The day appeared very long, and glad enough he was when the sinking sun warned him that it was time to return.  He found his mother dusting the tools, and looking sadder than he had ever seen her since his father died.

“We wont sell them, dear mother,” he cried exultingly, dancing round the table and shaking the florins in his hat.  “See what luck your blessing brought me this morning!” and he related his adventure with the hunters.

They at once started off to pay Bridgetta the five florins, and, as compensation for the loss of the milk for so many days, they offered her the extra florin, which she coldly and decidedly refused, asking no questions, and appearing very anxious to get rid of them.  As they walked home, they entered the church for a few minutes, and, after reverently kneeling at one of the side altars, the widow dropped the remaining florin into the poor-box.  It was the largest thank-offering she had ever been able to make in her life.  The warehouse was at the corner of the street on the south side of the church, and as the clock struck six they hurried up the stairs of the long, low building, and entered a small room fitted up as an office.  Herr Dahn was busily writing in a large ledger, but quitting it as they entered, he said approvingly: 

“So here you are!  That’s right; business people should be punctual—­never get on otherwise!  But where are the tools?”

The widow told him all about the six florins, and then placing a toy violin on the counter, she asked him to give his opinion of it.  He twisted the little instrument about, carefully examining the workmanship while he talked, and finally declared that it was a very fair specimen for a self-taught lad.  He evidently thought more of it than he chose to say, for after some conversation with his foreman, to whom he showed the violin, he greatly astonished the poor woman by offering to take Stephan at once and place him under one of his best workmen if she could do without his earnings for a time, as of course the goats must be given up.  Then, noticing the boy’s delight and the mother’s anxious, undecided countenance, he added before she could reply: 

“Perhaps, if Stephan is steady and careful enough, I can trust him here alone every morning to sweep and dust the warehouses, for which I will pay him thirty kreutzers a week (nearly a shilling).  I suppose he gets little more than that for tending the goats.”

“Oh! thank you, sir,” said the boy eagerly, anticipating his mother’s reply, “I will, indeed, be careful and steady.”

“Gently, boy, your mother is to decide.”

“I cannot thank you enough, sir,” she quickly answered.  “Your offer is more than we had ever hoped for, and I trust my child’s conduct will prove how grateful we both feel.  He would like to begin at once, I know, but must, of course, wait a few days till another boy is found to take his place as herd-boy.”