An Old Story of My Farming Days Vol. 3 (of 3). / (Ut Mine Stromtid)

by Fritz Reuter

CHAPTER XI.

Friday, the marriage day of Rudolph and Mina, had come, and the weather was as beautiful as it ought always to be at Whitsuntide. Beside the modest farm house at Rexow Schulz the carpenter had erected a peculiar looking building by Joseph Nüssler's orders. From the outside, the building was not much of an ornament to the place, for it was made of rough planks nailed together, and was very like a common shed. But the inside of this "work of art" was very different. The walls were hung with sky-blue and yellow carpets, that is to say, one half of the room was hung with blue and the other half with yellow, and the reason of there being two colours was that there was not enough of the one to hang so large a hall, to be got in all Rahnstädt, especially when it was wanted in a hurry. There were six great beams put across to support the roof, for Schulz refused to undertake the business unless he was allowed to have the beams; indeed he declared that there ought by rights to be nine supports, the span of the roof was so great. Now the truth was that the building was much too large, and the expense of it too great for such an occasion, but Joseph knew nothing of carpentry, and Mrs. Nüssler was too busy seeing that there was sufficient for her guests to eat and drink to be able to attend to anything else; while Bräsig was far too grateful to Schulz for his support at the Reform club to overlook and curtail his plans, so that Mr. Schulz had his own way in everything, and put up the six beams without anyone saying him nay. To each of these beams Bräsig fastened Chinese lanterns, after which Christian, the coachman, bestrode the beams in buckskin breeches every day for a week while festooning them with garlands of oak leaves; he succeeded in making them look beautiful, but at the expense of his breeches which the rough wood tore to tatters. Joseph seeing this took the price of a new pair out of his red purse, for he wanted everyone to be happy on his daughter Mina's wedding day, and he knew what would please Christian. "Mother," he called to his wife, "Come and look. What else can be done now?"--"It looks very nice," she said, "but, good gracious, we must put candles in those lanterns." She was going away when a voice addressed her from the clouds, that is to say, from the clouds of oak leaves, and at the same moment a man's head showed itself amongst the foliage, and the voice went on solemnly: "That's attended to already, Mrs. Nüssler." When she looked up, she saw the jolly red face of her old lover Bräsig peering down at her through the oak leaves and tallow candles, for he had tied the candles round his neck to keep his hands free for climbing. As soon as he had finished he came down, and the three stood side by side looking at the effect of the decorations. "Really Joseph," said Bräsig, "its just like one of the fairy palaces in the thousand and one nights that I read about last winter in one of the books I got from the lending library." And Joseph answered: "Yes, Bräsig, it all depends upon circumstances. This is only to last for one night though; I'll have it taken down the day after the wedding."--"It's very strong," said the carpenter, "these six beams will last for an age, and any number of fairies can come in here as soon as they're baked and born."

Next day the fairies came, but not quite as Mr. Schulz had imagined them. They all came dressed in crinolines, that is to say in petticoats made of horse hair; not in the bells, barrels, and bee-hives, or clad in the armour of steel hoops that they delight in at the present day. Still they liked their petticoats to stick out even then, and old aunt Klein from Rostock had run a good large hoop of strong oak into her under petticoat, which had knocked against her sister's shins during the whole drive, hurting her so much that she had to hop about on one leg at the marriage. The fairies wore wreaths of real flowers in their hair, not artificial flowers bought from a milliner. Now that was a great pity, for at the end of the evening when the dancers were tired, and their eyes began to close from weariness, and their hair was somewhat dishevelled as if it had been blown about by the wind, the poor tired flowers hung their heavy heads towards the earth seeming to whisper faintly in each other's ears: "I wish it were over; nothing has ever made me long for the sweet calm night so much as this burning glare."--Now-a-days people manage better. However tired they may be, the artificial flowers they wear in their hair are as fresh and neat as at the beginning of the ball. These flowers might say: "Here we are as good as ever. The wire and thread on which we rest have kept us firm and strong, and when we have been put away in a box for a time, we shall be quite ready to begin again."--Some people say: How much prettier girls are now than they used to be! Ah well, as long as they keep their youth, health, and innocence, they may dress in oaken or steel hoops and artificial flowers for all that I care!

