It was only seven o'clock in the morning, but school would begin in half an hour. These little German girls had to study longer and harder than their American cousins. They spent at least an hour a day more in their schoolrooms.
As they trudged along the road, they passed a little stream which came trickling down the hillside.
"I wonder if there is any story about that brook," said Bertha. "There's a story about almost everything in our dear old country, I'm sure."
"You have heard father tell about the stream flowing down the side of the Kandel, haven't you?" asked Gretchen.
"Yes, I think so. But I don't remember it very well. What is the story, Gretchen?"
"You know the Kandel is one of the highest peaks in the Black Forest. You've seen it, Bertha."
"Yes, of course, but tell the story, Gretchen."
"Well, then, once upon a time there was a poor little boy who had no father or mother. He had to tend cattle on the side of the Kandel. At that time there was a deep lake at the summit of the mountain. But the lake had no outlet.
"The people who lived in the valley below often said, 'Dear me! how glad we should be if we could only have plenty of fresh water. But no stream flows near us. If we could only bring some of the water down from the lake!'
"They were afraid, however, to make a channel out of the lake. The water might rush down with such force as to destroy their village. They feared to disturb it.