Seed-time and Harvest: A Novel

by Fritz Reuter

CHAPTER XXVI.

Young Jochen sat in his chimney-corner smoking. Young Bauschan lay under his chair, but with his head far enough out to look at young Jochen. Young Jochen looked at him, but said nothing, and Bauschan said nothing.

It was very quiet and peaceful, in the Rexow house, on this December afternoon; there was only one thing which rattled and creaked, that was Frau Nüssler's arm-chair, in which she sat by the window; and every time that she took up a stitch, it made a note of it; for which it should not be blamed, for she squeezed it without mercy, since she had become, with time, what one calls a stout woman. But, to-day, the old chair creaked more than usual, for Frau Nüssler had been knitting, in deep thought, and her thoughts became more and more earnest, and oppressed her soul, and the chair and its creaking became louder and louder. "Dear heart!" said she, laying her knitting in her lap, "why must it be so, in this world, that one's misfortune should be another's happiness! Jochen, do you know what I have just thought of?"

"No," said young Jochen, and looked at Bauschan; Bauschan didn't know, either.

"Jochen, what would you think, if Gottlieb should offer himself for the Gurlitz parish? Gottlieb is but a farthing candle, compared with our old Herr Pastor; but somebody must get the parish, why not he as well as another?"

Jochen said nothing.

"If Pomuchelskopp is against him, and our people and the Warnitzers in his favor, it will depend merely on the Pumpelhagen Herr. What do you say, Jochen?"

"Yes," said Jochen, "it is all as true as leather;" and, because the matter interested him uncommonly, he spoke further, and said, "what shall we do about it?"

"Ah," said Frau Nüssler, "there is no use in talking to you. I wish Bräsig were only here, he could give us advice," and she resumed her knitting.

"Well," she exclaimed, half an hour later, "speak of the wolf, and he is not far off; there comes Bräsig, driving up the yard. And who has he with him? Rudolph,--now just think of it, Rudolph! Why should Rudolph come to-day? Jochen, now do me a single favor,--the old fellow is doing so nicely,--don't go and distress him with your foolish chatter!" With that she ran to the door, to receive her guests.

But she had delayed too long over her preface, for, as she came out, Mining lay in Rudolph's arms.

"Preserve us!" cried Frau Nüssler, "softly, Mining!" and she led Rudolph into the living-room.

"Well," said Jochen, "Bräsig, sit down a little! Rudolph, sit down, too!"

But that was not so easily done. Rudolph had too much to arrange with Mining and Lining, to be in haste to sit down, and Bräsig's head was going round like clock-work, and he trotted up and down the room, as if his legs were the pendulums, to keep the machinery running.

"Young Jochen," said he, "have you heard the news? They haven't caught him."

"Whom," asked Jochen.

"Good gracious, Jochen," said Frau Nüssler, "let Bräsig tell. You are always interrupting people so; let him speak! Bräsig, whom haven't they caught?"

"Regel," said Bräsig; "they tracked him to Wismar, but there they found themselves too late, since he had gone off a week before, on a Swedish oakum ship, and is up in the Baltic sea."

"What a trouble this is for my brother Karl!" sighed Frau Nüssler.

"Frau Nüssler, you are right there; Karl is hardly to be recognized, for he has completely insulated himself, and is surrounded with gloomy thoughts. The business troubles him dreadfully, not on his own account,--no! only on his young Herr's account, for you shall see, the young man must, sooner or later, declare himself insolvent."

"That would kill Karl!" cried Frau Nüssler.

"How can you help it?" said Bräsig. "The young nobleman is ruining himself with his eyes open; he is beginning now the higher style of horse-breeding. For, as I learned from old Prebberow, he has become intimate with Lichtwark, and has bought an old thorough-bred horse, which has got spavin, and swelled sinews, and in short, the whole band in his legs, and he has bought a thorough-bred mare, and he is going to buy Triddelsitz's old, deaf granny, and establish a complete horse-hospital. He has got the little mule too, and I am glad of that, for it is the only sensible creature in the whole company."

