Carrying a pail or pitcher on the head gives the neck an erect, noble carriage—reining it up, as it were: and Theresa, in her short, scanty grass-green petticoat, and black bodice laced with scarlet, might have stood for the Princess Nausicaa, as her laughing black eyes looked down on the young fisherman from beneath their long lashes.
"There's a wary fellow under that yellow stone," answered Rudolf; "I caught a gleam, just now, of his bright back-fin."
"I don't believe you did—I dare say it was only the water that sparkled. I would undertake to milk all the cows in the Passeyrthal, before you caught fish enough for dinner."
"Try me," said he, leaning back on his elbow to look up full at her. "Though I have but a four-acre farm, it's in full cultivation, quite productive enough for you and me, with a good wooden cottage on it, too. I'll catch you a fish for dinner every day."
"What nonsense, Rudolf, you do talk!"
"No nonsense at all. I'm quite in earnest; but you do love to cut up a poor fellow."
"No, I don't," said Theresa, looking down, though she could not bend her head. "Shall you come to the shooting-match on Sunday?"
"To be sure I shall. The match will be only a feint."
"Do you like the prospect of war?"
"Certainly—Don't you?"