It was not so much on account of the advantage he had gained thereby; but, like the rest of them, he had found it great sport to outwit the "gentleman farmer," as they called me.
The meadow farmer really hated me and Joseph; for if it had not been for us he would have been the first man in the village. Wherever he went, they inquired, "How goes it with Waldfried?" or "How is Joseph Linker?" It annoyed him that they did not ask after him first of all.
He would have been glad to take a share in politics, but was too mean to bestow the requisite amount of time upon such matters; and then he would say, "Such folks as Funk should not be permitted to put in their say; there is nothing behind him."
We had just reached the saw-mill, down in the valley, when we saw a large hay-wagon coming along the road in the direction of the meadow. Martella sat on top: Rothfuss was walking beside the horses.
Martella alighted. She looked quite troubled. She welcomed Richard, and asked me, "Where have you left Ernst?"
"He is not with us."
"Where then?"
We had no time to reply before Martella called out, "So he must go to war after all!"
"Of course."
"Of course? Of course?" Martella asked repeatedly. She stopped for a moment, and removing the rake from her shoulder rested herself upon it.