Many charming incidents of childhood follow—accounts of the riddles that she gives and guesses, descriptions of her quaint childish philosophy regarding the birds, the dogs, the trees, and the deep problem of human sorrow.

After a while she begins to earn her living by tending a flock of geese, and when the Rodelbauer, her guardian, wants her to give up such work because it is a reproach to her, she answers steadfastly, “I must carry out what I have begun.”

It is a sad life she leads with the Black Marann, a widow, who through long years has been waiting for the return of an only son, from whom she hears nothing. The boy has in fact been killed in Algiers, yet no one in the village dares to tell her, though they tell Amrei, and the child has to bear the burden of this secret. But amid all this gloom, the heart of the orphan girl is strengthened by the precepts of her melancholy companion, who tells her how much better it is to be sufficient to one’s self than to depend upon another for happiness. And when at the wedding at the Rodelbauer’s no one will dance with “Little Barefoot” (for so the girl is called), she dances by herself and dances well, and says “It is better to dance alone, for then I do not need to wait for a partner.”

But the main purpose of her life is to cheer and stimulate her younger brother, a boy who is weak-spirited, complaining and unsteady, whose character is indeed a sharp contrast to her own. Into his mind she tries to instil her own spirit of independence. He finds service in a neighboring village, and she will not weep at parting with him until after he is gone, and then the world seems very empty to her. Dami is unjustly turned away from his situation and loses all his little belongings in a fire. He works for a while with a charcoal-burner, and then resolves to go to America. His sister secretly rejoices at his bold purpose, but reproves him severely when he wants to revenge himself upon the master who has discharged him. It is largely through her efforts that his passage money is raised. She gives him his father’s ax and sack, and tells him that these two things mean that he must work and gather and save the results of his labor, and that they must be the inspiration of his life.

Meanwhile she has been taken into service at the Rodelbauer’s, and her goodness and skill have made her indispensable, though she suffers much from the taunts and scolding of Rosel, the daughter of the household. Her clothing is poor, but always very neat, for, says the author, “Neatness is the ornament of poverty, costing nothing, but not to be purchased.”

On one occasion Amrei is unexpectedly asked to accompany her master’s family to a wedding party in a neighboring village, and while there, when she overhears Rosel’s remark, “It is only our serving maid,” she says to herself, “Don’t let a word spoil all your pleasure. If you begin that you will walk everywhere upon thorns.”

An unknown youth, who comes riding a gray horse, dances with her. There is a lively description of the festival, of her enthusiasm and the joy of that dance, and of her thoughts in her little room in the still night when she returns.

The scene now changes to the house of the Landfriedbauer, a wealthy peasant, whose son Johannes is sent out to seek a wife. His mother follows the boy down the road and has a long confidential talk with him, which is charming for its naïvete and shrewdness. Her description of the signs by which a good wife may be told is quite elaborate. Johannes must notice how she behaves towards her servants, how she blows out the light; he must observe her if he can in anger, “when the hidden inner man leaps out”; he must notice how she laughs, whether her flowers thrive, whether she is willing to sing a second part or always wants to set the key. “A girl should never go with empty hands, and she must leap three hedges to pick up a feather.” But in her doings she must be quiet and constant, not filled with mad eagerness, “as if she would tear down a piece of the world.” He must notice whether she unties a knot or cuts it, whether she keeps her copybooks and early treasures, whether she wears her shoes inside or outside, and whether she cares for the poor. Thus furnished with much useful information, Johannes rides forth on his gray horse to seek his wife.

Now the father of Johannes has written to the Krappenzacher in Amrei’s village, to take his son to the best houses there, and the Krappenzacher, by agreement with the Rodelbauer, is to have a hundred kronenthalers if Johannes marries Rosel. The young man is ostensibly looking for another gray horse, so a horse of that color is put into the Rodelbauer’s stable and the young man is brought thither to examine him. On this occasion Rosel is to come out and milk the cows as proof of her housewifery, but as she knows nothing about milking, the experiment is made with a full pail and with a cow already milked. While the men are discussing their horse trade, Rosel’s voice is heard in song near by, and “Little Barefoot” sings the second part. Johannes asks who they are, and the Rodelbauer tells him that Amrei is an adopted child of whom his father was once the guardian, for he knows that this will sound better than to say she is a servant.

In the meantime Amrei has discovered that the visitor is the same as he who has danced with her at the wedding, and whose mother it was that gave her a necklace when she was a child; and Johannes on his part finds in Little Barefoot the qualities of which his mother has spoken. In a sudden outbreak of rage and jealousy Rosel strikes Amrei to the ground. Just at that moment Johannes appears, and naturally it is not Rosel but Little Barefoot whom he chooses for his wife.