An Old Story of My Farming Days Vol. 3 (of 3). / (Ut Mine Stromtid)

by Fritz Reuter

Next day Bräsig arrived. "Good morning," he said. "Sit still, Joseph. Well, have you got a small rebellion here too?"--"Ah," said Joseph smoking like a chimney, "what's to be done now--Bolster?" He pretended to be speaking to Bolster, for Bräsig had left the room before he had had time to finish his sentence, and was now calling Mrs. Nüssler in the passage.--"Good gracious, Bräsig," she said, drying her hands on her apron, for she had been washing them when she was called away, as she had been busy baking and did not wish to give her old friend a floury hand to shake. "Good gracious, Bräsig, why don't you come to see us in these bad times? How's my brother Charles?"--"'Bonus', as lawyer Rein would say, or 'Bong', as the grey-hound would put it, or 'he's in very good case', as I should say myself. The only pity is that he will go on thinking about the loss of his good name, and of the separation of little Louisa and Frank. These inward sorrows prevent him interesting himself in the doings of the Reform-club, of parliament, and in great political thoughts."--"Thank God!" replied Mrs. Nüssler. "I know my brother Charles too well to think that he'd even mix himself up with such folly."--"Mrs. Nüssler," returned Bräsig drawing himself up and looking his old love full in the face, "you have unintentionally said a great thing, as rector Baldrian said the other day when the potato-ground of the labourers was spoken about; but in these times one must take care what one says--They turned Kurz out the other day--and as I am a member of the Reform-club I can't allow the word 'folly' to be applied to our doings."--"Mercy me!" cried Mrs. Nüssler putting her arms akimbo, "I really believe that you'll want to turn me out of my own kitchen next."--"Did I ever say so?" asked Bräsig. "They've turned out Louis Philippe, and the Bavarian Louis, and Louis Kurz; is your name 'Louis'? No, I came here to see that you were all right. If the revolution should break out here I'll come to your assistance with the Rahnstädt club, and the civic guard--we've all got ourselves pikes as well as muskets: I'll protect you, never fear."--"You shan't come here with your pikes and muskets," cried Mrs. Nüssler, "tell your wretched rabble from me that they'd better provide themselves with an extra set of legs and arms before they venture into my farm-yard, for if they come here they shall lose those they have," so saying Mrs. Nüssler turned round and going into her larder, shut and locked the door.--Those were sad times when the devil sowed the seeds of dispeace between old friends. Bräsig waited as long as Bolster had often done before, expecting the larder door to open every minute, and when it did not, he returned to Joseph in the parlour with his ears hanging like Bolster's under the same circumstances. "Yes," he said to Joseph, "these are dreadful times, and yet there you sit moving neither hand nor foot, although rebellion has broken out in your own house."--"Ah, Bräsig, I know that, it's because of the geese," said young Joseph; "but what can be done? I say, Bräsig, help yourself to a little kümmel," pointing with his foot at the lowest shelf of the wine-cupboard, "you'll find the bottle there."

