In a small village upon the shore of the German Ocean lived a man whose wife had golden tresses so long and heavy that when they were unbound they covered her like a cloak of sunbeams, and reached to her feet. Her complexion was so fair, and her eyes so beautiful, that her equal was not to be found in all the Fatherland.

At last she fell sick and died, leaving her husband all alone in the world, except one wee baby, who lay sleeping in the cradle. At first the father was heart-broken, and noticed nothing, but after a time all his love turned to the helpless infant, who every day grew more lovely, and at last became as fair as her mother, with the same wealth of golden hair and soft violet eyes, and all the Fatherland, from far and near, was filled with the story of her great beauty.

When she was only a little maid, she would go down to the sea-shore and dance upon the sand, until her light straw hat would drop from her head, and her waving tresses fall about her like a shower of pure gold, and her violet eyes beam with the brightness of stars, while the flush upon her cheeks rivaled the soft, fresh bloom of the peach.

The maiden was called the fair Jung-frau Maleen, as she grew older and every day added to her charms, till half the young men in the country were ready to lay down their life for her; but though her ways were winning, and she had a pleasant smile for all, no one could be familiar with her. In her guileless innocence and beauty she seemed a great way out of their reach, yet she danced with them, talked and laughed with them, till her clear, sweet voice rang out upon the air like the soft notes of a silver bell, but when she turned away, they felt that she had gone from them forever.

Among her lovers was a bashful student named Handsel, who worshiped the Jung-frau Maleen with all the devotion of his great noble heart, but ever at a distance.

He seldom spoke to her.

Even the rustle of her dress as she passed along would set his heart to beating wildly, and the sound of her voice, or one glance of her violet eye would send the hot blood rushing through his veins, dyeing his face and neck a deep crimson. Poor Handsel!

He would say to his heart, "Down, fool, the star of heaven is not for you, look for some lovely flower of earth," but in all the Fatherland he knew there was not another maiden who could satisfy the hunger of his heart.

At all the village festivals he looked on in the distance, and saw others worship at the shrine he dared not approach. "I have nothing worth offering her," he would say, and so he was silent.

He was handsome and manly, and Maleen always looked for him in the crowd, and when she saw him standing far apart with his large dark eyes fixed upon her, she was more content than in his absence. If she had questioned her heart for the reason of this she would have blushed with confusion, for Jung-frau Maleen was not one who would willingly yield her heart unsought.

Maleen always loved the bright, sparkling sea, and often she would go out alone in her little boat, and sail for hours over the blue waters, gathering the pretty sea-weed, and indulging in the day-dreams that German maidens love.

One morning as Handsel was going to the college, he saw the Jung-frau step into her boat and push away from the shore.

He took off his hat and bowed.

She looked at him with that rare, sweet smile that always made him happy for days.

He stopped and looked back after her as the boat glided from the shore, and it seemed as though the sunshine of heaven and its bright reflection upon the waters were united, and was poured out in one rich flood of glory over her golden hair.

Handsel passed on out of the light into the quiet seclusion of the college, and bending over his book did not notice the rising of a thick, black cloud that from a tiny speck soon swept over the whole sky, then burst into wind and rain.

He was living over the heroic ages of the olden time, when the darkness fell across his book, and looking out the window he saw the fierce storm gathering, and heard the wailing winds crying out, Maleen! Maleen! 'Twas but the work of a moment to rush out into the storm and down to the lashed sea-shore and there, he saw a crowd of anxious faces all turned hopelessly out upon the pitiless breakers.

He looked, and there tossed wildly upon the white-capped waves, rose and fell the frail boat, and pale and hopeless sat the pride of the Fatherland, the beautiful Jung-frau Maleen, her matchless golden hair hanging like a damp shroud about her.

There were the hosts of her admirers standing upon the shore wringing their hands and weeping, they saw only death in an attempt to save her, and no one was so mad as to venture out upon the storm-lashed sea.

Even her father stood paralyzed in the hopelessness of his agony.

A strong, manly voice burst in upon the echoes of the storm. "A boat! a boat!" cried Handsel, with a stout-hearted determination in his voice to brave the danger of the breakers, and save the maiden he loved from the angry waters.

A long rope was tied about his body, and in a moment more the life-boat was tossing upon the crested waves, with the brave student at the prow, and the poor helpless Maleen rose up and held out her white arms toward him.

On over the cruel waves, the boats were nearing each other. The agony of suspense that filled the breathless crowd! Great God! if they should meet and crash together!

Down they went into the great sea gulf; Maleen with outstretched arms, and Handsel with his great heart beating like a signal-drum in his bosom, pale but unfaltering.

Down! down they went!

Now up came the billow, but only one boat, and Handsel at the prow was struggling for the shore.

"Oh, Maleen! Maleen!" burst from the father's white lips, then a tress of rich golden hair hanging over the side of the boat met his sight, and he knew that Maleen was in the boat with Handsel.

On it came to the shore, like a charmed boat it escaped the perilous breakers, till at last, no one could tell how, only through God's great mercy, they were saved, and Handsel stood upon the shore with Maleen in his arms.

He gave the maiden to her weeping father, then sank away, and no one thought of him, all were gathered around Maleen, who had fainted.

Soon she opened her violet eyes, and looked around searchingly through the crowd with a strange fear. "Where, where, is Handsel?" she cried, in wild excitement.

Then they all wondered how they could have forgotten him, and looking round they saw him sitting alone, with his head bowed down upon his hands. He did not want their thanks.

'Twas joy enough to him, that he had saved Maleen, and, brave man as he was, he sat there weeping like a child.

Maleen rose up, and walked feebly to him, and kneeling down upon the sand, she put her hand upon his shoulder, and whispered "Handsel!"

Handsel raised his head, and saw what he had never dared hope for, in the soft violet eyes upturned to his.

He answered only, "Maleen!" and, throwing his arms around her, pressed her fair golden-crowned head to his bosom.

Thus it was, that in the presence of God, the storm, and all the people—there by the the wild sea-shore, Handsel was betrothed to the most beautiful maiden in all the dear Fatherland,—The Jung-frau Maleen.