“We now climbed a hill, which was planted with birchtrees, and from its summit looked down into a little valley, likewise full of birches.  In the midst of the trees stood a little hut.  A lively barking came to our ears, and presently a spry little dog was dancing around the old woman and wagging his tail.  Presently he came to me, examined me from all sides, and then returned with friendly actions to the old woman.

“When we were descending the hill I heard some wonderful singing, which seemed to come from the hut.  It sounded like a bird, and ran

  O solitude
  Of lonely wood,
  Where none intrude,
  Thou bringest good
  For every mood,
  O solitude!

“These few words were repeated over and over; if I were to attempt to describe the effect, it was somewhat like the blended notes of a bugle and a shawm.

“My curiosity was strained to the utmost.  Without waiting for the old woman’s invitation, I walked into the hut with her.  Dusk had already set in.  Everything was in proper order; a few goblets stood in a cupboard, some strange-looking vessels lay on a table, and a bird was hanging in a small, shiny cage by the window.  And he, indeed, it was that I had heard singing.  The old woman gasped and coughed, seemingly as if she would never get over it.  Now she stroked the little dog, now talked to the bird, which answered her only with its usual words.  Furthermore, she acted in no way as if I were present.  While I was thus watching her, a series of shudders passed through my body; for her face was constantly twitching and her head shaking, as if with age, and in such a way that it was impossible for one to tell how she really looked.

“When she finally ceased coughing she lighted a candle, set a very small table, and laid the supper on it.  Then she looked around at me and told me to take one of the woven cane chairs.  I sat down directly opposite her, and the candle stood between us.  She folded her bony hands and prayed aloud, all the time twitching her face in such a way that it almost made me laugh.  I was very careful, however, not to do anything to make her angry.

“After supper she prayed again, and then showed me to a bed in a tiny little side-room—­she herself slept in the main room.  I did not stay awake long, for I was half dazed.  I woke up several times during the night, however, and heard the old woman coughing and talking to the dog, and occasionally I heard the bird, which seemed to be dreaming and sang only a few isolated words of its song.  These stray notes, united with the rustling of the birches directly in front of my window, and also with the song of the far-off nightingale, made such a strange combination that I felt all the time, not as if I were awake, but as if I were lapsing into another, still stranger, dream.