Joseph and Mrs. Nüssler had allowed Bräsig to invite anyone he liked, so he had asked a number of nice and pretty girls in Rahnstädt and the neighbourhood to the festivities at Rexow, and also some men. If one or two of these last had rather bowed legs, he thought it did not matter, for the shape of their legs was clearly seen, and so no one need be deluded into dancing with them. Besides the Rahnstädters, Joseph had made Rudolph invite all their mutual relations to the marriage, and they were many in number. There were cousins scattered throughout all Mecklenburg and western Pomerania. There were uncle Lewis, uncle Christian, uncle John, and cousin Bill of whom Joseph said: "He's my second cousin, and is a very amusing fellow, especially when eating and drinking are going on."--Then there were aunt Dina, aunt Stina, aunt Mina, aunt Lina, aunt Rina--and lastly there was aunt Sophie, who as Joseph said: "had been a very choice specimen of womanhood in her youth."--"That must have been a long time ago," remarked Bräsig.--One grand carriage after another drove up to the door at Rexow, and all the different members of the Nüssler clan crowded round Joseph, greeted each other heartily, and asked after each other's well-doing during the last fifteen or twenty years, for they had each lived almost entirely at home for that time, and had heard nothing of their relations, as those of them who could write, had never taken the trouble to do so.--On seeing this Bräsig whispered sarcastically to Mrs. Nüssler: "They're a very faithful and strong race, these Nüsslers! Genial and hearty too, Joseph is of another stamp from the rest in being so very thin and silent." He then went to the "temple of art" as the carpenter called it, and found Schulz sitting in wrapt contemplation of his work over a bottle of Bavarian beer: "Schulz," he said, "you've done your part, and I've done mine, but you'll see that Joseph has spoilt the whole evening with bringing such hosts of his foolish relations here, by the end of the evening they'll take themselves off like a large dish of curds."--"I've got nothing to do with it," said Mr. Schulz, "for I myself am only one of the guests; but if they're what you describe, then all I can say is: Out! out!"--Bräsig now went out into the garden and wandered up and down like a tree frog; I do not use this simile because he was wearing a green coat, for he had on his best brown coat and a yellow waistcoat; no, the reason he was like a tree frog was that he prophesied bad weather at night. Suddenly he looked over the garden hedge and saw Joseph's own "phantom" coming towards the house, driven by a labourer instead of by Christian. On closer inspection he perceived two women seated in the carriage, and on closer inspection still, he discovered that it was his own sister, Mrs. Korthals, widow of a dairy farmer, and her only daughter. They lived in a distant village in western Pomerania and were in very straitened circumstances.--"God bless me!" he exclaimed. "My sister! And that must be her daughter Lotta. This is her doing!" he cried as he rushed through the kitchen and out into the hall where he met Mrs. Nüssler, and said to her: "This is your doing, I know. Oh, you are ....."--At this moment the two women came into the entrance hall in very very simple dress, but they were both beautiful, most beautiful! The elder with tears of joy and gratitude rolling down her kind, honest old face; and the younger with her bright unaffected manner, her large blue eyes and golden hair. The latter came forward at once and asked: "Where is my dear good uncle Zachariah?" she had only seen him once long ago when she was a little child.--"Here, here!" he cried, drawing his sister and niece forward to where Mrs. Nüssler was standing, and adding: "There she is. Thank her for this."--When the two women had told Mrs. Nüssler how happy she had made them by bringing them to Rexow, they looked round for Bräsig, but he was gone. He had forced his way through the heavy sack-like Nüsslers like a miller who had set his mill properly to work, and then had taken refuge in the arbour in the garden, where he employed himself in blowing such loud trumpet blasts on his nose, that Schulz, the carpenter, came out of the temple of art to see whether it was the musicians who were coming.

