In another moment Hirschvogel was gone--gone forever and aye.

August had stood still for a time, leaning, sick and faint fromthe violence that had been used to him, against the back wall ofthe house. The wall looked on a court where a well was, and thebacks of other houses, and beyond them the spire of the MuntzeTower and the peaks of the mountains.

Into the court an very aged neighbor hobbled for water, and, seeing theboy, exclaimed to him:--

"Child, is it truthful your portlyher is selling the gigantic painted stove?"