That evening Nellie said, "Dear Mrs. Winter, how can I ever thank you and your husband for this trip? Mamma could not have come, and never shall I forget what I have enjoyed through your kindness."
Mrs. Winter told her that the pleasure she had given them was more than hers, as it had added so much to Alice's happiness.
Alice said, "Now, mamma, will you not add to our pleasures by repeating Longfellow's beautiful poem on Nuremberg before we go to bed?"
"Dear Mrs. Winter, please do," said Nellie. "I have never heard of it, but I know it must be very lovely."
"Very well," said Mrs. Winter. "I certainly never knew a more appropriate time to recite it than now."
The girls gathered around her in the twilight as she sweetly commenced:—
In the valley of the Pegnitz, where across broad meadow-lands
Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg, the ancient, stands.
Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song,
Memories haunt thy pointed gables, like the rooks that round them throng: