None shall harm you,
None alarm you,
Sacred be your dear retreat;
Love shall guard you,
Love reward you,
For your music pure and sweet.
Oh how hateful,
How ungrateful,
He who would disturb your rest!
No dear treasure,
Wake your measure,
Softly may you cheer my breast."
THE GERMAN MUSICIANS.
On a dark, rainy day, two weary-looking street minstrels took shelter from the storm, under the projecting roof of a horse shed. Not far from the place stood a small but pretty school-house, in which might be seen a group of bright-faced and busy children; some conning their lessons, some reciting with earnest attention, and others rejoicing with childhood's happy freedom from care, at a temporary release from some expected recitation.
The teacher, during the intervals of occupation, spied out the poor wanderers, and feeling a desire to help them, she concluded to invite them into the school-room, after receiving a promise from the sympathizing circle, that the interruption should not interfere in the least with their studies. Accordingly, the foreigners, who had begun to find their covering insufficient against the drenching rain, very gladly accepted the invitation, and modestly took their places at the farther end of the apartment.
Many bright and inquisitive eyes were turned upon them; but remembering their promise, the children again turned their prompt attention to their various exercises, and while the strangers were busily engaged with some books and a slate, they soon accomplished their required duties.
As a reward for their attention, they were allowed at recess to listen to several gay tunes upon the organ, accompanied by the tambourine, and very soon their lively feet joined in a merry dance. After this irrepressible ebullition of their glee, they each played a tune themselves, and when fully satisfied, voluntarily presented the tired ones with donations from their luncheon baskets, and with flowers that decked the room.
With these the boy made a wreath for his sister's head, but the girl adorned the little image of the virgin placed upon the organ; and then after a few entreaties, they both sang some German songs. In return the scholars sang their prettiest pieces from the "School Singer," and at any familiar melody, the faces of the listeners beamed with pleasure and delight. Before the group was dismissed for home, the boy asked for a pen and paper; and during the time he was left alone, he wrote the following history of himself and his pretty sister for the teacher and her scholars.
"My name is Hendrik Glaubenstein, and I am fourteen years old. My sister Gertruyd, who is as good as an angel, is just sixteen. We have left our poor old father and mother in Germany, and have come to this happy country to make money.
I went to school every winter, and in summer I staid at home on account of work; but after it was done, my sister and I studied together, sometimes in the fields, sometimes in our little cabin. My sister earned all she could by spinning yarn and knitting stockings, which I took once a fortnight to the nearest town to sell. In the mean time I earned all I could, by driving the sheep of a rich neighbor of ours to pasture.