“Where is our little Mary?” said the father.
“She is playing out upon the green there with our neighbour’s boy,” replied the mother.
“I wish they may not run away and lose themselves,” said he; “they are so thoughtless.”
The mother looked for the little ones, and brought them their evening luncheon. “It is warm,” said the boy; “and Mary had a longing for the red cherries.”
“Have a care, children,” said the mother, “and do not run too far from home, and not into the wood; Father and I are going to the fields.”
Little Andres answered: “Never fear, the wood frightens us; we shall sit here by the house, where there are people near us.”
The mother went in, and soon came out again with her husband. They locked the door, and turned towards the fields to look after their labourers, and see their hay-harvest in the meadow. Their house lay upon a little green height, encircled by a pretty ring of paling, which likewise enclosed their fruit and flower garden. The hamlet stretched somewhat deeper down, and on the other side lay the castle of the Count. Martin rented the large farm from this nobleman; and was living in contentment with his wife and only child; for he yearly saved some money, and had the prospect of becoming a man of substance by his industry, for the ground was productive, and the Count not illiberal.
As he walked with his wife to the fields, he gazed cheerfully