"Well, never mind him, Bräsig, he must run his risk," said Frau Nüssler; "but Jochen and I were just talking about the young Herr--Mining, you can take Rudolph out a little while! And Lining, you can go with them!"--and when they were gone she said, "Bräsig, it is about the Gurlitz living. If Gottlieb could only get it!"

"Frau Nüssler," said Bräsig, bringing his pendulums to a stop, and standing before Frau Nüssler, as if the clock had struck, "what you have said is an idea, and nobody in the world is so quick at conceiving ideas as the women folks. Where did you get this idea?"

"Entirely by myself," said Frau Nüssler, "for Jochen does not agree with me, as he used to; he is always contradicting."

"Jochen, keep perfectly quiet!" said Bräsig. "You are wrong, for this opinion of your dear wife is a reasonable one. I will answer for Warnitz; the people will choose my candidate, even if the gracious count and countess should oppose; you for Rexow, young Jochen; Pomuchelskopp won't do it, out of spite; but no matter, it depends on Pumpelhagen. Who shall talk to the young nobleman about it? Habermann? He stands on his apropos with him, just at present. I? Worse, if anything, for he has insulted me. Young Jochen himself? I wouldn't trust young Jochen, he has got into the way of talking too much lately. Gottlieb? A good fellow, but a sheep's-head. Then who? Rudolph! An infernal scoundrel, as Hilgendorf has just written me. Rudolph must go, and you, Frau Nüssler, must go with him, on account of the family connection, that the young fellow may leguminiren."

"Good heavens!" cried Frau Nüssler, "shall I go to see the young Herr!"

"No," said Zachary Bräsig, "you go to the young Frau, and Rudolph to the young Herr. Where is Rudolph? Rudolph must come in immediately."

Rudolph was quite ready to undertake the errand for his cousin Gottlieb, and it was settled that, the next day, he should drive with his aunt to Pumpelhagen.

It so happened; but when the deputation drove up to the manor house, Herr von Rambow was not at home, he had gone out riding; so they were announced to the gracious lady, and met with a very friendly reception.

"Gracious lady," said Frau Nüssler, going up to the young Frau, in her truehearted way, without many compliments, "you will not take it unkindly, if I speak Platt-Deutsch; I know a little High German; but it is almost nothing. We are old-fashioned people, and I always say a bright tin plate pleases me better than a silver one which is tarnished."

Frida herself took off the good Frau's wrappings, and pressed her to sit down by her on the sofa; she motioned Rudolph to a chair, and would have seated herself again, but she was held back by Frau Nüssler, who said to her, quite confidentially:

"You see, gracious lady, this is a nephew of mine, who is going to be my son-in-law; he is a son of Kurz the merchant, in Rahnstadt, with whom you have traded."

Rudolph bowed, as was his place, and the young Frau, with her bright ways, soon made an end of the introduction, and got Frau Nüssler seated on the sofa.

"Yes," said the stout lady, "he has studied too, but he didn't go very far; but now that he has become a farmer, he is doing finely, as Hilgendorf has written to Bräsig."

That was all very fine for Rudolph; but it annoyed him to be talked about, so he interrupted Frau Nüssler.

"But, dear aunt, you don't want to tell about me, you want to tell about Gottlieb."

"Yes, gracious lady, that is properly my errand; you see, I have still another, who is also to be my son-in-law, also a nephew, Rector Baldrian's son, in Rahnstadt, who has studied regularly, and learned everything that he ought, and can be a pastor any day. Now our good old Herr Pastor has gone to heaven,--ah gracious lady, what a man he was!--and you cannot blame me, if I have the wish to keep my Lining in the neighbourhood, and that Gottlieb should get the parish."

"No, dear Frau Nüssler," said Frida, "I do not blame you, and if it depended on me, your future son-in-law should, by all means, have the presentation, on our side; I have heard so much good of you and your daughters."

"Have you really?" asked Frau Nüssler, warmed to the heart. "Yes, they are dear, good little girls!" she exclaimed.

