It seemed to me that Rothfuss was laughing to himself. I had been mistaken, however, for Wolfgang, who was seated on the box with Rothfuss, now called out, "Father, Rothfuss is crying!"
"Is there anything that such an American wouldn't notice?" replied Rothfuss, sitting upright on the box, and cracking his whip with all his might.
"And so the new road through the valley is finished," said Ludwig; "I suppose Antonin built that. It would have been better, though, if they had carried it along the other bank."
The new road had, however, only been laid out as far as the boundary line; from there unto my dwelling, which was fully two hours distant, there was only the old road, which was in a horrible condition.
"Father," exclaimed Wolfgang, "here are the boundary posts that you told me of."
"Yes," said Ludwig; "this is yet old Germany. Here, there is still separation."
I believe that I have not yet mentioned that I live near the border. Our village is the last point in our territory, and further down the valley is the beginning of the neighboring principality.
How strange! There was so much that we wished to speak of to one another, and the first subject of conversation was the laying out of the new road.
And it is well that it is so; for this helps one over the heart-throbs that otherwise would be almost insupportable.
Ludwig had mentioned mother, and for the present she was not referred to again.