Bräsig thought a good deal of a little kümmel! He went to the window and looked out at the weather. The wind was driving sharp spring showers over the sky, and these as they passed away were succeeded by bursts of sunshine. In like manner one sad gloomy thought after another came into his head: "What?" he said to himself, "and this is to be the end of it? She thrusts me from her side when I am trying to help her!" Then the sun's rays once more penetrated his heart, but with a clear cold light which did not soften him, and he added with a scornful smile: "Ha! ha! I wish I could see her fighting against the whole of the Rahnstädt civic guard, headed of course by Wimmersdorf, the tailor, and the wise old dyer 'For my part'!"--At this moment Rudolph crossed the yard, and seeing Bräsig at the window, came in, as he wanted to speak to him. "How-d'ye-do, uncle Bräsig."--"How-d'ye-do, Rudolph. How are you getting on? I mean the labourers? Is all quiet?"--"Yes, quite. There has been no difficulty as yet."--"Ah, but you'll see that this affair of the geese ...." interrupted young Joseph.--"Never mind the geese, father," said Rudolph.--"What's all this about the confounded geese?" asked Bräsig.--"Nothing," said Rudolph. "You see I had such a deal of trouble about those geese, they destroyed the edges of the ditches, they eat up our young cabbages and did a lot of damage to the corn, so I called all the labourers together and promised them twelve shillings each at harvest time if they'd give up keeping geese. They agreed readily to my proposal, but my uncle has taken it into his head that the villagers all look upon him as a monster, and that there will be a rebellion about the geese."--"Goodness gracious me!" cried Mrs. Nüssler coming in, "the geese again!" and throwing her apron over her face, she burst into tears.--"Why, mother," exclaimed Rudolph springing to her side, "what's the matter? What has gone wrong?"--"What's to be done now?" asked Joseph rising.--Bräsig would also have spoken if he had not guessed that he knew more of what was passing in Mrs. Nüssler's heart than any of the others, so he turned away to the window and stood there gazing hard at the April weather with his eyebrows raised as high as they would go.--Mrs. Nüssler at last got up, dried her eyes, put aside both Rudolph and Joseph--rather hastily too--went up to Bräsig, and throwing her arms round his neck, exclaimed: "I know that you meant me well, Bräsig, and I won't hack off anyone's arms or legs."--"Oh, Mrs. Nüssler," said Bräsig with a very April face, for he was smiling with tears in his eyes, "you have my full permission to treat Wimmersdorf, the tailor, and the would-be wise old dyer 'For my part' as you like."--"What is the meaning of all this?" asked Rudolph.--"I'll tell you," said Bräsig, freeing himself gently from Mrs. Nüssler's embrace, and taking her by the hand, "and it's this. You've got a real angel for a mother-in-law. Not a so-called angel such as you meet at balls and in the promenade at Rahnstädt, but the grand old kind we read about in the Old Testament; a warlike good angel, who doesn't fear the devil in a good cause, and is worth three of you any day." With that he turned upon Rudolph as though he had done Mrs. Nüssler some great wrong.--"Preserve us!" cried Rudolph. "I've done nothing that I know of," and he looked at Joseph, who looked at Bolster, but neither could help him, so Rudolph added: "I really don't know what ....."--"It isn't necessary," said Bräsig, then turning to Joseph: "and as for you, young Joseph, if you don't look out there'll be a revolution in the house, and all because of your stupidity about the geese. The best thing you can do is to sit there quietly. Now then, Rudolph, come away with me, I want to look over the farm and see what you have learnt from Hilgendorf."

Sitting still was what Joseph liked better than anything else, and going out with Bräsig gave Rudolph the very opportunity he wanted to egg his old friend on to arrange that his marriage should soon take place. So neither of them made any objection to Bräsig's decree.

