passion for a young girl named Lise, who, however, would not listen to him until he had a cottage to offer her, as both of them were very poor. Peter had already spoken to Lise, and found her quite ready and willing to co-operate with him in a scheme he had projected. He requested of his master a handful or two of shining batzen *, to enable him to win the wine-tun. The bishop let him take as much as he pleased, in order that he might sit down to table so much the freer from care.

Peter now went again to the pretty Lise, and showed her the bright money, which quite covered her small table: they settled about a cottage, which a poor widow had long wished to sell, and Peter engaged to pay the price for Lise, as soon as she had brought him what he required.

The following morning Lise went to weed in the field through which Conrad was accustomed to drive his flock to pasture. Hardly had he caught a glimpse of her in the distance, than he flew towards her, accompanied by his ram Harm, seated himself by her side, and repeated to her all that he had so often said before, in the hope of obtaining his wishes. But Lise answered him very coldly, saying, she had heard it all a thousand times, that if he had nothing to tell her about a cottage of his own, he already knew her determination.

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Conrad was going sorrowful away, when a half-friendly look from Lise encouraged him to ask her, why she dismissed him so prudishly, and if there were anything he could do for her. "Well, then, by way of trial, let us see whether you really will do something for me," answered. Lise. (The bishop's pet ram had in the meantime thrust himself between Conrad and herself, and was eating some bread out of her hand.) Suppose I were now to beg of you to give me your Harm, that I might sell him?" Conrad's heart sank within him. He answered sorrowfully: "Every thing in the world save this. If the bishop could not feed my Harm every evening, I would not be witness to his distress. Take ten of the best sheep out of the whole flock, take all the fifty that belong to me, only leave me the one poor ram." "See!" exclaimed Lise, "you are like all men.

* A small coin.

Away with your fifty sheep! Can you refuse me such a trifle for a marriage-present? you would make a nice husband when the honey-moon was over. Go to your bishop, and let him feed his ram, while you kiss his slipper." They thus continued jarring for some time. Conrad wept for sheer vexation. Lise at length confessed to him that she had already sold the ram, to get the little cottage which they had both so often longed for, and that she must deliver it on that day, cost what it might; as she had given her word for it, and would not be called a liar She then let fall a few tears, said that all the fond hopes she had cherished of being able to purchase a cottage, in which they might live happily together with their children, were now blighted; and then asked him whether sheep did not die every day, whether he never lost one, whether none were ever stolen, whether the wolf never ate up one of the counted sheep.

Love triumphed. Conrad gave her his hand, and promised that before noon he would deliver the ram to her, and Lise gave Conrad hers, and engaged to be his wife within a month; and perhaps something besides into the bargain.

Lise quickly returned to the town, and Conrad gazed long after her. But the joy of his betrothal was much clouded by the thoughts of the trial he had to undergo before his august and gracious master, in whose service he had until then been so happy, and who took such great pleasure in the ram.

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He now stood alone in the field where Lise had been weeding, his thoughts turned inwards, and his eyes fixed on the ground. At length he struck his shepherd's staff into the earth, hung his coat upon it, and placed his hat on the top; and now a dialogue or rather a monologue ensued, during which Harm from time to time made an accompanying movement. "God's blessing, my Lord Bishop." "Good evening, Conrad; but where is Harm?" Harm! my Lord Bishop; he is lost! he has run away!" As Conrad was thus speaking, Harm thrust himself between his feet to gaze on the strange object before which his master was making so many obeisances-" Conrad! Conrad! (with a shake of the head) he is too much accustomed to his bread. Harm could not run away, that will not pass." Conrad tried another dialogue, in which he represented to the bishop.

that the ram had been stolen, when Harm interrupted him by a violent push, just as he was going to repeat his obeisances: He is not to be deceived so easily," cried Conrad, "that will never do."

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Thus he continued for some time talking to himself, and always ending with a shake of his head, and "Conrad, Conrad! that will never do ;" and yet," he added, "I must deliver up the ram before noon; for if Lise, who has already sold it, does not keep her word, she will be a deceiver and cannot be my wife."

At length he gave a high spring in the air for joy, and cried out: "Honesty is the best policy! That will do, that will do." Then, putting on his coat and hat, he drove his flock further. And before noon, with a deep sigh, he delivered to Lise his favourite Harm, which she exchanged for the money to purchase the cottage, without bestowing a thought on the dilemma in which her lover was placed.