At this moment, footsteps were heard outside, and Herr von Rambow, who had returned from his ride, came in. The young wife undertook the introductions, and Axel looked uncommonly grave, at the names. Rudolph was not disconcerted, however; he had a fine trump to play, which he did not mean to stake for nothing; he went up to the Herr, and said:

"Herr von Rambow, may I be allowed a few words with you in private?"

Axel went with him into the next room.

"Herr von Rambow," said Rudolph, "the week before last, you lost two thousand thalers in gold,--as you have said, all in Danish double louis-d'ors; the day-laborer made his escape, and it seems that he will not be easily retaken; but they are on the track of the money."

"What?" cried Axel. "How do you know that?"

"Since yesterday afternoon, I know that the trial-justice, the burgomeister, at Rahnstadt, has obtained a very clear indication in this direction. I was with my father, in his shop, when a woman came in, a weaver's wife, who is suing for a divorce from her husband, and wanted change for a Danish double louis-d'or. I know the woman, she is miserably poor, and the burgomeister knows also, from the divorce suit, that she has nothing, nothing at all. My father and I gave information of this occurrence, and in the examination it came out that, besides the gold pieces alluded to, she had other money, of which she could give no account, and it also came out--which is the principal thing--that she had gone on the same road with the messenger, on the same morning."

"How is it possible!" cried Axel; "then didn't the fellow steal the money himself?"

"It seems," said Rudolph, "as if it had been stolen from him. Our prudent old burgomeister has had the woman arrested, on other minor charges of theft, and has forbidden my father and me to mention the matter; to yourself, on the contrary, when he heard that I was coming this way, he expressly allowed me to speak of it. You will certainly hear from him, by letter, very soon."

"Herr Kurz," said Axel, "I am extremely obliged to you, for riding over to give me this information," and he gave the young man his hand. Rudolph laughed a little, and said finally, "If this had been all, I should have come alone, but you have noticed my aunt, she has something very much at heart."

"If I can serve you in any way----" said Axel, courteously.

"Come, I will say it right out, a cousin of mine, a theological candidate, proposes himself, through my aunt, for the presentation to the Gurlitz living."

"A cousin? I thought you were a theologue yourself."

"Was! Herr von Rambow, was!" cried Rudolph briskly. "I believe I am not sufficiently highly organized, as they call it now-a-days, and I preferred to become a farmer, and I can tell you," he went on, looking joyously in the young Herr's eyes, "since then, I have been a very happy man."

It must have been a terribly churlish fellow who would not have warmed at contact with such fresh life, and Axel was still, on the whole, a good apple, bruised a little here and there, on the outside, and a little soiled, but inside, yet sound at the core; he exclaimed heartily:

"That is right? That is right! That has been my experience. The life of a Mecklenburg farmer shall yet be worth one's while. Where are you staying, Herr Kurz?"

"With the greatest farmer of the age, with Hilgendorf, at Little Tetzleben," laughed Rudolph.

"A very capable man!" said Axel, "thorough-bred too! that is to say, his horses."

And now they began to talk of Gray Momus, and Herodotus, and Black Overshire, and Hilgendorf received his share of attention, and when Rudolph finally stood up, and offered his hand to Herr von Rambow, it was very kindly pressed, and the Herr said:

"Rely upon it, no other than your cousin shall get the presentation from me."

As they came back into the parlor, Frau Nüssler rose from the sofa, and said to Frida, "He would give his life for you, and for the Herr," and going up to the Herr, she said, "isn't it so? you will do it, Herr von Rambow? It will make me so happy if I can keep my Lining in the neighborhood."

Axel was not disposed to like such a free, off-hand reception, nor was he--though of course without any reasonable ground--disposed to like the Nüssler ways; but the news that there was a possibility of recovering his two thousand thalers, the "thorough-bred" talk with Rudolph, and the really impressive, simple, true-hearted manners of Frau Nüssler, had their effect; he went up to his wife and said:

"Dear Frida, we have a prospect of recovering our two thousand thalers."

"The dear God grant it!" said Frau Nüssler. "Rudolph, have you spoken to the gracious Herr?"

"Yes," replied Axel for him, "the business is settled, he shall have the presentation from me; but--I should like to see him first."

