breast. For she is a good and dutiful wife, and I am fondly attached
to her.' That, archduke, is the story of my beard, which I have worn
ever since, and which has often been a pillow when my little boy and
three girls fell asleep on my lap, and under which they have often
concealed their little heads when their mother was looking for them.
You will ask me no more to cut off my beard--the pillow and
plaything of my children."

"No, Andreas," said the archduke, kindly, "I will not. Wear your
fine beard as you have done hitherto; may it be, notwithstanding its
black color, the victorious flag round which the royal Tyrolese
shall rally on rising for their lord and emperor! And now, farewell,
my friends; it is dawning, and it is time for us to repose a little.
Go home, therefore, and what remains to be settled you may talk over
to-morrow with Baron von Hormayr, who will give you money for
travelling expenses, and for distribution among the innkeepers. Day
after to-morrow you will set out for home, and bring to all loyal
Tyrolese the joyful news that war will break out."

"Yes, yes, war will break out!" exclaimed the three Tyrolese,
exultingly.