means, seek out some other sprightly young huntsman, who can succeed me in my office, and then we will both be permitted to rest ourselves quietly, in our old age, at our own fireside;—let her have whom she will, only my son-in-law must be a hunter.”
The old dame would fain have lent in another good word for her favourite; but the forester—who knew too well the seducing effects of woman’s eloquence—was resolved to avoid farther parley; and taking down his rifle from the wall walked out into the forest.
Scarcely had the old man turned the corner of the house, when Kate, a blooming fair-haired maiden opened the door. “Have you succeeded, mother? Do say yes!” exclaimed the girl, as she sprang into the room, and flung herself into her mother’s arms.
“Alas, Katherine, you have much to fear,” replied the old woman. “Your father is a good man, a good-hearted man, but he will give you to no other than a hunter; that is his resolution, and I know that he will abide by it.”
Katherine wept bitterly, and said she would die sooner than lose her William. The mother soothed and scolded her daughter by turns, and at last wept along with her. She promised to make one more attempt to move her father; but while the promise was yet upon her lips, a tap was heard at the door, and in stepped William.
“Ah, William,” exclaimed Katherine with streaming eyes, “we must part! Me thou mayest never have; nor I thee. My father is determined to give me to Robert, because he is a hunter; and my mother cannot move him. But though we should be torn from each other, none other shall ever possess my love. I will remain faithful to thee unto the grave!”
The mother here interposed, and explained to William that her husband’s objections to receiving him as a son-in-law were merely on account of his supposed inability to succeed him in the office of forester.
“Is that all!” exclaimed William joyfully, and pressed his
