THE NURNBERG STOVE. 15
soul raised up by angels, had always had the mor,t
intense interest for August, and he had made, not
one history for him, but a thousand ; he seldom told
them the same tale twice. He had never seen a
story-book in his life; bis primer and his mass-book
were all the volumes he had. But nature had given
him Fancy, and she is a good fairy that makes up for
the want of very many things ; only, alas ! her wings
are so very soon broken, poor thing, and then she is
of no use at all.
' It is time for you all to go to bed, children,*
said Dorothea, looking up from her spinning.
' Father is very late to-night, you must not sit up for
' Oh, five minutes more, dear Dorothea!' they
pleaded; and little rosy and golden Ermengilda
climbed up into her lap. ' HIrschvogel is so warm,
the beds are never so warm as he ; cannot you tell
us another tale, August ?'
' No,' cried August, whose face had lost its light
now that his story had come to an end, and who sat
serious, with his hands clasped on his knees, gazing
on to the luminous arabesques of the stove.
' It is only a week to Christmas,' he said sud¬
' Grandmother's big cakes!' chuckled little
Christof, who was five years old, and thought Christ¬
mas meant a big cake and nothing else.
* What will Santa Claus find for 'Gilda if she be