with five little boys. "Oh, heavens!" exclaimed Rosa, "Valentine is dead, for there are his wife and children!"
"What do I hear?" said master Martin. "Can Valentine be dead? Oh, what a frightful misfortune! He was the most skilful of my workmen, and the most upright one that I have ever known. He wounded himself with his adz several days ago. The wound became inflamed; gangrene came to aid the fever, and the poor devil dies in the flower of his age."
Then comes the disconsolate wife, complaining to see her children doomed to misery.
"How then," exclaimed master Martin—"how can you think that I will abandon you after your husband has died in my service? Not so, good woman; it shall not be as long as master Martin lives, and as long as God preserves his fortune. You all belong to my family from this day. To-morrow you will go and establish yourself, with your children, in my farm house outside of the Frauenthor, and I will go and see you every day. You will take the management of my house, and I will bring up your boys so that they will become good and substantial workmen. You have still an old father who worked well in his time. If his strength no longer allows him to do much, labor, he can always be useful in some manner. Take him with you, then; you will all be welcome."
At these words the poor widow felt so much joy, that she was near fainting. Master Martin pressed her hand affectionately, whilst the little children, whom Rosa was loading with caresses, clung to him on all sides. The counsellor Jacob Paumgartner could not restrain a big tear.
"Master Martin," exclaimed he, "you are a singular man; and in whatever humor we find you, there is no such thing as being angry with you."
And they separated.
