THE NURNBERG STOVE. 17
of frozen air and a spray of driven snow struck
like ice through the room, and reached them even
in the warmth of the old wolf-skins and the great
stove. It was the door which had opened and let
iii the cold ; it was their father who had come
The younger children ran joyous to meet him.
Dorothea pushed the one wooden arm-chair of the
room to the stove, and August flew to set the jug of
beer on a little round table, and fill a long clay pipe;
for their father was good to them all, and seldom
raised his voice in anger, and they had been trained
by the mother they had loved to dutifulness and
obedience and a watchful affection.
To-night Karl Strehla responded very wearily to
the young ones' welcome, and came to the wooden
chair with a tired step and sat down heavily, not
noticing either pipe or beer.
' Are you not well, dear father ?' his daughter
' I am well enough,' he answered dully ; and sat
there with his head bent, letting the lighted pipe
He was a fair, tall man, grey before his time, and
bowed with labour.
' Take the children to bed,' he said suddenly at
last, and Dorothea obeyed. August stayed behind,
curled before the stove; at nine years old, and
when one earns money in the summer from the