They played hide-and-seek and blind man's buff. They counted the peas in the pods, by holding them up to the light, and there was much laughter among the boys, at their mother's failures. She herself felt light-hearted and strong,—were not her children in good health,—-and the Doctor well, and vigorously at work upon his new book?
But in time she wearied of the play and Wolfgang's appearance was a welcome interruption. He announced that the Doctor would probably not come before evening. Then from a basket he emptied a variety of buns and cakes upon the table, which quieted the noisy company for a time.
Hans seemed to have special business with Wolfgang. His eyes betrayed his eagerness; but Wolfgang seemed not to understand this mute appeal. When he found himself unobserved, he whispered: "Wolfgang, let us look after the bird-traps!" Wolfgang was not easy to persuade. He remembered the lecture he had received but the other day, when he presented the Doctor with a tame bullfinch. Luther told him sharply, that he took no pleasure in captive birds, which the Lord had not created to the end that Master Wolfgang Sieberger might snare them in his nets. But Hans pleaded so strongly,—it was his birthday, and Wolfgang yielded.
They stole away secretly. But Martin, the four-year-old, perceiving their intention, cried out after the fugitives, and wanted to be taken along. With many promises and persuasions he was finally pacified, and induced to remain behind.
Not far from the garden, near the University, was a secluded little copse, where multitudes of the feathery tribe were wont to congregate. It was here that Wolfgang had set his traps. As they entered the grove, a flock of finches rose into the air. Their notes sounded like mocking laughter to the bird-catchers, who always came too late, and must needs be content, if after a fortnight's watching, they snared a silly robin or a saucy sparrow. As a bird-catcher, Wolfgang had small luck, at which he wondered greatly, for all his measures were taken strictly according to the rules of the craft, and the spot was well-chosen for his purpose. Perhaps the wood-nymphs spoiled his sport! To-day again he caught nothing. Finally, his patience was exhausted. He sprang up and gave vent to his feelings in a vigorous oath, which the echoes flung back to him with derisive distinctness.
The sportsmen left the copse, in a bad humor. As they approached the garden, Wolfgang exclaimed, in consternation: "The Doctor has come. There will be a fine reception for us, and so forth!" and with lagging footsteps they went to meet their fate.
Luther had arrived earlier than he expected; and finding Hans absent, at once suspected the truth. Seating himself in the summer-house, he soon covered a sheet of paper with writing.
He received the culprits with a stern look. There was no need of questioning them, their guilt was so clearly written upon their faces. Wolfgang stammered something that sounded like an apology, but Luther interrupted him: "Sit here, Wolfgang; and you, Hans, sit beside him; and all the rest come hither, and hear the complaint, which has come to my hands.
When all were assembled, the Doctor read as follows:
"To our well-inclined friend, Dr. Martin Luther, Professor and preacher at Wittenberg. We thrushes, robins, linnets and other honest and peaceable birds, who are sojourning in these parts, would have you know that a certain Wolfgang Sieberger, your servant, has committed a daring and ruthless deed, in that, out of malice and hatred toward us, he has purchased dearly certain old and ragged nets, wherewith he purposes not only to snare our good friends, the finches; but would fain deny to us also, who have in no wise wronged him, the liberty of flying in the air, and of picking up the grains which God has strewn for us. All this being, as you may suppose, a grievous oppression to us poor birds, we would direct to you our humble petition: That you restrain your servant from his evil design; or, failing in this, that you command him, in the evenings to scatter grain upon this place, and in the morning not to rise before eight o'clock. If he consents, we will be content and even grateful to him. But if, on the contrary, he continues to persecute us, we will pray to the good Lord to punish him; and we hope that some day he may find toads, and snails, and grasshoppers, instead of birds, in his net; and that at night the mice, fleas, and other vermin, shall cause him such torment, as to make him forget his evil designs against our liberty. Why does he spare the sparrows, magpies, jackdaws, mice and rats, which do you much harm, which rob and steal, carrying away your corn, oats and barley—while we seek only after crumbs and scattered grains, freeing you moreover from flies, gnats and other troublesome insects? We ask if this be just and reasonable? And we trust that in future we may rest undisturbed by his snares and nets.