whether I had not heard that but a few days ago a woman (he told me her
name, but horror made me forget it) had there killed her own child, and
devoured it from hunger? That he could not therefore help me, and I might
go to the Lieper Winkel myself.

I was horror-stricken at his tale, as is easy to guess, for we in our own
trouble had not yet heard of it, there being little or no traffic between
one village and another; and thinking on Jerusalem, and sheer despairing
because the Lord had visited us, as of old that ungodly city, although we
had not betrayed or crucified him, I almost forgot all my necessities, and
took my staff in my hand to depart. But I had not gone more than a few
yards when the beggar called me to stop, and when I turned myself round he
came towards me with a good hunch of bread which he had taken out of his
wallet, and said, "There! but pray for me also, so that I may reach my
home; for if on the road they smell that I have bread, my own brother
would strike me dead, I believe." This I promised with joy, and instantly
turned back to take to my child the gift hidden in my pocket. And behold,
when I came to the road which leads to Loddin, I could scarce trust my
eyes (before I had overlooked it in my distress) when I saw my glebe,
which could produce seven bushels, ploughed, sown, and in stalk; the
blessed crop of rye had already shot lustily out of the earth a finger's
length in height. I could not choose but think that the Evil One had
deceived me with a false show, yet, however hard I rubbed my eyes, rye it
was and rye it remained. And seeing that old Paasch his piece of land
which joined mine was in like manner sown, and that the blades had shot up
to the same height, I soon guessed that the good fellow had done this
deed, seeing that all the other land lay waste. Wherefore, I readily
forgave him for not knowing the morning prayer; and thanking the Lord for
so much love from my flock, and earnestly beseeching him to grant me
strength and faith to bear with them steadfastly and patiently all the