The young girl took the bird, and went into the house with it. Christlieb went close to the window where the old man sat reading.
"Father Butter," he began firmly, "you have ordered me never to come within your door. Give me your hand, then, out at the window, and say, at parting, that you will not any longer be angry with me."
Butter looked up, and shook his head at the boy.
"Father!" repeated Christlieb entreatingly, "you have let many suns set on your wrath; give me your hand."
"If you will confess your fault," said the old man, relenting a little.
"Let us say no more about that," answered Christlieb. "I may or I may not have done it. You know we are all sinners."
At length the bird-catcher yielded, put his hand out at the window, and said, "I forgive you! Go in peace."
"A thousand thanks, father," answered Christlieb, well pleased. "Farewell!" and he was speedily out of sight; while Malchen, with tears in her eyes, looked after her playmate.
CHAPTER VII.
THE TOWN MUSICIAN.