The Two Exceptions
A quick, witty answer always won the heart of Frederick William I. Once, on horseback, he turned a street corner, and found himself so close to a young man that his horse’s nose touched the latter’s breast.
“Who are you?” he asked harshly.
“A Candidatus Theologiæ, your Majesty.”
“Where from?”
“From Berlin.”
“Pshaw, the Berliners don’t amount to anything.”
“The majority certainly do not, your Majesty, but there are exceptions. I know of two.”
“Who are they?”
“Your Majesty and—myself.”
This was a man after the King’s own heart, unafraid, quick-witted. It was not long before he had a good parish.