Page:Story of the bitter wedding (1).pdf/15

 15 been wading through the highest Alpine grass. The fiddler limped close behind him, croaking occasionally through his raven throat, an old spring song, which told of sunshine, and singing birds, and pleasure, and love. At times he drew himself snugly together, and expatiated on the excellencier of the herdsman's coat, which he declared was quite waterproof,---and then he would exhort Berthold to step leisurely, to pay particular attention to the wallet and fiddle, and above all not to overheat himself. The herdsman would have lost all patience and courage a thousand times over in dragging his hundred weight of a load and playing the fool to the crazy fiddler, if he had not been ashamed to throw away the burden which he had volunteered to carry, and forsake the person whose company ha had himself invited. But in his heart he vowed deeply and solemnly never again to lend his coat to a fiddler, nor give away his cheese, nor to carry a fiddle and wallet, and after all be mocked and laughed at by such an odd quiz of a fellow. If, thought he at last, the upshot of all this is a fever in the evening which carries me quickly off- be it so---it remains a bitter wedding! After a few hours rain, the two pedestrians reached the valley, where a swollen and