A Princess tamed.
Translated from the original Wuttenberg dialect in 1961. Sunlight twinkled on the babbling brook. The birds were singing. I rested a while where the road squeezed between the wood and the riverbank taking a break from my weary walk back to my father’s house and blacksmith’s shop in Bad Wuttenberg. Two years service in the army of the Arch Duke Reynard had ended and now I was a free man. I heard horses approach, but I rested my eyes and remained reclined against a wall as they came near. Quite suddenly they stopped right by me, a haughty young woman riding a pure white gelding with two outriders carrying pistols and swords on matching grey stallions. She sat side saddle. I looked up at her patent leather boots and heavily embroidered red cloak and her …