"Come here, Franz," cried she, as soon as he drew near. "You have not done a stroke of work to-day. To-morrow you must look after the stock."
"Well, the day after to-morrow, I will."
"Why not to-morrow? I want to take my mother to the shrine of St. Kummernitz, to try if it will do her eyes any good, and I can't look after her and the cows too."
"But there's going to be a peasant-play, to-morrow,—Joseph and his Brethren, and I'm wanted to play one of the brethren."
"Truly, I think there might be a better time of year than this for a peasant-play, when we are short of hands at every kind of work. Who has proposed such nonsense?"
"Leopold Strauss is going to marry Bianca Gessner—the play is only going to be got up by her bridesmaids and a few of the bridegroom's friends—"
"But you are not one of them, and we are not related to the bride."
"No, but all his friends are gone to fight, and they can't make up the party without me—"
"Well,—I should think it no great honour to go, under those circumstances; but you will do as you like. The day after to-morrow, then, I may rely upon you—"