"Reicklein, yonder, had no other relatives here--her parents were from
Bamberg--but she was well off, and her husband, Veit, earned enough by
his travels through the country. But on St. Blaise's day, early in the
month of February, during a trip to Vogtland, it was at Hof, he was
overtaken by a snowstorm, and the worthy man was found frozen under a
drift, with his staff and pouch. The sad news reached her just after the
birth of a little boy, and there were two other mouths to feed besides.
Her savings went quickly enough, and she fell into dire poverty, for she
had not yet recovered her strength, and could not do housework. During
Passion Week she sold her bed to pay what she had borrowed and to feed
the children. It was cold, she had not a copper, nor any possibility of
earning anything. Then the rest went, too, and there was no way of
getting food enough for the children and herself.

"But as her father had been in the employ of the city and was an honest
man, by the advice of the provost of St. Sebald's, who had been her
confessor from childhood, she applied to the Honourable Council, and
received the answer that old Hans Schab was by no means forgotten, and
therefore, to relieve her need, she was referred to the beadle, who would
give her the permit which enabled her to ask alms from those who went to
St. Sebald's Church, and had already afforded many a person ample
support.

"For her children's sake she crushed the pride which rebelled against it,
and stood at the church door, not once, but again and again. The other
mendicants, however, treated her so roughly, and the cruel enmity with
which they tried to crowd her out of her place seemed so unbearable, that
she could not hold out. Once, when they insulted her too much, and again
thrust her back so spitefully that not even one of the many churchgoers
noticed her, she, fled to her children in the little room, determined to