The parish-clerk, who thought that the smith had talked long enough, now led the conversation. "Listen, Claus; you say that he is nothing, that he has no occupation and no money. Do you know what one calls such a gentleman?"
"No, no."
"Well, one calls him a tramp. And do you know what the law says about vagabond tramps?"
"No, no."
"It says that whoever chooses may take such a tramp by the collar and put him in gaol. And that is right, thoroughly right. God, you see, from the beginning, has created men to work, do service, and make themselves useful——"
"Or to be rich," interrupted the innkeeper.
"Hush! Don't interrupt me—to make themselves useful in one way or another. Suppose," continued he, "that there are men who will not work; suppose that there are people who prefer to live at the expense of other people——"
Claus gave him a sharp look and seized his stick. But after taking a drink, the parish-clerk continued: "Then I ask—what is one to do with such people? Can anyone answer me?"
The innkeeper was about to answer, but the parish-clerk motioned him away with his left hand.
"Can anyone answer this? No, I say, for we know in part and prophesy in part. Cur tuus benevolentium." He finished his mug and got up in order not to spoil the effect of his speech by a bad translation of the Latin.