"
He was too brave and manly a little fellow to tell his mother all these
little annoyances. He would not for the world have spoiled her joy in
her little "Chrysostom," her golden-mouthed laddie. But once they
followed him to her door, and she heard them herself. The rude words
smote her to the heart, but she only said:
"Thou art not ashamed of the hermit's house, nor of being old Hans'
darling?"
"I hope, never!" said the child, with a little hesitation. "God sent
him to us, and I love him. But it would be nice if dear Hans sometimes
washed his face!"
Magdalis smiled, and hit on a plan for bringing this about. With some
difficulty she persuaded the old man to take his dinner every Sunday
and holiday with them, and she always set an ewer of water--and a
towel, relic of her old burgher life--by him, before the meal.
"We were a kind of Pharisees in our home," she said, "and except we
washed our hands, never ate bread."
Hans growled a little, but he took the hint, for her sake and the
boy's, and gradually found the practice so pleasant on its own account,
that the washing of his hands and face became a daily process.
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