“‘Da trat hervor Einer, anzusehen wie die Sternen Nacht.’ Good! good!” she exclaimed, while her dark and deep eye sparkled.

“There you have a dim and mighty archangel fitly set before you! The line is worth a hundred pages of fustian. ‘Ich w�ge die Gedanken in der Schale meines Zornes und die Werke mit dem Gewichte meines Grimms.’ I like it!”

Both were again silent.

“Is there ony country where they talk i’ that way?” asked the old woman, looking up from her knitting.

“Yes, Hannah — a far larger country than England, where they talk in no other way.”

“Well, for sure case, I knawn’t how they can understand t’