"That is nothing more than right and proper," said Frau Nüssler; "who would buy a cat in a bag? And you shall see, if he is appointed, and preaches, you shall see that he can; but, dear heart! stupid? Well, everybody is stupid about something; I cannot promise for that."

And so they rode off. Gottlieb would have the presentation.

"So," said Bräsig, "the business is well started; now Gottlieb has only his last execution at Pomuchelskopp's and then the election! But he must strike while the iron is hot, and since neither God nor man can help him with Zamel Pomuchelskopp, he must run his risk, and that quickly."

The opinion was reasonable, and Gottlieb got a letter containing a positive command that he should report himself at Rexow, next day, there to receive further instructions.

He arrived, and, when Bräsig had briefly explained the business, he was ready to undertake the dangerous errand. Krischan the coachman drove the Phantom up to the door, Lining brought a foot-sack and cloak and shawls, and tucked her future husband warmly in.

"That is right," said Bräsig; "wrap him up, Lining, so that he may not freeze, and that the catarrh may not run away with his fine voice; it is showery weather to-day."

Suddenly Jochen Nüssler rose up from his chimney-corner, and said, "Mining, my cloak!"

"Well, this is a fine time of day!" said Bräsig.

"Jochen, what do you want?" asked Frau Nüssler.

"Mother," said young Jochen, "you went with Rudolph, I will go with Gottlieb. I will do my share of the business," and he made such a decided motion of the head, and looked at them all with so much expression, that Bräsig cried out, "May you keep the nose on your face! I never saw the like, in all my life."

"Ah, Bräsig," said Frau Nüssler, "he is always like that lately; but lei him go, there is no use talking."

And Jochen rode on with him. Lining, however, went up to her little chamber, and prayed as earnestly for Gottlieb, on his difficult, errand, as if he were really going to execution.

Jochen and Gottlieb rode on through the deep mud, in silence; neither spoke a word, for each had his own thoughts, and the only remark made was when Krischan looked round over his shoulder, and said, "Herr, if one should drive here in the dark, and slip, he might turn over very conveniently." So, about four o'clock in the afternoon, they arrived at Pomuchelskopp's.

Pomuchelskopp lay like a lump of misfortune on his sofa, rubbing his eyes, for Gustaving had startled him out of his afternoon sleep, when he came in for the key of the granary, for it was Saturday, and he wanted to give out the grain.

"Gustaving," he cried spitefully, "you will be an awkward fellow all your days, you are a regular dunce! Blockhead! I will put you on a pole, for all the people to see what a dunce you are!"

"Yes, father----"

"Eh, what? yes, father! How often have I told you not to make such a clattering with the keys, when your father is trying to rest! What carriage is that, driving up the yard?"

"Good gracious!" cried Gustaving, "that is our neighbor Nüssler, and another Herr."

"Blockhead!" exclaimed Pomuchelskopp. "How often have I told you, you should not call everybody neighbor! The day-laborer, Brinkmann, will be my neighbor next, because he lives near my garden; I will not be neighbor to everybody," and with that he went to the door, to see what was going to happen.

Jochen and Gottlieb, meanwhile, had got down from the carriage, and Jochen came up to him: "Good day, neighbor!" Pomuchelskopp made him a very ceremonious bow, such as he had learned to make at the Landtag, and showed them into the parlor. It was very still in the room, if one excepts the little creaking of the chairs; Jochen thought Gottlieb ought to speak, Gottlieb thought Jochen ought to speak, and Pomuchelskopp thought he ought not to speak, lest he should commit himself to something. Finally, however, Gottlieb began:

"Herr Pomuchelskopp, the good, brave Pastor Behrens has gone to God, and if it seems hard, and almost unchristian, that I should offer myself, so soon after his death, as a candidate for the vacant parish, yet I do not believe that I offend against the common feelings of humanity, or the duty of a true Christian; because I am conscious that I take this step only to satisfy the wishes of my own parents, as well as those of my future father and mother-in-law."

