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 any more. After heartily shaking her hand, he hurried away.

The large raspberries were peeping out between the green leaves, and the golden plums were dropping from the heavily laden branches. From morning till night on these beautiful summer days Mux fairly swam in uninterrupted bliss. Before he had even opened his eyes in the morning, he would call out to his mother in his sleep: “Oh, mother, are we in Iller-Stream still? Are we still here?” Then the hours of the day began, each more lovely than the last, and Mux could not tell which was the best.

As the boy spent most of the day in the stable, the hayloft, and the barn, his mother had been obliged to make him a special stable costume. The little boy loved to watch the milking of the cows, and he never tired of admiring the horses and the goat.

Matthew had become his best friend. The gardener constantly thought out pleasant surprises for Mux, who showed a decided taste for farming. If Matthew had to do some important work where Mux was in his way, he al-