prayer and is good,” said the man, “he can, and Lippus and Jost;[1] and they shall get whistles and drums, and all sorts of musical instruments, and dance, and shoot with little cross-bows.”
And he showed me a lovely lawn, all ready for dancing, where whistles, flutes, etc., hung. But it was early, and the children not having breakfasted, I could not wait for the dancing, so I said to the man, “Dear sir, I must hurry away and write all this to my dear little son Hans, and tell him to pray and be good, that he may come into this garden; but he has an Aunt Lene,[2] whom he must bring also.” “That he can,” said the man; “write him to do so.” Therefore, dear little sonny, learn your lessons and pray, and tell Lippus and Jost to do so too, and then you will all get into the garden together. I commend you to God, and give Aunt Lene a kiss from me. Thy dear father, MARTIN LUTHER .
CCXXIII
TO PETER WELLER June 19, 1530.
As the messenger has delayed his departure for an hour, I shall greet you by letter, although we have no reliable news of the Augsburg proceedings.
First of all, accept my best thanks for you and your brother staying in my country house to protect my family, who are delighted to have such protection.
I only hope I may some day be able to repay the service. For myself I am pretty well, although I suffered from — not a buzzing, but a roll of thunder in my head, and cannot think whence it came.
Our heroes at the Diet are running about helter-skelter, or rather driving about in carriages, steering through the air with their rudders. They enter the arena of conflict early, then give us a truce during the day, and with the sound of the trombone proclaim their victory in our ears,
