"Do you see that light over there, away off in the distance?" asked Hans. "It comes from a charcoal-pit. I can hear the voices of the men at their work."
"I shouldn't like to stay out in the dark woods all the time and make charcoal," answered his sister. "I should get lonesome and long for the sunlight."
"It isn't very easy work, either," said Hans. "After the trees have been cut down, the pits have to be made with the greatest care, and the wood must be burned just so slowly to change it into charcoal. I once spent a day in the forest with some charcoal-burners. They told such good stories that night came before I had thought of it."
"I can see the village ahead of us," said Bertha, joyfully.
A few minutes afterward, the children were running up the stone steps of their own home.
"We had such a good time," Hans told his mother, while Bertha went to Gretchen and gave her some cakes she had brought her from the coffee-party.
"I'm so sorry you couldn't go," she told her sister.
"Perhaps I can next time," answered Gretchen. "But, of course, we could not all leave mother when she had so much work to do. So I just kept busy and tried to forget all about it."