But they did not appear until later. First of all Kurz and the rector came, each of them accompanied by his good old wife. When they had been in the parlour for some little time and had been introduced to the Nüssler family, uncle Lewis Nüssler, a thick-set, over-bearing sort of man, went up to Kurz, and said: "You may count yourself fortunate in having succeeded in arranging a marriage between your son and one of this family, for we are rich and well-to-do. Look," pointing at uncle Christian, who had just thrown himself on the sofa, "he's worth fifteen thousand pounds."--"I've got nothing to do with this," remarked uncle Christian. Kurz felt very cross, but he restrained all expression of his feelings for the time. Uncle Lewis went on to ask: "Did you ever see so many rich people in one room before?" and Kurz, who had now quite lost his temper, answered: "No, nor so many fools either!" He then turned away, and his wife, who had overheard what he had said came up to him, and whispered: "Pray, take care, Kurz. You're beginning your democratic ways here, and you'd much better go to bed." He would not do that, however, and he was shunned by all the Nüsslers for the rest of the evening.

At last parson Godfrey and Lina arrived. They were received with all honour by their parents because they were to perform the marriage ceremony. Don't let any one misunderstand me--Lina was not to take any actual open part in the ceremony, that would never have done, but she had interfered with Godfrey this once, so far as to read over and alter the address her husband was to make to the newly married couple, and she assured Godfrey that she had a perfect right to do so, as it was more a family matter than a clerical one. She maintained her right as Mina's twin sister, who cared for her so much more than any other sister could do, to know what was going to be said to her, and so Godfrey was obliged to give her her own way.

Hawermann came next, in a glass coach, accompanied by Mrs. Behrens, Louisa and Anna. Mrs. Behrens would consent to go in no other conveyance. She had once been obliged to decline an invitation to a marriage at Rexow, for she happened to be in great sorrow at the time, so she wanted to go to this wedding in greater state than she would otherwise have done. She wanted to show by their manner of going how happy they all were: "For we are all very happy to-day, ar'n't we?" she said pressing, Hawermann's, Louisa's and Anna's hands alternately. Soon after they got to Rexow, Hawermann caught sight of Bräsig's sister, whom he had known long years before, and sitting down beside her, began to talk over old times with her. Every third word they said was, "Zachariah," and Louisa and Anna took Lotta between them and told her about "uncle Bräsig."

A great harvest waggon covered with flowers and garlands of leaves now drove up to the door, driven by Christian the coachman, who on that day acted as postillion. Christian had on his new buckskin breeches, his whip had a knot of red and blue ribbons on the handle, and he himself had a wreath of roses round his hat, making it appear as if his old hat were seizing this opportunity of celebrating its golden marriage day. On the first cushion in front of the waggon was David Berger, the town musician who was playing on a clarionette: "Three jolly post boys, drinking at the Dragon" &c. &c.,[^[4]] and behind him were the rest of the band, playing the same air but not in the same time, because sitting on the second, third and fourth cushions they were naturally somewhat behind Mr. David Berger, who was in possession of the first. Besides that Mr. Berger himself got wrong when he turned his head quickly, or when Christian wanted to hasten the horses by using his whip, for at such times he always felt something tug his back hair; and no wonder; one of the members of his band had tied the lash of Christian's whip to his hair, so that whenever the coachman twitched the whip, or when he himself moved, his hair got a good pull.

Behind this waggon, came another as large, filled with girls dressed in white, with wreaths of roses and pinks, which peeped shyly out from amongst their thick curls, as much as to show how ashamed they were of themselves for appearing to show themselves in rivalry beside the blooming faces of the young girls. These were the little fairies. And amongst the fairies sat the post-master in his new uniform, which was the only one that Rahnstädt had to boast of, and to the honour of wearing which he had only lately attained. There he sat like a chaffinch in his bright new plumage, singing his merriest songs amid a garden of flowers. This waggon was followed by a third, full of partners for the fairies, chosen from amongst the best dancers in Rahnstädt. Foremost amongst these was Kurz's assistant, Mr. Süssmann, who was amusing himself by dancing along by the side of the waggon followed by the rector's youngest pupil, a schoolboy, who footed it lightly and airily behind him.

