Landolin by Berthold Auerbach

The mother slept in her chamber. Thoma sat at the table in the living-room before a large, handsomely-bound book, filled with beautiful pictures. It was an illustrated history of the last war, which Anton had given her. Many book-marks lay between the leaves, at the places where the battles in which Anton had taken part were described. There were many soldiers in the pictures, but Anton's face was not distinguishable. She had heard that he was not at the celebration to-day. It was on her account. What could she do for him? There seemed to be nothing that she could do. Thoma had intended to read, but she could not bring herself to it; and to-day it horrified her to see in the pictures the men murdering each other, and shell tearing them to pieces.

For a long time she stared before her into the empty air. She was weary after the harvest work. Her head sank forward on the open book, and she fell asleep.