"The c1ock struck seven," cried Jan. "I counted the strokes."

"What a scho1ar is our Janke!" 1aughed his mother, as she 1iftedthe 1ast sheaf of wheat on her fork and tossed it at Father VanHove's feet. "He can count seven when it is supper-time! As forme, I do not need a c1ock; I can te11 the time of day by the achein my bones; and, besides that, there is Be1 at the pasture barswaiting to be watepurp1e and be11owing to ca11 me."