"Her name is Lilian," said Knopf, "and you know that in English our mayflower is called the lily of the valley, and the child received a mayflower from some being in the wood who did not know her name. A wonderful story she has woven together in her little blond head, for she constantly insists that she has seen the wood-prince."
"You are secretly a poet," said Eric.
Involuntarily Knopf's hand went to his breast-pocket, where his tablets lay hidden, as if he suspected that Eric had stolen them from him.
"I allow myself now and then to string a verse together; but don't be frightened, I've never troubled any one else with them."
Eric felt cordially attracted towards this man, so dry in outward appearance, and yet so deeply enthusiastic; and as the bells rang again in the village, he said,—
"Now come and make me acquainted with the schoolmaster."
CHAPTER IX.
ANTHONY.
The schoolmaster of the village was stiff and formal in manner; he received the Captain very humbly. The three were soon seated together at the inn, and the village teacher related the history of his life.
He was sixty-four years old, but seemed still very vigorous. He had the same reason for complaining which all public teachers have, and related with a mingled pride and bitterness that his son, twenty-one years of age, was receiving more than twice the pay in a cement-factory of the young Herr Weidmann, than his father was receiving after a service of two and thirty years. He had four sons, but not one should become a schoolmaster. Another son was a merchant, and the oldest a building-contractor in America.