THE OESTER BERG. 303 



"The chamois was good, was it?" 



"A capital one, who shot it?" 

 tt j 



" No, no ! that I don't believe." 



" Now for your unbelief, Christina, you must give 

 me an apple to take with me ; for I am going up the 

 Oester Berg, and dry bread makes a rather insipid 

 meal. So now for the punishment : come along to 

 the storeroom and put some of your best into my 

 rucksack, for part with your rosy apples you must." 



What a storeroom that was ! well worthy of be- 

 longing to the richest man in the village, and a post- 

 master and landlord withal. It was a large stone- 

 paved room, light and cheerful and cool; and round 

 the walls were bright copper moulds, for making jellies 

 and cakes ; and a store of spoons, and plates, and jolly- 

 looking tankards, with huge flagons beside them, that 

 had many a time descended into the earth, and re- 

 turned thence foaming and sparkling and bright with 

 the rich treasures laid up there. And there were 

 mighty stone bottles standing on the dresser, in which 

 it was evident some rebellious spirit was enthralled, 

 for to make egress quite impossible the corks were 

 bound firmly down ; and mountains of butter on fair 

 white boards, and eggs in abundance; and binns 

 broad and deep, filled with coarse meal, and finer, 

 and the very finest flour. Loaves of freshly-baked 

 brown bread were piled on tne shelves, each a good 

 five-pounder; and tongues shrivelled and smoked, 

 w r ith fat sides of bacon, hung from a row of hooks ; 