Fred Triddelfitz came to the farm that afternoon as he was out riding at any rate. He was mounted on a horse with a very extraordinary action, for it walked like a human being with its fore feet, and never thought it incumbent on it to use more than three legs at a time, thus showing that nature sometimes puts herself to unnecessary trouble by creating a superfluous limb, for instance the tail of a Dandie Dinmont, the ears of a pug and the left hind leg of a horse that finds three legs sufficient for its wants. Fred's steed was by no means beautiful, especially when in motion; but he was a very courteous animal and kept on bowing the whole way along the public road. In this respect he suited Fred very well, for the lad had grown to have extremely good manners from his intercourse with Mr. von Rambow. When anyone made game of his horse Fred used to smile and say to himself: "You fools! I've always made by my horses. I was paid in ready money when I exchanged the sorrel-mare for the black, the black for the brown, and then the brown for this horse." The horse bowed itself politely into the farm-yard at Rexow where Fred dismounted politely, went into the house politely, and said: "How-d'ye-do" politely.--"Mother," said young Joseph, "give Mr. Triddelfitz something to drink," for they happened to be at coffee at the time.--"Bless me!" thought Bräsig. "He's called Mr. Triddelfitz now, is he?"--Meanwhile Fred divested himself of his waterproof coat, took something out of his pocket, and sitting down, placed a pistol to the right and left of his coffee cup.--"Sir," cried Bräsig, "the devil take you and your pistols! What makes you put these infernal implements on the coffee table amongst our cups?"--Then Mrs. Nüssler rose quietly, and taking the fire-arms in one hand, lifted the tea kettle with the other and poured hot water down the muzzles of the pistols, saying calmly: "There now, they can't go off."--"Oh, dear!" cried Fred, "that was the last shot we had ....."--"Sir," interrupted Bräsig, "do you think that you're in a robber's cave when you come to see young Joseph?"--"The whole world is a robber's den just now," replied Fred, "Mr. von Rambow proved that clearly in his speech to the labourers yesterday, and so I went to Rahnstädt and bought these two pistols--one of them for him--we are going to defend ourselves to the death."--Mrs. Nüssler looked at Bräsig with a half ashamed smile, and Bräsig burst into a roar of laughter: "And so you and Mr. von Rambow think you'll be able to stop the labourer's mouths with a speech and a pair of pistols!"--"Yes, the squire told the people plainly that he would rule them mildly but strictly, and that they must do as they were desired."--"Ah well, it all depends upon circumstances," interposed Joseph.--"You may be right this time, young Joseph," said Bräsig, "for every man must cut his coat according to his cloth, but Mr. von Rambow is not the man to conduct a case like this properly. He'll be sure to treat impudent pretentions mildly, and timidity with sternness."--"So he has made another speech?" said young Joseph.--"A splendid one," cried Fred enthusiastically. "I don't know how he managed it."--"It doesn't matter," replied Bräsig. "But, tell me, what did the labourers say to the explanation made them?"--"The rabble," answered Fred, who had learnt something besides politeness from his master, "wasn't worth the trouble he took. When I was going about the farm-yard afterwards I heard different groups of labourers talking of 'equality' and of what they called the 'gee hup and gee wo' style of farming."--"It was you they meant, of course," said Bräsig with a grin.--"Yes," said Fred honestly, "but only think what happened. Five of them came to the squire in the afternoon; they were some of those I had always thought the most sensible of the lot. Old Flegel, the carpenter, was the spokesman, and he said he had heard that Mr. Pomuchelskopp had advanced money to all his people, had promised them more potato-land and various other things, but they would say nothing more on that head, for they were by no means so badly off as the Gürlitz villagers, indeed they were quite satisfied with what they had; but they didn't like the way in which they were treated. They were often scolded when they had done nothing wrong, were knocked about when they didn't deserve it, and were hunted from yard to field and back again without knowing what they were expected to do. They thought Mr. von Rambow would do well to get rid of me, for I was not up to the work, and was too young to have the management of so large an estate and so many labourers. There was one other request they wanted to make, and that was, that they entreated the squire to get old bailiff Hawermann back again. Just imagine! What a people!"--"Hm!" said Bräsig with a broad grin. "And what did the squire say to that?"