"As I am neither Austrian nor Prussian, but happen to be a Frenchman, you will probably find me fighting for France."
"So long as you do not fight for these Prussian beggars I am quite satisfied. If you will fight against them, however—donnerwetter—but I have something to say."
"Well? at is it?"
"I offer you the free use of my carriage to fight from."
"Thanks! my friend, 'tis an offer not to be despised. I always thought that if I had to fight, I should like to make the campaign in a carriage."
"Well, then, here is the very thing you want. I can't tell you how old my horse is, he wasn't young when I bought him ten years ago, but I know if I took him to a Thirty Years' War he would see me through it. As for the carriage, you can see it is as good as new. Those shafts were put on only three years ago, and last year it had new wheels and a new axle, and it is only six months since I provided it with a new body."
"You remind me of an anecdote we have in France," replied the other. "It is that of Simple Simon's knife, which had first a new blade and then a new handle, but was still the same knife."
"Ah, sir," said Lenhart, with the air of a philosopher, "every country has its Simple Simon's knife."
"And also its simpletons, my good friend."
"Well, if you put new barrels on your gun you might give me the old ones. Here comes your dog with the hare," lifting it by the ears. "You can join the other, you fool," he said. "See what comes of too much vanity! Ah, sir! don't fight against the Prussians if you don't want to, but, good heaven, don't fight for them!"