The guests all looked supremely happy, but Mrs. Nüssler felt not a little uncomfortable, for she did not know any of the new arrivals, Bräsig has chosen them more because they could dance well, than for any other reason. She called Bräsig, but before he could come to her rescue, Christian, the coachman, had smoothed away all difficulties and had made himself master of ceremonies. He opened the kitchen door and the dining-room door, and invited all whom he had brought with him from Rahnstädt to enter: "Go in, go in," he said, "sit down quietly, and rest a bit, the other man will soon come." His advice was good, for one of the groom's men had not yet arrived, and so the marriage could not take place at once. It was Fred Triddelfitz for whom they were waiting; he had been induced by Rudolph's entreaties to take off the ban from the Nüssler's house, and to undertake the office of groom's man.

At last he came riding into the court, and then dismounting, came into the room amongst the other guests with such a stately air, bowing gracefully to the right and left as he entered, that the stupid little schoolboy whispered to Mr. Süssmann, next whom he happened to be standing: "What a pity it is that it's all settled, that fellow would have done capitally." Whereupon Mr. Süssmann looked at the boy compassionately, and then turning to Bräsig who was standing on his other side asked: "Do you know, sir, that they've chosen me to be leader of the dance at our fraternity ball, which is to be the day after to-morrow?" Bräsig was on the point of telling him that he would be a fool if he accepted the position, for Kurz would discharge him at once if he did, but at that very moment the bride and bridegroom came in.

Rudolph was a very handsome bridegroom. His usually merry smile had given place to an expression of serious gravity, and you could see in his brown eyes a firm determination to fight his wife's battles gallantly as became a good husband. Yes, he was a handsome bridegroom, and when does a man ever look better than when he enters the battle of life full of courage and hope. Who could blame his mother for going up to him and kissing him, stroking his brown curls, and secretly pulling his cuffs a little further down over his hands, that they might be better seen?

And Mina! Mina looked for all the world like a rosy apple lying on a silver plate surrounded by its green leaves as she stood there in her white satin gown and myrtle wreath. Outwardly she was calm and still, but inwardly her heart beat faster than usual, and was filled with hope and deep happiness at the thought that before Godfrey gave his address, she and Rudolph would have been married. Mrs. Nüssler wept silently and whispered to Bräsig: "I can't help it, for she is my last, my youngest." Bräsig looked at her affectionately, and said: "Courage Mrs. Nüssler, it'll soon be over." Then going to Louisa Hawermann, he made her a bow, and said: "If you are ready, Miss Hawermann, we had better take our places." On all other occasions he called her "Louie," but he was groomsman to-day and must address the bridesmaid with whom he had to stand more distantly than the girl he had known from her babyhood. Fred Triddelfitz and Anna made the other groomsman and bridesmaid. Then Kurz and the rector placed themselves one on each side of Rudolph, and young Joseph was pushed and shoved with great difficulty up to Mina, while Hawermann had already taken his place at her other side. When this was done the procession moved off to Schulz's temple of art, where they found Godfrey standing behind a white and green altar ready to begin Lina's address.

I know that people have begun to think that a marriage in a house is hardly a marriage at all, and that a church is the proper place for such things. I have nothing to say against these notions, because I myself was married in church even then; my wife being a clergyman's daughter, nothing else would have been suitable; but in one respect at least the marriage ceremony was better then, than it is now. We had nothing in our service that could make anyone feel uncomfortable. I think that it is unnecessary to read such passages as I allude to simply because they are in the Bible. If that argument were to hold good, the parsons might just as well read the Song of Solomon, for it is also in the Bible. I believe that if Christ were to come into the world again. He would have mercy on innocent children and would drive many things that are now tolerated, out of His temple. If such teaching would be most pernicious from the lips of a mother or even from those of a saintly priest, what can it be when it proceeds from a young man who has just preached his first sermon, and entered on the duties of the living to which he has been appointed, immediately after passing from the gay life of a student at one of the great universities.

Well, as I said before, the ecclesiastical court had not then appointed a certain form of address to be used at weddings, so that the old fashion still prevailed, and young people were married in the same way as their parents had been before them. Christian Schult says that the new mode had come in even then, but certainly Godfrey did not know of it, and even if he had, Lina would never have allowed him to use it. Lina was a married woman, and she would not have consented to let her husband make a laughing stock of himself in the eyes of the rich, fat, drowsy Nüssler-faction, or in those of the Rahnstädt tradesmen and school-boys. She would not have allowed her twin-sister's wedding-day to be spoilt by the orders of any consistory, although she was the most zealous parson's wife in the world, that is to say, after Mrs. Behrens, who was still 'the nearest' in all such matters.