--"Oh, he soon showed them what he thought of them. He said that if he was satisfied with me--here he pointed to me, and I made a polite bow--these gentlemen, the labourers, might be satisfied too. Then an old white-haired fellow, John Egel, came forward--you know him, he's one of the oldest of them all--and said, that they were not 'gentlemen,' no one knew that better than they did, and they had only come to speak to him, their master, out of the goodness of their hearts, and not to exchange sharp words. Mr. von Rambow was master, and could do as he liked."--"What an infernal old rascal," said Bräsig still on the broad grin.--"Ah, but listen. That wasn't nearly all. The thick end of the wedge came last. Towards evening I noticed that one of the labourers after the other went to the stable where the riding horses are kept, and as I knew that Christian Däsel, the groom, doesn't quite like me, I thought some mischief might perhaps be going on, so I went into the stable next to that where the men were, and in which there is a hole that goes through to the other, and then I heard what Christian Däsel was putting the labourers up to."--"That's to say," interrupted Bräsig, "that you listened."--"Well--yes," answered Fred.--"All right then," said Bräsig, "go on."--"I must begin by telling you that Christian Däsel announced that he had made up his mind to marry Sophie Degel with whom he has been 'keeping company' for several years, and the squire won't have a married groom on any account, for he thinks a married man will be more careful over his children than the foals, and I've no doubt he's right in that. But he won't part with Christian because he thinks him a good servant and attentive to the horses--however I can't say that I agree with him there, he isn't as particular as he might be. Now Christian Däsel went on to say that he would be allowed to marry Sophie if it were not for the paddocks, he was certain of that, so he wanted the labourers to demand that the paddocks should be given them for potato-ground."--"Of course you went straight to Mr. von Rambow and repeated what you had heard?" asked Bräsig.--"Naturally," said Fred, "it was necessary that he should know, in order that he might be prepared. At last they came and asked for the paddocks, saying that their wives and children were every bit as good as the squire's mares and foals, and yet the latter were better off than the former. Then Mr. von Rambow sent them away double quick with a flee in their ear. I need not add that Christian Däsel's wages were at once paid up and that he was turned off on the spot."--"And what does Mrs. von Rambow say to it?" asked uncle Bräsig.--"H'm," replied Fred, shrugging his shoulders, "how am I to know? She says nothing. I don't know what's the matter with her. She always used to notice me--courteously, but perhaps rather stiffly--and ever since that stupid mistake of Mary Möller about the farm-book, she has never even looked at me. Mary went long ago, I'm happy to say, for she was really growing very foolish, and Mrs. von Rambow is now her own housekeeper. I must confess that she keeps everything in splendid order, though she takes no notice of me. Caroline Kegel says she only works so hard to prevent herself thinking, that she often writes long letters and then tears them up again, lets her hands fall in her lap and sits still watching the baby sadly. Caroline says that it goes to her heart to see her. Mrs. von Rambow manages the housekeeping very quietly; she never scolds or rushes about; she only desires that a thing should be done, and she's obeyed at once. Caroline Kegel wishes she had a friend to speak to--I'm no longer to be called that--and the squire has no friend either."--"That's enough for me," cried Mrs. Nüssler, starting to her feet, "I'll go and see her tomorrow. And as for you, Joseph, I think you ought to go to that poor misguided young fellow and bring him to hear reason. In times like these neighbours should stand by one another."--"Ah, mother, what can I do? And then there's our own scrape about the geese. But Godfrey and Lina ....."--"True, true," cried Mrs. Nüssler, "the von Rambows helped to set them up in life, and we ought never to forget that."--"But," interposed Bräsig with a sly roguish look, "Mr. von Rambow has a friend! What would Mr. Samuel Pomuchelskopp say if he had heard what you said a minute ago?"--"Pomuchelskopp?" asked Fred. "We have nothing more to do with him," he added contemptuously; then bending towards Bräsig, he whispered: "He has demanded his money, principal and interest. I heard it from Zebedee, Moses' coachman Zebedee. So you see that there's no longer any friendship between the two. Slus'uhr either comes or writes daily, but we have also engaged a lawyer to help us, Mr. Rein. Do you know him?"