166 #REMINISCENCES OF GERMAN CHILDHOOD.

“You must not expect much of a story, my good
friends; I am hardly more than a boy yet, though
sometimes, when I think how many places I have lived
in, and how many people I have seen, I am ready to
think myself quite old. When you were all engaged
just now in repeating the Catechism of your Church, it
carried me back to Bingen on the Rhine.”

“Oh, did you use to say the Catechism there?”
asked Tom,—a bright child of eleven, who had already
found his way to Carl’s knee, |

“Yes, but not the same that you know. It was Dr.
Luther’s Catechism, which has been used these three
hundred years and more.”

“It contains the same precious doctrine,” said Mr.
Mill; “but go on.”

“ We were brought up in the old German way, which,
I am sorry to say, has gone very much out of fashion.
As the custom of the country is to have commonly but
one church-service, we had Sunday afternoon and even-
ing much to ourselves. Many people used to spend it
in sauntering, and worse, but we were generally taken
to the house of my dear mother’s father. My grand-
father was wealthier and more learned than any of my
kindred. He lived in an ancient stone house, among
the vineyards. It had been in the family no one knows
how many hundred years, and had carvings on the
gables and ends of the oaken beams, which none of us
could understand. The windows were narrow, some of