"You've been industrious," said Hansei, and Walpurga answered: "Yes, my thoughts wandered far away into the world, and have come back again. You see, the quality have all that one can wish for, but do you know what they haven't got?"
"No."
"They've no Sunday; and do you know why?"
"I don't know that, either."
"Because they've no real workdays. In the palace, when you get up in the morning, your boots and shoes are ready at your door just as if they had blackened themselves. The coffee is ready of itself, the bread has baked itself, the paths have swept themselves clean, and everything is attended to, one hardly knows how. But to do everything with your own hands--Just see! to-day, I've already put my hand under your feet; I've cleaned your shoes."
"You mustn't do that; that's no work for you. Don't you do it again."
"Very well, I won't do it again. But to-day I've done everything, and I can hardly tell you how happy I felt when I went after the first pail of water. It went hard at first, but I managed it, after all. And now I'm longing for breakfast. Since the day I left home, I've never once been so hungry as I now am."
When the grandmother came, bringing the child with her, she, too, was surprised, and said: "Walpurga, you'll turn our cottage into a palace."
With joyful mien, Hansei told her of all that Walpurga had been doing, and the mother said: "She's right; an industrious home is the happiest home, and now, just because you've got some means, you must work so much the more. For where there's idleness riches take wings to themselves; but if you're always adding something, no matter how little, to your store, the old is likely to stay."
"I don't think we need go to church to-day," said Hansei, "mother's giving us the best benediction."