That was a fine speech for Gottlieb, and he was right, in every respect; but Pomuchelskopp had the right of it, also, when he made no other reply than to say to Gottlieb, all that might be, but he wished to know with whom he had the honor of speaking. Jochen motioned with his head to Gottlieb that he should tell him frankly, and Gottlieb said that he was the son of Rector Baldrian, and a candidate. Jochen lay back comfortably in his chair, after this announcement, as if the business were settled, and he could smoke his pipe in peace. But since Muchel had offered him no pipe, he had to content himself with going through the motions, with his mouth, puffing away like a Bohemian carp, when it comes up for air.

"Herr Candidate," said Pomuchelskopp, "there have been several of your sort, already, to see me about this business,"--this was a lie, but he knew no other way of managing a parish business, than if he were selling a lot of fat swine to the butcher,--"but I have let them all go, because the matter with me turns upon one point."

"And that was?" asked Gottlieb. "My examina----"

"That is nothing to me," said the Herr Proprietor, "I mean the Pastor's acre. If you will consent to rent the field to me,--of course for a good, a very good price,--then you shall have my vote, otherwise not."

"I think I have heard," said Gottlieb, "that the field is rented to the Herr von Rambow, and I should not like----"

"You may set your mind at rest on that point, Herr von Rambow will not rent the field again," and Pomuchelskopp looked at Gottlieb in an overbearing way, as if he had sold his fat swine at the highest price. Jochen said nothing, but stopped his puffing for a moment, and looked at his candidate son-in-law, as if to ask, "What do you say now?"

Gottlieb was beyond his depth, for he was very ignorant of worldly affairs, but he reflected, and his honorable nature was strongly opposed to entering upon his clerical office by means of such a bargain; he said, therefore, frankly:

"I cannot and will not give such a promise; I do not wish to procure the living by such means. It will be time enough to settle that business when I am in the living."

"So?" asked the Herr Proprietor, grinning at Gottlieb and Jochen, "then, let me tell you, the fox is too wise for you; what comes after, the wolf seizes, and if Herr von Rambow should not change his mind about the field, you can rent it to your Herr father-in-law. Isn't it so, to your Herr father-in-law?"

That was an infamous speech of Pomuchelskopp's. Jochen rent the field! Jochen, who from morning to night bore such a heavy burden, should take this also on his shoulders! He sprang quickly to his feet, and said, "Herr Neighbor, if a man do what he can do, what can he do more; and what can I do about it? If the Pumpelhagen Herr will not have the field, neither will I, I have enough to do."

"Herr Nüssler," said Pomuchelskopp, craftily, "will you give me that in writing, that you will not rent the field?"

"Yes," said Jochen readily, and he sat down again comfortably in his chair, and smoked on. Pomuchelskopp walked up and down the room, and calculated: Herr von Rambow gave up the lease, Jochen would not take it, they were the only ones who could use it, the field was too small to rent as a farm by itself, and he, as the proprietor, need not allow it; it came to this, whether Gottlieb could farm it himself, and Pomuchelskopp examined him with reference to that question, looking at him sideways, as he walked back and forth.

There are all sorts of men in the world, and every one has his peculiar talents, and most people have a good deal of one kind of talent, and other kinds in much smaller proportions; in Gottlieb's case, however, nature seemed to have made a little mistake, she sent him into the world, at least to all appearance, without the slightest trace of agricultural talent. Bräsig had done his utmost to educate Gottlieb a little in these matters, but all in vain; what isn't in a man cannot be brought out of him. Gottlieb could not tell the difference between oats and barley, he did not know which was ox and which was bull, and Bräsig finally gave him up in despair, sighing, "Good heavens, how will the poor fellow ever get through the world!"

Pomuchelskopp, the practical old fellow, detected this failing of Gottlieb's, and was much pleased. "He knows nothing whatever of farming," said he to himself, "that is my man. But I mustn't let him know it!"

"Herr Candidate," said he aloud, "I am pleased with you, you are a very sensible man, and a man of morality--you will not comply with my request--good! neither will I promise to grant yours. But if Herr Nüssler will give me a written statement that he will not rent the Pastor's acre, we need talk no further about the business; for, as I said, I am pleased with you."

