Now when all was made ready Aunt Jacoba begged of Ann that she should hold the sore closed while Master Ulsenius made the linen bands wet.  I remembered my friend’s weakness and came close to her, to take her place unmarked; but she whispered:  “Nay, leave me,” in a commanding voice, so that I saw full well she meant it in earnest, and withdrew without a word.  And then I beheld a noble sight; for though she was pale she did as she was bidden, nor did she turn her eyes off the wound.  But her bosom rose and fell fast, as if some danger threatened her, and her nostrils quivered, and I was minded to hold out my arms to save her from falling.  But she stood firm till all was done, and none but I was aware of her having defied the base foe with such true valor.

Thenceforth she ever did me good service without shrinking; and whensoever thereafter I had some hateful duty to do which meseemed I might never bring myself to fulfil, I would remember Ann holding my aunt’s wound.  And out of all this grew the good saying, “They who will, can”—­which the children are wont to call my motto.

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     As every word came straight from her heart
     Be cautious how they are compassionate
     Beware lest Satan find thee idle! 
     Brought imagination to bear on my pastimes
     Comparing their own fair lot with the evil lot of others
     Faith and knowledge are things apart
     Flee from hate as the soul’s worst foe
     For the sake of those eyes you forgot all else
     Her eyes were like open windows
     Last Day we shall be called to account for every word we utter
     Laugh at him with friendly mockery, such as hurts no man
     Maid who gives hope to a suitor though she has no mind to hear
     May they avoid the rocks on which I have bruised my feet
     Men folks thought more about me than I deemed convenient
     No man gains profit by any experience other than his own
     One of those women who will not bear to be withstood
     The god Amor is the best schoolmaster
     They who will, can
     When men-children deem maids to be weak and unfit for true sport

MARGERY

By Georg Ebers

Volume 2.

CHAPTER VI.

Summer wore away; the oats in the forest were garnered and the vintage had begun in the vine-lands.  It was a right glorious sunny day; and if you ask me at which time of the year forest life is the sweeter, whether in Springtide or in Autumn, I could scarce say.