As soon as the marriage ceremony was concluded, the twins threw themselves into each other's arms, and Rudolph embraced them both at once, while Mrs. Nüssler, who was standing a little apart, looked at them over the edge of her pocket handkerchief, and leant her head on one side, as though she were listening to something above her--perhaps it may have been to an angel's song. Then the fat, rich, drowsy Nüsslers trooped up to offer their congratulations, and young Joseph took up his stand amongst them and bowed and bowed as if he were the principal person concerned, and were being married over again: "Uncle Lewis," he said, "this is my Mina. Cousin Bill, this is our little governess! What is to be done now, aunt Sophie?" After that, the men of the Nüssler clan pressed forward in their bright coloured waistcoats, with heavy gold chains attached to their watches, and after them came the women with regular flower-pot caps, and tears dropping slowly from their eyes, thus making it appear as if the flowers had been too much watered, and so the extra amount of moisture was running out. Then the men and women of Joseph's clan kissed and embraced Rudolph and Mina as if to show them that they were ready to receive them into their rich, fat, drowsy family, thereby making Kurz furious, for they barred his way so effectually that he could not get near his new daughter-in-law, and on this occasion his wife quite agreed with him, for she could not get at her own son. The guests from Rahnstädt forced their way as near the bride and bridegroom as they could, and made their curtsies to them from behind the Nüsslers, for they could do no more. Amongst these Fred Triddelfitz and little Anna were to be seen, Fred, who had been appointed commander of the dancing forces reared his tall slight figure high above the rest, and behind him stood the rector's youngest pupil ready to carry out as well as he could with his short body and black cotton stockings, what Fred succeeded in doing with his long body and black silk stockings. He was Fred's shadow, that is to say, his noon-day shadow, which is always a short one.

Quite apart from these, four people were standing together without making any attempt to join the throng round the bride and bridegroom, for they had enough to do with themselves. These were Hawermann and his daughter, uncle Bräsig and Mrs. Behrens.--Louisa was leaning her head upon her father's shoulder and looking up in his face. She looked as if she had been long ill, and had now for the first time got out of her sick-room into the fresh clear air, and as if the blue sky were telling her to get better, get better; her father's face was so calm and happy that it might easily be likened to the sky, from which sun, moon and stars, rain and dew came to quicken and refresh her heart.--Right in front of these stood Zachariah Bräsig with his arms round little Mrs. Behrens' round waist. His eyebrows were raised as high as they would go, and he blew his nose energetically as he said: "My little Mina! My little god-child! How happy she looks!" and every time one of the fat old Nüsslers gave Mina a kiss, he bent down and kissed Mrs. Behrens, as much as to imply, that he thought this would prevent any contamination of his god-daughter by the foolish old Nüsslers with their wretched worldly notions.--"You see I did it from such and such a motive," is the excuse my servant, Lisette, whom I engaged when I came to live at Eisenach, always makes when she is found fault with about anything, and does not know what else to say. So Bräsig kissed Mrs. Behrens, and she let him do it and thought no harm, but when she saw aunt Sophie, who used to be considered a sort of Venus amongst the Nüsslers, kiss Rudolph two or three times, she was very much shocked, and when Bräsig was about to salute her again, she said: "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Bräsig. What have I to do with you?"--Then Bräsig drew back rather crestfallen, and said: "Don't take it ill of me, Mrs. Behrens, my feelings ran away with me." After that he led Mrs. Behrens to Hawermann, and said: "Now, Charles, you ought to look after this lady. Louisa is my bridesmaid, for I'm a bachelor, and as both you and Mrs. Behrens have been married already, you'll go very well together."