So then Jochen signed his name, and the two old dunces rode off, very well satisfied with the transaction. They had got nothing, nothing at all, but a partial promise from the Herr Proprietor, and for that Jochen had been obliged to give his signature; but they were quite contented. Jochen was strongly of the opinion, and remained so till his death, that he had obtained the parish for his son-in-law by his signature.

Jochen and Gottlieb would have been glad to stop a little while at the parsonage; but Krischan the coachman opposed it violently, saying it would never do, it was pitch dark already; so the old Phantom labored along, in the night and the mist, through the deep country roads. To night and mist and a phantom, sleep is appropriate, and whoever finds this four-leaved clover, has the prospect of all sorts of good fortune. Sleep was not long absent. Jochen slept before they were fairly put of Gurlitz, and if it had been daylight, one could have seen, from the way Krischan dragged his whip, that he was beginning to doze, and though Gottlieb did not sleep he was farther off, in his thoughts, than the others; for he was dreaming of his Lining, and his parish, and his election sermon, and his entrance sermon. And when they came to the place where Krischan had made his intelligent remark, as they were going, and as the influences of sleep and darkness combined with its dangers, and Gottlieb had come in his dream to the last election vote, which gave the decision in his favor, the confounded old Phantom began to totter, the fore-wheel was up, high and dry, on the shore, and the hind-wheel, over which Gottlieb sat, fell into a deep hole; so, two steps further, and splash! the whole company lay in the ditch.

I see, from my window, a great many farmers of the Grand Duke's lands getting down from their carriages, at my Frau Neighbor's, the landlady Frau Lurenz, at the "Prince's Arms," but I never in my life saw any one get down so quickly as Jochen; he shot out, in a great curve, over Gottlieb, who was lying beneath him, directly, in the soft mud, and Krischan, old, honest, faithful soul, who could not think of deserting his master in such a crisis, also shot head-foremost from his seat, and lay at his master's side.

"Purr--Oh! Herr, just lie still!" cried the honest old fellow, "the horses will stand!"

"You blockhead!" cried Jochen.

"Praise God!" exclaimed Krischan, getting on his feet, "I am all right. But Herr, just lie perfectly still, I will hold the horses."

"You blockhead!" said Jochen again, scrambling up, while Gottlieb splashed and waded about in the deep mire, "how could you turn us over here?"

"Yes, it is all as true as leather," said Krischan, who, in his long years of service, had caught his master's expressions, "what could a body do, on such a road, in such pitch darkness?"

Since Jochen's words were taken out of his mouth in this way, he didn't know what to say for himself, so he asked, "Gottlieb, are your bones whole?"

"Yes, uncle," said the candidate, "and yours too?"

"Yes," said Jochen, "except my nose, but that seems clean gone out of my face."

The carriage had been righted by this time, and, as they got in again, Krischan turned half round and said:

"Herr, didn't I tell you, this afternoon, this was the place to tip over?"

"Blockhead!" cried Jochen, rubbing his nose, "you were asleep."

"Asleep, Herr, asleep? In such pitch darkness, it is all the same whether one sleeps or wakes; but I said so before. I know the road by heart, and I said so."

And when he afterwards related the story to the other servants, he always said that he had prophesied it, but the Herr would not listen to him; holding up Jochen in the light of a venturesome fellow, who would risk his neck for nothing, against all opposition.

They arrived at the house, and Gottlieb first got down from the carriage. Lining had been sitting all this time on thorns and nettles of impatience, and had listened, through the darkness, for every sound which could bring her certainty of happiness or misfortune. Now she heard something--that must be--no, it was only the wind in the poplars; but now! yes, that is a carriage, it came nearer, it drove up,--she sprang up, she ran to the door, but must stop to press her hand against her throbbing heart,--how it beat, with hope and fear I would Gottlieb bring happiness or misfortune? She opened the door.

"Don't touch me!" cried Gottlieb, but it was too late, Lining, although the oldest, was still very thoughtless, she threw her arms around Gottlieb, and pressed him to her warm heart; but such a chill struck through her, that she felt as if she had taken a frog in her arms, she let him go, exclaiming,--

"Good heavens! what has happened?"

