and all the men in the place were kept busy cutting down trees in the Black Forest, or working in the sawmill.

After the logs had been cut the right length, they were bound into rafts, and floated down the little stream to the Rhine.

"The rafts themselves seem alive," said Hans to his friend. "You men know just how to bind the logs together with those willow bands, so they twist and turn about like living creatures as they move down the stream."

"I have travelled on a raft all the way from here to Cologne," answered the wood-cutter. "The one who steers must be skilful, for he needs to be very careful. You know the rafts grow larger all the time, don't you, Hans?"

"Oh, yes. As the river becomes wider, the smaller ones are bound together. But is it true that the men sometimes take their families along with them?"

"Certainly. They set up tents, or little huts, on the rafts, so their wives and children can have a comfortable place to eat and sleep. Then, too, if it rains, they can be sheltered from the storm."

"I'd like to go with you sometime. You pass close to Strasburg, and I could stop and visit Uncle Fritz. Wouldn't it be fun!"

"Hans! Hans!" called a girl's voice just then.

"I don't see her, but I know that's Bertha. She came over to the village with me this afternoon. One of her friends has a coffee-party and she invited us to it. So, good-bye."

"Good-bye, my lad. Come and see me again. Perhaps I can manage sometime to take you with me on a trip down the river."

"Thank you ever so much."

Hans hurried away, and was soon entering the house of a little friend who was celebrating her birthday with a coffee-party.

There were several other children there. They were all dressed in their best clothes and looked very neat and nice. The boys wore long trousers and straight jackets. They looked like little old men. The girls had bright-coloured skirts and their white waists were fresh and stiff.

Their shoes were coarse and heavy, and made a good deal of noise as the children played the different games. But they were all so plump and rosy, it was good to look at them.

"They are a pretty sight," said one of the neighbours, as she poured out the coffee.

"They deserve to have a good time," said another woman with a kind, motherly face. "They will soon grow up, and then they will have to work hard to get a living."

The coffee and cakes were a great treat to these village children. They did not get such a feast every day in the year. Their mothers made cakes only for festivals and holidays, and coffee was seldom seen on their tables oftener than once a week.

In the great cities and fine castles, where the rich people of Germany had their homes, they could eat sweet dainties and drink coffee as often as they liked. But in the villages of the Black Forest, it was quite different.

"Good night, good night," said Hans and Bertha, as they left their friends and trudged off on a path through the woods. It was the shortest way home, and they knew their mother must be looking for them by this time.

It was just sunset, but the children could not see the beautiful colours of the evening sky, after they had gone a short distance into the thick woods.

"Do you suppose there are any bears around?" whispered Bertha.

The trees looked very black. It seemed to the little girl as though she kept seeing the shadow of some big animal hiding behind them.

"No, indeed," answered Hans, quite scornfully. "Too many people go along this path for bears to be willing to stay around here. You would have to go farther up into the forest to find them. But look quickly, Bertha. Do you see that rabbit jumping along? Isn't he a big fellow?"

"See! Hans, he has noticed us. There he goes as fast as his legs can carry him."

By this time, the children had reached the top of a hill. The trees grew very thick and close. On one side a torrent came rushing down over the rocks and stones. It seemed to say:

"I cannot stop for any one. But come with me, come with me, and I will take you to the beautiful Rhine. I will show you the way to pretty bridges, and great stone castles, and rare old cities. Oh, this is a wonderful world, and you children of the Black Forest have a great deal to see yet."

"I love to listen to running water," said Bertha. "It always has a story to tell us."

"Do you see that light over there, away off in the distance?" asked Hans. "It comes from a charcoal-pit. I can hear the voices of the men at their work."

"I shouldn't like to stay out in the dark woods all the time and make charcoal," answered his sister. "I should get lonesome and long for the sunlight."

"It isn't very easy work, either," said Hans. "After the trees have been cut down, the pits have to be made with the greatest care, and the wood must be burned just so slowly to change it into charcoal. I once spent a day in the forest with some charcoal-burners. They told such good stories that night came before I had thought of it."

"I can see the village ahead of us," said Bertha, joyfully.

A few minutes afterward, the children were running up the stone steps of their own home.

"We had such a good time," Hans told his mother, while Bertha went to Gretchen and gave her some cakes she had brought her from the coffee-party.

"I'm so sorry you couldn't go," she told her sister.

"Perhaps I can next time," answered Gretchen. "But, of course, we could not all leave mother when she had so much work to do. So I just kept busy and tried to forget all about it."

"You dear, good Gretchen! I'm going to try to be as patient and helpful as you are," said Bertha, kissing her sister.

CHAPTER V.
THE BEAUTIFUL CASTLE

"Father's coming, father's coming," cried Bertha, as she ran down the steps and out into the street.

Her father had been away for two days, and Hans had gone with him. They had been to Heidelberg. Bertha and Gretchen had never yet visited that city, although it was not more than twenty miles away.

"Oh, dear, I don't know where to begin," Hans told the girls that evening.

"Of course, I liked to watch the students better than anything else. The town seems full of them. They all study in the university, of course, but they are on the streets a good deal. They seem to have a fine time of it. Every one carries a small cane with a button on the end of it. They wear their little caps down over their foreheads on one side."

"What colour do they have for their caps, Hans?" asked Gretchen.

"All colours, I believe. Some are red, some blue, some yellow, some green. Oh, I can't tell you how many different kinds there are. But they were bright and pretty, and made the streets look as though it must be a festival day."

"I have heard that the students fight a good many duels. Is that so, Hans?"

"If you should see them, you would certainly think so. Many of the fellows are real handsome, but their faces are scarred more often than not.

"'The more scars I can show, the braver people will think I am.' That is what the students seem to think. They get up duels with each other on the smallest excuse. When they fight, they always try to strike the face. Father says their duelling is good practice. It really helps to make them brave. If I were a student, I