done the same... and then..."

"Well, and then?" the uncle cried, eagerly anticipating his answer.

"Then the Sechus of our mother will come to our aid." Ephraim said softly.

The farmer's eyes grew dim with moisture; his sister had been very dear
to him.

"As I live!" he cried, brushing his hand across his eyes, "you are true
children of my sister Gudule. That's all _I_ can say."

Then, as though moved by a sudden impulse, he quickly produced, from the
depths of his overcoat, a heavy pocketbook. "There!"... he cried,
well-nigh out of breath, "there are a hundred gulden for you, Ephraim.
With that you can, at all events, make a start; and then you needn't
sell the few things you still have. There ... put the money away... oats
haven't fetched any price at all to-day, 'tis true; but for the sake of
Gudule's children, I don't mind what I do... Come, put it away,
Ephraim... and may God bless you, and make you prosper."

"Uncle!" cried Ephraim, as he raised the farmer's hand to his lips, "is
all this to be mine? All this?"

"Yes, my boy, yes; it IS a deal of money isn't it?" ... said Gudule's
brother, accompanying his words with a sounding slap on his massive
thigh. "I should rather think it is. With that you can do something, at
all events ... and shall I tell you something? In Bohemia the oat crop
is, unfortunately, very bad this season. But in Moravia it's splendid,
and is two groats cheaper ... So there's your chance, Ephraim, my child;