When the Prince, by way of emphasizing his good-will, offered Ludovico any post he might choose, he asked for a very modest place indeed, saying, with bitter contempt, that it was good enough "for the father of a mason."
[THE HARDEST TUG OF ALL.]
A BAVARIAN STORY.
BY DAVID KER.
The sun was just beginning to sink over the beautiful hills of Southern Bavaria. A big red-bearded man, with arms bare to the elbow, stood at the door of a little mountain inn upon one of the higher slopes, watching, with his broad brown hand arched over his eyes, a group of five men who had just issued from the mass of dark green pines that covered the crest of the opposite ridge.
"One, two, three, four, five," counted the landlord. "They're all there but Hermann; but they've found no game, I can see. Where can Hermann be, I wonder? He won't come back empty-handed, I'll be bound."
"Hermann's late," said one of the foresters, "but I warrant he'll be ready for his supper when he does come."
"And well he may, if he has found any game, for I can tell you, lads, that to carry a quarter of venison from the Riesenberg to my door, on a roasting day like this, would be a job for Strong Schalk himself."
"And who may Strong Schalk be?" asked a sunburned peddler who was sitting beside the window.