"Oh yes! Well, then, let me see. What comes next? Oh, manual labour. Felling trees, and so forth. Do you know, Sandwirth, my mother asked me, last Christmas, to chop up a billet of wood for the fire, and I hit myself such a blow on the left hand with the axe,—here, just at the fleshy part of the thumb,—that I carry the mark of it, as you may see, to this day. And my mother said it might have brought on lock-jaw!"
"Did she, though?"
"Death in three days," said Franz solemnly. "These handicraft jobs, you see, require practice. They amount almost to trades. Now, a trade requires an apprenticeship; and I've never had one to a woodcutter: so that, altogether, I might do myself more hurt than anybody else."
"Many people do."
"That's considered then. Well, what comes next? Night-watching. Oh, yes, I would not at all mind taking my turn at that, though I'm a dreadful one for falling asleep."
"A sleepy sentinel would not be of much use."
"No; only everybody must sleep sometimes; and they that work hardest sleep soundest."
"Just so."
"As for carrying provisions up the hills, little chaps like your Johann are equal to that, I think."
"I should hope so."