Mina was holding Rudolph's hand, and as soon as she saw her oldest and dearest friends standing aside, unable to speak to her, she tried to force her way through the crowd of closely packed rich, fat, drowsy Nüssler sandbags, and through the wooden palisades formed by the serried ranks of school-boys and shopmen, and so get at her friends, but all in vain. As soon, however, as her husband saw her fruitless efforts, he placed himself in front of her, pushed aside sandbag number one, in the person of rich uncle Lewis, and sandbag number two, in that of the wit, cousin Bill; then seizing the longest post of the palisade, Fred Triddelfitz himself, he gently lifted him out of the way and placed his school-boy shadow behind him, and so having made a breech in the fortifications, he brought his new wife safely beyond the battlements to where she received warm congratulations coming from the heart instead of from flower-pots, brilliant waistcoats and heavy gold watch-chains. After Mrs. Nüssler had embraced and blessed her children, Rudolph passed his hand across his eyes, and then said: "Suppose we all go out into the garden for a little."--Schulz, the carpenter, who was standing near, heard what he said, and backed him up by exclaiming: "Quite right! Out! out! Go out all of you. We're going to lay the tables." And beginning with the Nüsslers, he set to work to clear the room.

When our party--I say our--were walking past the celebrated arbour, Bräsig pointed to the cherry-tree, and said: "You must always keep this tree, Mina, as a memorandum and a sign, for your future was decided through it and through me, and as we are talking of signs, Mina, just bring me one of those blue flowers, look there's a nice one." When Mina had gone to get it, uncle Bräsig asked: "Have you always remembered what I said to you before, when I sent Mina for one of those flowers?"--Rudolph said that he had, and Bräsig after looking at him scrutinizingly from head to foot, replied: "I believe you."--At this moment Mina returned with the flower, and Bräsig taking it from her, said: "Thank you, Mina. Now I'll give you my wedding present," at the same time pulling a thick old black pocket-book out of his brown coat pocket. He turned over a number of old milk and corn accounts without finding what he wanted, but at length in the last division of the pocket-book he discovered a dried flower which he took out, and said: "Look, my dear little god-daughter, this is the flower you gave me on the day of your engagement, and it is the same as this," comparing the two, "now if after long years of married life, Rudolph can give you this second flower, you will have every right to say: 'I am a happy woman.' I'll say no more, no more. And I have nothing more to give, nothing more," so saying he walked away, and our party heard him muttering: "Nothing but this memorandum. Rudolph's memorandum."--When we next saw him, he was walking about with his sister, and her daughter Lotta, and the two women were thanking and blessing him for all the loving help and brotherly kindness he had shown them for many years.

Mrs. Nüssler now came up to us, and said: "Come away, friends, everything is ready. But don't take it ill of me if I say that Joseph's relations must be treated as our principal guests, and must sit next the bride and bridegroom--for I can't hurt Joseph's feelings you know--of course Kurz and his wife must be up there too, for, as you would say, Mrs. Behrens, they are 'the nearest'. And Godfrey and Lina must be amongst them also, for it's Godfrey's right as parson, and Lina's as Mina's twin sister, and Joseph too, because he belongs to his clan. But we, that's you, Mrs. Behrens, Charles, Louisa, and you, Bräsig, will sit at the other end of the table, and I'm sure that we'll enjoy ourselves."--"Aller bon hour!" said Bräsig, "but where's Mr. Süssmann, I must have a little talk with him about our fraternity ball."--"Oh dear! The poor man is sitting in our back room. He and Triddelfitz were trying which could jump best over a heap of thorn branches, when he fell and split part of his clothing, so that Christian had to provide him with an old pair of blue trousers belonging to Joseph. He absolutely refuses to show his face in day light, and is hiding away until the evening, when he hopes that the unsuitableness of his dress will not be noticed."--"And that's the man who thinks he can lead the dances at our ball!" said Bräsig, as he followed the rest of our party into the hall.

The company all sat down to table in the temple of art, and Mrs. Nüssler's neat maid-servants went about in their pointed caps and white aprons--for it was not the custom in those days to hire waiters in shabby black coats, white neckcloths, and white cotton gloves, the thumbs of which somehow always get covered with gravy while the man is bringing in the roast. The fat Nüsslers eat as much as if they were possessed by a party of French commissioners of supply, such as we used to have quartered on us in 1812, and were required to provision an army for the invasion of Russia. As soon as the fricassées and other such dishes were finished, they attacked the puddings gallantly, and after they had done their duty by them, they had roast pigeons and asparagus, at the same time expressing great surprise that the pigeons in Mecklenburg were not as large as geese, and complaining of the asparagus not being as thick as hop-poles. When the roast was brought in, cousin Bill, the wit of the Nüssler clan, rose, struck his glass to enforce silence, shouted, "Hush!" three times, took up his wine glass, and said: "Let us drink to the health of old General Knoosymong (que nous aimons) who used to be a very celebrated personage, and whose fame is still great amongst, &c.," as he said this he looked at the young couple, and winked his left eye at Mina, and his right eye at Rudolph. Then uncle Lewis--don't misunderstand me; it was rich uncle Lewis--stood up, and said: "What a wag you are, William!" and Bräsig whispered to Mrs. Behrens, "I know that you dislike the Reform-club, but I assure you that our wit, the journeyman shoemaker, can make much better jokes than that."--Poor Mrs. Nüssler was sitting on thorns, for she was afraid lest Joseph should now begin to make a speech; but Joseph refrained from doing so; he intended to keep his speech for the benefit of the neighbourhood, and not to throw it away on the world at large, so he only said: "Give Lewis another glass of wine, Bill. Lewis, give Bill another glass of wine."--When the Bowl[^[5]] was brought in, and the champagne, the fat old Nüsslers wishing to be polite said that they had some of the same quality in their own cellars at home, and Freddy Triddelfitz, the shopmen and school-boys drank one glass after another to pass the time. The left wing of the army of wedding guests which was composed of the dancers who had come from Rahnstädt in the waggons now became so excited that the little member of the women's council, told their commander, Fred Triddelfitz, that if he went against the enemy after that fashion he would soon have to beat a retreat, and just as he was making arrangements to prevent the necessity of such a retreat, he, and all present were startled by an unexpected disturbance.--Nay, only think how often an unconscious animal is inspired with a happy thought!--Bolster--Joseph's Bolster--our old friend Bolster, who had been adorned for the occasion by Christian with a green wreath round his neck, and another round his tail, jumped upon the white and green altar which was standing immediately behind the bride and bridegroom, and at which Godfrey and Lina had performed the ceremony. He looked at the newly married couple with his honest old autocratic face, licked Mina with his tongue and slapped Rudolph on the cheek with his tail, and then turning round licked Rudolph and slapped Mina. When he had done this, the old dog sat down on the altar with quiet dignity, and looked round the room with a satisfied air as much as to say that he was pleased with everybody, and intended to remain where he was till the end of the feast.--Suddenly Joseph sprang to his feet, exclaiming: "For shame. Bolster! Down! down!"--Uncle Bräsig jumped up, and cried: "Joseph, how dare you treat your best friend so ill on this solemn occasion!" then turning to Godfrey, he added: "Reverend Sir, let Bolster remain where he is. The dog is showing his love on a Christian altar, and he knows it, although you don't. Bolster is a wise dog. I know it as a fact, for when I was showing my love up in a cherry-tree, he showed his by lying under the bench in the arbour. Reverend Sir, Bolster may be cited as a witness to the marriage, because he was present when they engaged themselves to each other."--Godfrey grew pale with indignation when he heard such horrible sentiments, but he did not succeed in expressing his opinion, for the humming and buzzing around him had now grown deafening, as everyone had seized the opportunity of rising from table and pushing back their chairs, amid shouts of "out! out!" from Schulz, the carpenter. In the confusion that ensued the rector's youngest pupil tripped over a heap of Mrs. Nüssler's best porcelain plates, which were immediately scattered in fragments throughout the room. He stood looking at the work of destruction, and groping in his waistcoat pocket for some treasure the presence of which was unknown to himself as to others; when Mrs. Nüssler passed by and saw the broken plates, he blushed and said that he would gladly pay for the damage he had done, but he didn't happen to have enough money with him. Mrs. Nüssler smiled, patted him kindly on the shoulder, and said: "That's a good joke! But I must punish you," and taking him by the hand she led him to Bräsig's niece, Lotta, saying: "You must dance a great deal to-night to make up for my broken plates."--He paid his debt honourably by dancing his best.

