"For a single halfpenny!" repeated the boy, much surprised. "Their feathers alone are worth more."
"I will make you a present of them," rejoined Butter, "if you will be at the trouble of plucking them off."
"Ah!" said Christlieb, "if they were alive, I would buy two chaffinches."
"I have a word to say to that," began Kummas; "where will you find meat for them?"
Christlieb made no answer; and Butter, changing the subject, said, "Neighbour, it is pretty cold in this room of yours; what will it be when the new year comes with its twenty degrees colder?"
"What!" exclaimed Kummas; "do you say it is cold here? It is an utter impossibility; for this morning I put into the stove sixteen dollars worth of wood!"
"Don't tell me such nonsense! who would believe that?"
"Well, then, look in and convince yourself," replied Kummas. "My violincello is burning there, and I can show you by writing that it cost me sixteen dollars."
"So, so, ah! I understand," continued Butter, laughing. "But what a dreadful spendthrift you are! No millionaire, no, not even a king, burns such precious wood."
"Therefore I can imagine myself somebody!" retorted Kummas, laughing heartily.