"The good God is wont to give more than we either desire or deserve," croaked Hans, "when He sets about giving at all."
II.
There was no time to be lost.
The services of the day would soon begin, and Hans had set his heart on Gottlieb's singing that very day in the cathedral.
The choir-master's eyes sparkled as he listened to the boy; but he was an austere man, and would not utter a word to make the child think himself of value.
"Not bad raw material," he said, "but very raw. I suppose thou hast never before sung a note to any one who understood music?"
"Only for the mother and the little sister," the child replied in a low, humbled tone, beginning to fear the raven would bring no bread after all, "and sometimes in the litanies and the processions."
"Sing no more for babes and nurses, and still less among the beggars in the street-processions," pronounced the master, severely. "It strains and vulgarizes the tone. And, with training, I don't know but that, after all, we might make something of thee—in time, in time."
Gottlieb's anxiety mastered his timidity, and he ventured to say:
"Gracious lord! if it is a long time, how can we all wait? I thought it would be to-day! The mother wants the bread to-day."