Now it reached a little picture in a simple black frame

Now it reached a little picture in a simple black frame. "Elisabeth!" said the old man softly; and as he uttered the word, time had changed: he was young again.
The Children
Before very long the dainty form of a little maiden advanced toward him. Her name was Elisabeth, and she might have been five years old. He himself was twice that age. Round her neck she wore a red silk kerchief which was very becoming to her brown eyes.
"Reinhard!" she cried, "we have a holiday, a holiday! No school the whole day and none to-morrow either!"
Reinhard was carrying his slate under his arm, but he flung it behind the front door, and then both the children ran through the house into the garden and through the garden gate out into the meadow. The unexpected holiday came to them at a most happily opportune moment.
It was in the meadow that Reinhard, with Elisabeth's help, had built a house out of sods of grass. They meant to live in it during the summer evenings; but it still wanted a bench. He set to work at once; nails, hammer, and the necessary boards were already to hand.
While he was thus engaged, Elisabeth went along the dyke, gathering the ring-shaped seeds of the wild mallow in her apron, with the object of making herself chains and necklaces out of them; so that when Reinhard had at last finished his bench in spite of many a crookedly hammered nail, and came out into the sunlight again, she was already wandering far away at the other end of the meadow,fake montblanc pens.
"Elisabeth!" he called, "Elisabeth!" and then she came, her hair streaming behind her.
"Come here," he said; "our house is finished now. Why, you have got quite hot! Come in, and let us sit on the new bench. I will tell you a story."
So they both went in and sat down on the new bench. Elisabeth took the little seed-rings out of her apron and strung them on long threads. Reinhard began his tale: "There were once upon a time three spinning- women..." (Footnote: The beginning of one of the best known of Grimm's fairy tales.)
"Oh!" said Elisabeth, "I know that off by heart; you really must not always tell me the same story."
Accordingly Reinhard had to give up the story of the three spinning- women and tell instead the story of the poor man who was cast into the den of lions,replica louis vuitton handbags.
"It was now night," he said, "black night, you know,replica gucci wallets, and the lions were asleep. But every now and then they would yawn in their sleep and shoot out their red tongues. And then the man would shudder and think it was morning. All at once a bright light fell all about him, and when he looked up an angel was standing before him. The angel beckoned to him with his hand and then went straight into the rocks."
Elisabeth had been listening attentively. "An angel?" she said. "Had he wings then?"
"It is only a story," answered Reinhard; "there are no angels, you know."
"Oh, fie! Reinhard!" she said, staring him straight in the face.
He looked at her with a frown, and she asked him hesitatingly: "Well, why do they always say there are? mother, and aunt, and at school as well?"
"I don't know," he answered,Moncler outlet online store.