VII.
Dame Margaret took her way along the street leading to the Christmas market—holding the Agnes by hand, who every now and then urged her to make greater haste. From the deep blue sky the stars poured down their pale silver light upon the dazzling fresh-fallen snow. Crowds of people were hurrying up and down, talking merrily, or, divided into groups, stood gazing eagerly and curiously upon the bright display of the fair. Bright lights were burning in the stands and shops of the tradesmen, displaying all their treasures to the astonished eye. Here peeped out the pleasant, friendly faces of dolls with waxen heads, dressed after the newest fashion in little hoods or Florence hats, while others stood more retired, like ladies and gentlemen, splendidly wrapped in cloaks and furs, as if they feared the cold. A varied medley of hussars in rich embroidered uniform hung there; huntsmen with, rifle and pouch, chimney-sweeps and Tyrolese, hermits and friars, Greeks near their mortal enemies the Turks, and Moors, standing peacefully side by side. The plashing fish swam round in a glass panel, whilst close by stood a dark oak-wood case, in which leaden bears and stags were seized by hounds and hunters of the same metal. Elsewhere was a whole regiment of bearded grenadiers, arranged in stiff array, with Turkish music. A frightful fortress, with paper walls and wooden cannon, frowned next a kitchen where was to be seen the pretty sight of cook, hearth, pans, spits, plates, etc. Here sweetmeats, choice pastry, tarts, chocolate, almonds, gingerbread, etc., excited in many a dainty palate long desire and hard temptation. Golden apples gleamed forth from dark leaves, nuts rattled in silver bowls, while in another place low cribs, with water, mountain, and valley, herds and herdsmen, with angels in the air and on the earth, sweetly represented the new-born child lying in the cradle, carefully watched by Mary and Joseph.
Little Agnes gazed with delighted eyes upon all this splendor, and often laid her tender hand upon her youthful breast, as if to repress its longings [{402}] and sounds escaped her lips which only too plainly expressed the joy of her heart.
But at length dame Margaret thought it was time to go home. "Do let us first go to find Herr Höss," begged Agnes, "his crib is always the prettiest," and laughing good-naturedly she drew the obliging Margaret along with her to the antiquary. They found him occupied in attending upon an elderly lady. Did Agnes see aright? Did her eyes deceive her? "Yes, yes," she suddenly exclaimed in great distress, "it is my Bible, my dear picture-book!" and in a moment she released herself from Margaret and ran up to the lady.
"Oh, dear lady," cried she, eagerly, "do not buy it; you cannot, you must not buy it; that book belongs to me!" The lady looked at the little girl in great astonishment.
"What are you dreaming of, you silly little thing?" grumbled the antiquary, vexed at the unwelcome interruption. "It is mine; I bought it, and at a high price."
"That cannot be, dear sir," earnestly protested the little girl. "I beg you give me back my picture-book; I will give you all the money I have," and saying this she drew out her little purse, which contained, alas! only four pennies, her little savings. "Take it," said she, "only give me my picture-book."
"Oh! you little sharper," said the antiquary jeeringly, "that would be a great profit; I have paid more florins for it than you have pennies."
"I beg you, for heaven's sake," sobbed Agnes, with folded hands and tears streaming from her blue eyes. "I tell you, upon my honor, it belongs to me; only see, there is my name on the title-page, which my brother wrote there in Latin letters."
The lady turned the leaf over and read aloud, "Frederic Schein!"