"Overturned," said Gottlieb, "we were, by God's gracious help, overturned; that is to say, Krischan took care of the overturning, but God's gracious help preserved us from serious injury."

"How you look!" cried Bräsig, who came out with a light, just as Jochen entered the door.

"Yes, Bräsig," said Jochen, "it is all as, true as leather; we were tipped over."

"Eh, where?" said Bräsig, "how could a reasonable man, of your years, get tipped over, on his own roads? You were asleep, Jochen!"

"Good gracious, Jochen!" cried Frau Nüssler, "how you look!" and she turned him round, before the light, as if he were a piece of roast veal, on the spit, which she had just finely basted with gravy. "Gracious, Jochen! and your nose----"

"And how does the clerical gentleman look?" inquired Bräsig, holding the light to Gottlieb, in front and rear. "Well!" he said, leaving him, "and now Lining! Why, Lining, you were not tipped over! Frau Nüssler, just look at her! She has half the road from here to Gurlitz upon her clothes!"

Lining blushed deeply, and Mining wiped off the mud from her, and Frau Nüssler did the same for Jochen.

"Gracious, Jochen, how you have muddied yourself! Now, just look at it, the nice new cloak!" Jochen had purchased it for his wedding, some twenty years before. "Well, it can't be helped; I must rip it all out, and to-morrow the whole thing must be washed in the brook."

Orders were issued accordingly, and, after a little while, the two travellers were seated, in dry clothes, at the table, in the living-room. Now, for the first time, Frau Nüssler saw her Jochen's nose, in a clear light.

"Jochen," said she, "how your nose looks!"

"Yes, they said so," replied Jochen.

"Jochen," said Bräsig, "I must be an infamous liar, if I ever said that your nose was particularly handsome; but--may you keep the nose on your face!--what a nose you have on your face!"

"For shame, Bräsig, how can you wish he should keep such a nose as that? Preserve us! it grows bigger and bigger! What can be done for it?"

"Frau Nüssler," said Bräsig, "he must go to the water-cure."

"What?" said Frau Nüssler, "my Jochen go to the water-cure, because he has bumped his nose?"

"You don't understand me," said Bräsig, "he need not go, wholly and entirely, body and bones, to the water-cure; he shall only send his nose there; we must make him cold bandages. Or, Jochen, could you bleed a little from the nose? It would refresh you very much."

But Jochen could not do that, so they prepared the cold bandages, and Jochen sat there, very stately and contented, with his nose wrapped up in wet linen, and, under his nose, his pipe of tobacco.

"But," said Bräsig, "no mortal knows yet how you succeeded with Zamel Pomuchelskopp."

"Yes," said Lining, "how was it, Gottlieb?" So Gottlieb described their interview with the Herr Proprietor, and when he had finished, Jochen said,--

"Yes, it is all settled, I have signed my name."

"Jochen, what have you signed your name for?" asked Bräsig, angrily.

"About the Pastor's acre, that I will not rent it."

"Then you have done something very foolish. Oh, the Jesuit! He wants the Pastor's acre. Nightingale, I hear thee singing, from the little brook wilt drink. That was his great end and aim! But--but"--he sprang up, and stalked about the room, "I will spoil your game. Hear to the end, says Kotelmann. Zamel Pomuchelskopp, we will talk about this! What does the celebrated poet say, about David and Goliath? I consider myself David, and him Goliath. 'He took the sling into his hand, and smote him on the brow, headlong he fell.' And how finely the same celebrated poet says, in his grand concluding words, 'So ever does the boaster fall, and when he thinks he firmly stands, then lies he in the ditch.' And so it shall be with you, Zamel! And, Frau Nüssler, now I have got myself angry, and can eat no supper, so I will say 'Good night,' for I have all sorts of things to think about."

He took his candle and departed, and after supper they all went early to bed, and Lining lay a long time, wakeful through care and anxiety, and listened to the wind in the trees, and the steps in the room beneath, which went back and forth, back and forth, in the same measure; for there Uncle Bräsig lodged, and--as he said next morning--was planning campaign that night.