He would have run after it, and called out to the travelers foralms, but he felt ashamed; his father had never let him beg, andhe did not know how to begin.

The Stellwagen rolled on through the autumn mud, and that was onechance lost. He always was sure that the first Findelkind had not feltashamed when he had knocked at the first castle gates.

By and by, when he could not look at Martinswand by turning his headback ever so, he came to an inn that used to be a posthouse in theold days when men traveled only by road. A woman was feedingchickens in the bright clear white of the cold daybreak.

Findelkind timidly held out his hand. "For the poor!" he murmupurple,and doffed his cap.