it; and that he, too, would share in their happiness and comfort if he would learn to be good and kind, and would not be greedy and selfish any more. Stephen, as you may suppose, was astonished and bewildered at such wonderful news, and he did not know what to think or say. He did not ask where the money had come from, but he never afterwards said any bad things of Number Nip, although Number Nip had punished him so badly, and he never wished to have any of the money for himself. He was quite content that the good priest should keep it, and take care of it for his wife and children, and that he himself should share their happiness and comfort without getting any of the money. Ever after that Stephen was a kind husband and a kind father. The good priest bought a little farm for Stephen and his wife with part of the money, and Stephen worked the little farm very diligently; for although he had been a rough man when he was a glass-seller, he had never been a lazy man. So Stephen and his wife and children. K all lived and worked at the little farm very happily together for many a day; and their friend the good priest managed the rest of the money for them with great care and honesty. When the good woman offered him some money at any time because she knew he was very poor, he just said, "No! no! my daughter; the money was sent to you, not to me, and I am more than repaid for any trouble I have had by the little good that I have done you." But as he would take no money, the good woman offered him a present which he did take, and that was a grand new priest's robe, to wear in church on Christmas Day, and Easter Day, and other high days, when everything in church was grander than usual. The good old priest was a kind and faithful friend to Stephen and Jane and their children so long as he lived; and when he died, they all felt like orphans who had lost the best and the kindest of fathers. HE Countess Cecilia was a famous and fashionable lady, and she had two beautiful daughters. The Countess had not much to do in her grand house, because she had so many people to do all sorts of things for her; and she was always thinking too much about herself, because she had so little to do. Whenever she had any slight pain or ache in any part of her body, she fancied herself ill. Once she fancied herself very ill, because she had many aches all through her body. She had aches in her fingers and aches in her toes, and aches in her ears, and I do not know what other aches besides. So The doctor did the best he could for her; but when he saw that his medicines could not cure all her aches, and that as soon as one ache was cured another came, he told her to go to Carlsbad, in Bohemia, and drink the healing waters there, as they would make her well if anything would. she said she would go to Carlsbad; and when her two lovely daughters knew that she was going to Carlsbad, and that they were to go with her, they almost danced for joy. They had been at Carlsbad when they were little girls, and liked it very much; and as they had since grown to be young ladies, they were sure that they would like it still better now. After everything was arranged for going to Carlsbad, the Countess was impatient to be off to get her aches cured, and the daughters were impatient to be off to see all the fashionable people who would be there, and to enjoy the promenades, and the balls, and other pleasant amusements that would be agoing. So the great old travelling-carriage was got ready, the strongest and steadiest horses were yoked to it, the Countess and her two daugh ters took their seats in it, the old postilion Carl got into his saddle, and the old footman Fritz got up on the box. When all was ready, the postilion whipped up the horses, and away they trotted. The roads were very bad in those days, and their badness often caused accidents to carriages. So an accident happened to the Countess's carriage just as it had reached a little village, in the afternoon of the first day of the journey. One of the axles broke, and another had to be got in its place. The village wright set to work to make one, but he told the Countess that it would not be ready until next morning; and she had no help for it but to stay in the village inn all night, which she feared would not mend her aches, as the beds looked hard, while the food did not appear so nice as she would have liked. When Carl and Fritz were sitting in the kitchen of the inn, drinking a bottle of wine together in the evening, a tall and stout-looking man with a red beard happened to be sitting drinking beer at another table. Carl and Fritz talked mysteriously about Number Nip, and told each other stories which they had |