Explore "The Little Barefoot" by Berthold Auerbach on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Barefoot stood, one Sunday afternoon, at the house door, looking dreamingly into the vague distance, when the grandson of Charcoal Mathew came running down the village street, and nodding to her from a distance, cried, --
"He has come, Barefoot; he has come! "