The evening of that day was fixed for the proof of Conrad's honesty without his having any suspicion of it. Both the bishops were sitting in the court-yard over their evening cup, expecting the shepherd with his flock, who was to decide their wager. The heart of each beat high, and they spoke but little, as each would rather yield to the other the honour of constructing the great wine-tun. But Peter, the privy councillor, felt quite at ease, and, laughing in his sleeve, was rejoicing in victory, and his well-laid plans beforehand; for he had got the bishop's pet ram safe in the stable; and how could Conrad venture to disclose the real truth, which would bring down upon him the displeasure of his master, and deprive him for ever of his livelihood?

Thus thought Peter, the privy councillor. In the meantime Conrad drove his flock across the castle-yard, and just before the bishops. Peter chuckled, for he thought he could read anxiety and trepidation in Conrad's countenance. This time no ram sprang joyfully towards Bishop Henry to be fed. "Where is Harm?" asked the prelate with a significant look. Conrad answered with a firm voice: "I have sold him that is the truth-Honesty is the best Policy, is my maxim, my Lord Bishop, as you know, and, please God, it shall ever be so."

Peter's face visibly grew longer. The bishop exclaimed with darkened countenance and trembling voice: "Why hast thou sold the ram without informing me? I would have given thee tenfold for it. Dost thou not know"Hear me, my Lord Bishop," said Conrad; Lise tempted me, as Eve once tempted Adam, and some knave tempted Lise, as the evil one tempted Eve. If he will give me back my Harm I will not name him." (Peter turned aside full of rage, for away were his shining batzens, and his scarlet cloak, and even the ram, which must else have paid the reckoning.) "Lise," continued he, "had sold the ram without informing me beforehand; otherwise it never would have happened. I was therefore obliged to give it to her, much as it grieved me; if I had not, she would have been a liar, and now she is my wife! This is the real truth, my Lord Bishop. You can now do what you please with me. Done is done; only do not punish Lise—a weak creature is soon seduced by a serpent.'

Bishop Henry was about to chide, but the other bishop interrupted him, saying, with an angry side-glance at Peter, who skulked away: I have lost the wager; for this was

the trial."

And Bishop Henry did not chide. Winning the wager gave him pleasure, but more than all the casks of wine he rejoiced over the integrity of his servant, and felt also what love is capable of.

Both the bishops exclaimed: "Honesty is indeed the best policy." Bishop Henry added: "As a reward for thy honesty, I will be at the expense of the wedding, and half of the flock shall be thine." And," continued the stranger bishop, "thy favourite Harm thou shalt have again, and shalt keep the cottage as a christening gift for thy first-born."

And the bishop who lost the wager had the great winetun constructed, which formerly drew so many travellers to Grüningen, and which still lies on the Spiegelsberg near Halberstadt.

THE DEVIL'S MILL.

THE summit of the Rammberg, a mountain in the Harz, which rises about two thousand feet above the level of the sea, offers to the traveller an unexpected splendid prospect. The whole rounded summit is covered with large blocks of granite, partly heaped upon each other, partly strewed around. On its highest point a group of these masses is particularly conspicuous. Here are numerous layers of such granite blocks of considerable circuit, piled one on another, partly rounded and smoothed, as if by the hand of man; these form a kind of pyramid, standing quite isolated, and rising about thirty feet above the flat summit of the mountain: round about them lie dispersed thousands of greater and smaller blocks of granite. About the middle of the last century, a tower was built on the summit of the mountain, the view from which is, perhaps, unique in North Germany, as it commands both sides of the Harz. These masses of rock are known in the neighbourhood under the name of the DEVIL'S MILL, concerning which people relate the following tradition.

Rammberg derives its name from the god Ramm, whom the Old Saxons worshipped here. On the point of the rock which is now called the Devil's Mill once stood a statue of the god; and the inhabitants of the most beautiful and populous part of Old Saxony might see the fires which the priests here kindled for their sacrifices. The ascending columns of smoke announced to the inhabitants of the Harz, far and near, when new victims were required. Then the worshippers of Ramm flocked from every part of the Hartingau, and rejoiced at seeing the bright towering flame.

When Charles and Winfrid* abolished German heathenism, Ramm's fire was also gradually quenched; but instead of the god, the devil, for a time, played a part on the inhospitable mountain.

A miller had built himself a mill on the declivity of the Rammberg, but which at times lacked wind. The wish, *See page 466, note.