"Poor fellow!" the woman said. "Why does he not poultice it?
"I should advise you to poultice," she said, addressing Tim.
Tim gave a grunt--which might have meant anything--and Ralph said, in a whisper:
"Don't talk to him. Poor uncle, he is so bad tempered, now, it puts him in a rage if anyone speaks to him; because it hurts him so, to answer. At ordinary times, he is very good tempered; but now, oh!" and Ralph made a little pantomime, to express the extreme badness of Tim's temper.
"You are not of Wiesbaden, are you?" the woman asked. "I do not know you by sight."
"No," Ralph said; "we are from Holzhausen, a village some eight miles upon the other side of Wiesbaden."
"Ah!" the woman said, "I have a sister living there; surely you must know her. She is the wife of Klopstock, the carpenter."
"Surely," Ralph said, "she is my neighbor; everyone knows her. She is very like you."
"Well now, you are the first person who has ever said that," the woman said, surprised. "I am so short, and she is so tall."
"Yes, she is tall--very tall," Ralph said, very gravely; "but there is something about the expression of your eyes which reminds me of Mrs. Klopstock.