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intelligible to me; for it was in an unknown tongue—neither French nor Latin。 Whether it were Greek or German I could not tell。

“That is strong;” she said; when she had finished: “I relish it。” The other girl; who had lifted her head to listen to her sister; repeated; while she gazed at the fire; a line of what had been read。 At a later day; I knew the language and the book; therefore; I will here quote the line: though; when I first heard it; it was only like a stroke on sounding brass to me—conveying no meaning:—

“‘Da trat hervor Einer; anzusehen wie die Sternen Nacht。’ Good! good!” she exclaimed; while her dark and deep eye sparkled。 “There you have a dim and mighty archangel fitly set before you! The line is worth a hundred pages of fustian。 ‘Ich wage die Gedanken in der Schale meines Zornes und die Werke mit dem Gewichte meines Grimms。’ I like it!”

Both were again silent。

“Is there ony country where they talk i’ that way?” asked the old woman; looking up from her knitting。

“Yes; Hannah—a far larger country than England; where they talk in no other way。”

“Well; for sure case; I knawn’t how they can understand t’ one t’other: and if either o’ ye went there; ye could tell what they said; I guess?”

“We could probably tell something of what they said; but not all— for we are not as clever as you think us; Hannah。 We don’t speak German; and we cannot read it without a dictionary to help us。”

“And what good does it do you?”

“We mean to teach it some time—or at least the elements; as they say; and then we shall get more money than we do now。”

“Varry like: but give ower studying; ye’ve done enough for to… night。”

“I think we have: at least I’m tired。 Mary; are you?”

“Mortally: after all;

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