Then the ball began. First of all there was the polonaise--Fred Triddelfitz led, for Mr. Süssmann had not yet made his appearance. And where did he lead the dancers. Through the hall, through the garden, the kitchen, the entrance hall, the parlour, Mrs. Nüssler's bedroom, and back again through part of the garden to the hall, so that Joseph's fat relatives were puffing and blowing for want of breath, and Bräsig called out to ask why they had not gone through the farm-yard when Mr. Triddelfitz seemed so anxious to take them a long round. Even Joseph took part in this dance, and the only difference between him and the other men was that he had two partners instead of one, for he had aunt Sophie on one side and Bolster on the other, and he looked, when seen between aunt Sophie's flower-pot and Bolster's garlands, either like a pearl set in gold, or an ass between two bundles of hay. When the polonaise had come to an end, David Berger played a slow waltz to the tune of: "Du, du liegst mir am Herzen, Du, du liegst mir im Sinn," and in the distance another band was heard playing: "Nuse Katt hett negen Jung'n." Then, when he went on to the lines: "Du, du machst mir viel Schmerzen, Weisst ja wie gut ich dir bin," there came from the distance: "Mina den Kater, smit'n in't water," and so on, for Mrs. Nüssler had arranged that the servants and villagers should dance in the dairy. The musicians there were old Hartloff, who had only one eye, Wichmann, a carpenter, Rührdanz, the weaver, and several others. Hartloff had given each of his followers a large tumbler of beer, at the same time entreating them to do their best, and not to allow themselves to be beaten by these town musicians, who if the truth were known could not hold a candle to them, so they played their best, and Christian the coachman kept them well supplied with beer. Sometime afterwards Rudolph and Mina came into the dairy and danced, Mina with Christian, and Rudolph with the cook. The overseer cheered the bride and bridegroom, and Hartloff fiddled away so vehemently that Rührdanz and his clarionette could not possibly keep up with him, and were at last obliged to give up the attempt. When Rudolph and Mina had left them. Christian and the cook went behind the door and talked. "Well, Dolly," said Christian, "what must be, must be!"--"Why, Christian, whatever's the matter with you?"--"Ah, Dolly, you and I are engaged, and what's right for one, can't be wrong for another; we must go to them, they can't take it ill of us if we do." Then Dolly said: she felt a little shy, but if she went, she would dance with Mr. Bräsig, for she knew him. And Christian answered that he would dance with the mistress. No one thought it in the least strange, when a few minutes later, Christian took his place in the temple of art with Mrs. Nüssler as his partner, while Bräsig danced with Dolly. Such things could be done in those days, and it is a great pity that they cannot be done now--in many places, at least. Joy and sorrow ought both to bring rich and poor together. Why does the master, who on his death-bed wishes to be followed to the grave by his sorrowing dependents, not also desire to share his joy with them.

Mina's wedding day was one of great happiness to all at Rexow, but it would be quite impossible to enter into a detailed account of everything that was done. This at least I can testify that Fred Triddelfitz remained leader of all the dances; and that Anna often blushed when she was his partner, and he generally was able to persuade her to dance with him. Between the dances Anna used to take refuge with Louisa as though she felt more comfortable when under her protection. I know that the little schoolboy missed two dances because he had involved himself in an arithmetical puzzle, as to how much his predecessor got as schoolmaster and whether he was sacristan as well. Whether he was very poor, whether he had taken a lease of the shoemaker's potato plot, which cost so much the square pole, and lastly, whether if he himself attained to such a position, rich uncle Bräsig would help him a little, so that he might marry Lotta, whose beautiful blue eyes and golden hair had captivated him. He cast one or two hasty glances at his new black dress coat for which he had already paid Kurz one third of the price on account. I know that the only unhappy man in the whole company was Mr. Süssmann, and he was only unhappy when he happened to look down and see Joseph's old worn out blue trousers.

Yes, that was a happy day, but everything comes to an end. The little fairies, shopmen, schoolboys, and dancers drove home with David Berger and the dance music. The old people had gone earlier. Then Joseph took all the men of his clan and showed them their rooms, while Mrs. Nüssler did the same for the women. Every married woman was given a comfortable bed, but the unmarried ones, with Aunt Sophie at their head, were put into the large blue room which they had to share with each other.