"Do you know to whom it was you spoke?" he asked.
"No, I don't."
"Well, it was the Elector of Hesse himself."
"Thunder and lightning!" exclaimed the old man, "how glad I am I answered him civilly!"
At the play one of these honest people leaned against the man sitting in front of him; the latter moved away:
"Am I annoying you?" demanded the aggressor, "because if it were you who annoyed me, I should give you a punch you would remember the rest of your life!"
Since 1815 Frankfort has been garrisoned by two detachments of fifteen hundred to two thousand each, one Austrian, the other Prussian; the former were much beloved; the latter equally, or even more, hated. A Prussian officer was taking some friends to see the curiosities of Frankfort. They arrived at the Dôme. There, among other votive offerings, representations of hearts, hands, or feet, the sacristan exhibited a mouse, made of silver.
"What was that for?" some one asked.
"Through the divine wrath," answered the sacristan, "a whole quarter of Frankfort once found itself eaten up by swarms of mice. In vain they fetched all the cats of the other quarters, all the terriers, bulldogs, every sort of animal that can kill a mouse; the plague increased. At last a devout lady thought of having a silver mouse made and dedicated to the Virgin as a votive gift. At the end of a week not a mouse was to be seen!"
And as the listeners were somewhat astonished when they heard this legend: