The landlord met them at the open door, and greeted them as if old acquaintances.

“Why, neighbor, you have brought me a fine flock of birds!” he said, cordially.

“Yes, they are choice singing birds and will roost with you to-night and to-morrow will fly away to Frankfort.”

“All right, all right!  We have a room that will suit them exactly.”

“These boys spoke of being thirsty, neighbor.  Will you have some fresh water brought for them?  I offered them something stronger in the shape of a bottle of mineral water or sarsaparilla, but they prefer the water.”

The order was given, and a large stone pitcher and glasses soon appeared.  The moment Pixy saw it he sprang up, put his feet on the pitcher and tried to lick the drops from it.

“Wait a bit, Pixy!  I am so thirsty,” exclaimed Fritz, and he drained the glass of cold water without stopping.

“My boy,” said Mr. Furman, “the true friend of our poor dependent dumb creatures attends to their wants first; the really kind master will not let them wait while he satisfies his own hunger and thirst.”

Fritz was ashamed of his treatment of Pixy, and was glad to pour some of the water into a basin which the innkeeper reached to him.  He carried it to the porch, where Pixy ran quickly and drank as if he was afraid the basin would be taken away from him.

“Now, boys, I must go on home,” said Mr. Furman as he shook hands with them.  “Good-bye!  Remember me to your fathers, and take good care of Pixy.”

CHAPTER III

AT THE SWAN INN

The moment the carriage was out of sight the boys turned to their own needs.

“I don’t believe I was ever so hungry in my life,” ejaculated Franz, and the others agreed with him, and set about the best way to have their hunger satisfied.

“Mr. Swan, what have you for supper?” asked Fritz.

The landlord laughed heartily at the name, but as the boy had given it in all sincerity, thinking that, as it was the Swan Inn, it must take its name from its owner, he did not correct him.  Instead, he asked a question in response.

“What would you like to have?”

“Have you fresh lettuce?”

“Yes, plenty of it; what else?”

“Roasted potatoes?”

“Yes; you can have roasted potatoes.  What kind of meat will you have with it?  We have a fine roast of veal.”

“The very thing we like!” cried the boys jubilantly, but the ever frugal Fritz regretted that they had spoken for the veal, and wondered whether they could not change the order.

“I am afraid it will cost us too much,” he said in a whisper, but the landlord had already gone to the kitchen and they had to let it stand.

“It may be that we are in an expensive hotel,” he continued, “and our night’s lodging may cost us a good sum.  But I will tell you what we can do.  We will not take breakfast here, but will buy a roll in the village and when we come to a brook we can eat it.  A roll and a cup of fresh water will be enough breakfast for us.”