There once lived four brothers - hearty, lusty lads - who were called to War. Each boy kissed his sweetheart and his old ma goodbye.


"We will be home for the mid-winter moon," promised the youngest. "Noble folk don't make War in the snow."

Lastly, the four fellows took leave of their masters, for each prenticed at a trade:
the eldest, to a blacksmith;
the second, a baker;
the third, a miller;
and the youngest, a salt-maker.

Jean-François_Millet_(II)_-_Spring_-_WGA15693 copy.jpgThe brothers set off on the road to where soldiers gathered ...