and old Conrad, below on the earth, is still using them.'

"'And mine also,' another continued, 'were of the same wood. I had
lain for a long time on my back; but after I got them, I learned to walk
with them and they enabled me to stand before the loom, and to earn bread
once more for my family. That man yonder from Hochdorf has had the same
experience, and the wooden leg of William, the toll-gate keeper, who
entered here shortly before me, was made of wood from the nut-tree.'

"'I owe it a debt of gratitude, too, but for an entirely different
service,' said a beautiful angel, as it bowed its crowned head reverently
before the Son of God. 'My lot below was a very hard one. I was early
left a widow, and I supported my children entirely by the work of my
hands. By dint of great effort I brought them up well, and my three sons
grew to be brave men, who took care of themselves, and helped their
mother. But all three, my Master, were lost to me, taken away by the
unfathomable wisdom of the Father. Two fell in war, the third was killed
by the machinery while at his work. That broke my strength, and when
they brought me to the hospital I was on the verge of despair, and life
seemed a greater burden than I could bear. Your image, my Saviour, had
just been finished by a sculptor, who had carved it from the wood of the
nut-tree by the Fresh Spring. They put it up opposite to my bed. It
represented you, my Lord, on the cross, and your head bowed in agony,
with its crown of thorns, was a very sorrowful sight. Yet I paid but
small heed to it. One morning, however--it was the anniversary of the
death of my two dear sons, who had lost their lives, fighting bravely
side by side for their Fatherland--on that morning the sun fell upon your
sad face, and bleeding hands pierced by the nails, and then I reflected
how bitterly you had suffered, though innocent, that you might redeem us,
and how your mother must have felt to lose such a child. Then a voice