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"The house near Christianshavn's canal is again for sale—your worthy uncle's house, Johanna! And now upon very reasonable terms," said the young joiner and cabinet-maker, Frants, one morning to his pretty wife, as he laid the advertisement sheet of the newspaper upon the cradle, and glanced at his little boy, an infant of about three months old, who was sleeping sweetly, and seemed to be sporting with heavenly cherubs in his innocent dreams.
"Let us on no account think of the dear old house," replied his wife, taking up the newspaper and placing it on the table, without even looking at the advertisement. "We have a roof over our heads as long as Mr. Stork will have patience about the rent. If we have bread enough for ourselves, and for yon little angel, who will soon begin to want some, we may well rest contented. Notwithstanding our poverty, we are, perhaps, the happiest married couple in the whole town," she added gently, and with an affectionate smile, "and we ought to thank our God that he did not let the wide world separate us from each other, but permitted you to return from your distant journey healthy and cheerful, and that he has granted us love and strength to bear our little cross with patience."
"You are ever the same amiable and pious Johanna," said Frants, embracing the lovely young mother, who reminded him of an exquisite picture of the Madonna he had seen abroad, "and you have made me better and more patient than I was, either by nature or habit But I really cannot remain longer in this miserable garret; I have neither room nor spirits to work here; and if I am to make anything by my handicraft, I must have a proper workshop and space to breathe and move in. Your good uncle's house, near the canal, is just the place for me; how many jovial songs my old master and I have sung there together over our joiner's bench! Ah! there I shall feel comfortable and at home. It was there, also, that I first saw you; there that I used to sit every evening with you in the nice little parlour with the cheerful green wainscoting, when I came from the workshop with old Mr. Flok. I remember how, on Sundays and on holidays, he used to take his silver goblet from the cupboard in the alcove, and drink with me in such a sociable way. And when my piece of trial-work as a journeyman was finished, and the large handsome coffin was put out in state in the workshop, do you remember how glad the old man was, and how you sank into my arms when he placed your hand in mine over the coffin, and said: 'Take her, Frants, and be worthy of her! My house shall be your home and hers, and everything it contains shall be your property when I am sleeping in this coffin, awaiting a blessed resurrection.'"
"Ah! but all that never came to pass," sighed Johanna.. "The coffin
