along the coasts. From the gardens surrounding the pretty country-houses
arose rockets into the blue sky, the Moccoli of the north above the
Carnival of the Park.

Wilhelm remained with his young friends in the wood, and there they
intended, with the stroke of twelve, to drink out of Kirsten's
well. Men and women, girls and boys of the lower class, and jovial
young men, meet, after this manner, to enjoy St. John's Eve. Still
sounded the music, the swings were in motion, lamps hung out,
whilst the new moon shone through the thick tree boughs. Toward
midnight the noise died away; only a blind peasant still scratched
upon the three strings which were left on his violin; some servant-girls
wandered, arm-in-arm, with their sweethearts, and sang. At twelve
o'clock all assembled about the well, and drank the clear, ice-cold
water. From no great distance resounded, through the still night,
a chorus of four manly voices. It was as if the wood gods sang in
praise of the nymph of the well.

Upon the hill all was now deserted and quiet. Bajazzo and il
Padrone slept behind the thin linen partition, under a coverlid.
The moon set, but the night was clear; no clear, frosty winter
night has a snore beautiful starry heaven to exhibit. Wilhelm's
party was merry, quickly flew the hours away; singing in chorus,
the party wandered through the wood, and down toward the strand.
The day already dawned; a red streak along the horizon announced
its approach.

Nature sang to them the mythos of the creation of the world, even
as she had sung it to Moses, who wrote down this voice from God,
interpreted by Nature. Light banished the darkness, heaven and