Thus spoke the husband—went into the room—pressed the hand of the stranger, and spoke—
“Welcome, pious pilgrim! your object is so praiseworthy; a draught taken with so brave a man must taste doubly good!”
They sat down opposite to each other in a room half dark—the children sat upon their father’s knees.
“Relate to us something, father, as usual!” said the boy.
“That won't do to-day,” replied the father; “for we have a guest here—but what does my hunter’s spear do there? have you been again playing with it? carry it away into the corner.”
“You have there,” said the pilgrim, “a young knight who knows already how to kill boars—also you are, I hear, a renowned huntsman in this valley; therefore you have something of the spirit of a knight in you.”
“Yes!” said the vine-labourer, “old love rusts not, neither does the love of arms; so often as I look upon that spear, I wish it were there for some use ... formerly ... but, aged sir, we will not think of the past! Wife! bring to the revered—”
At this minute the Haus-frau entered, placed a jug and goblets on the table, and said—
“May it refresh and do thee good!”
“That it does already,” said the pilgrim, “presented by so fair a hand, and with such a friendly countenance!”