--"Yes," whispered Bräsig, "I know him through the North-pole and the Faroe islands."--"Isn't he a very clever fellow?"--"Certainly. He can lead most people by the nose. But," he said aloud, "what is your master going to do about the labourers?"--"I'll tell you," answered Fred, "we've both determined to defend ourselves to the death, and so I had to go to Rahnstädt and buy these pistols."--"And if the labourers come back?"--"Then we'll shoot," said Fred.--"Right," said Bräsig taking up one of the pistols and playing with it carelessly, "but, Mrs. Nüssler," he went on, "you've made it quite wet and perhaps it'll rust." Then he proceeded to rub it up on the outside with the skirt of his coat, and while Fred explained the use and management of the other to Joseph Nüssler, he took it to the window as if to examine it better. "Where's your tool-box, Joseph?" he asked. Mr. Nüssler pointed to a cupboard with his foot. Fred heard a great knocking and hammering going on behind him and then a sharp sound as if something had cracked. When he turned round to look what it was, Bräsig held the pistol out to him, but without its dog head which he had just succeeded in twisting off with a pair of pincers. "There!"--"Confound it," cried Fred, jumping up. "Now," said Bräsig, "there's no fear of your shooting in the people's faces."--"How dared you destroy my pistols. Sir?"--"Because you're a foolish boy, and children oughtn't to play with fire-arms."--"You're an old ...."--"'Ass.' I suppose that was what you were going to say, and perhaps I am an ass for interfering with you; but, Sir, I am here in your aunt's stead, and I did what I did for her sake."--"My master told me to buy the pistols and I always do as he desires me."--"That's right. Here's the one for your master. Let him shoot with it if he likes. He has shot before now--but you ...." and suddenly thinking of Hawermann, he continued: "Wretched boy, hav'n't you done mischief enough already?"--Mrs. Nüssler exclaimed: "Hush, Bräsig. Not a word on that subject. But, Triddelfitz, you ought to be ashamed of yourself for talking so lightly of taking human life."--"What?" cried Joseph, springing to his feet, "he wasn't going to have shot at the people? Was he, mother?" Bolster was also affected by the excitement, and expressed his horror by giving utterance to one or two sharp barks, and Fred was so much confused by what he heard, that, forgetting all his former courtesy, he snatched up his waterproof, thrust the remaining pistol into his pocket and rushed away, only turning when he had reached the door to say with great emphasis that ten horses should never drag him over that threshold again. "It isn't at all necessary," replied Bräsig calmly. But if he had heard what Fred was muttering as he went along the road towards Pümpelhagen gazing blankly at his broken pistol, he might not have taken things so quietly. For Fred bestowed so many titles of honour on him that those of the emperor of Austria were few in comparison.

Fortunately he did not hear, and he thought and cared little that Fred should have put the Nüssler's house under the ban. That very morning he had seen how easily even old friendships are dissolved in troublous times, and he had promised solemnly, that under no circumstances whatsoever should he lead the Rahnstädt civic guard to Rexow. His quick temper often carried him further than he intended, but his good heart always conquered in the end. He wanted joy and peace to be everywhere, although his way of trying to bring them about often caused noise and strife instead.

In the dusk of evening when Joseph and Bolster were sleeping by the fire-side, uncle Bräsig thought there could not be a better time for him to say a few words about Rudolph and Mina, so he began: "Mrs. Nüssler, do you remember the saying: Long love, makes old love, and long ...."--"Have done with your stupid old proverbs, Bräsig. They don't suit either you or me. I know what you're going to say, and I agree with you that things can't go on much longer as they are, but what's to become of him and me?"--"Mrs. Nüssler, you mean young Joseph ...."--"Hush, Bräsig. Name no names I beg of you. If it were only him," pointing to Joseph, "you might do so as much as you liked, but he," pointing to Bolster, "is sharper than all of us put together, so take care what you say before him. Just look how he's pricking his ears."--"H'm!" said Bräsig, peering under Joseph's arm chair, "so he is, but that doesn't matter. Well, Mrs. Nüssler, this business must come to a happy end."--"Yes, Bräsig, that's just what I tell myself every day. But tell me, what's to become of me, and what's to become of him?" here she pointed at Joseph once more. "If Mina and Rudolph are to have the management of everything, what am I to do? and what is he to do?"--"Why, Mrs. Nüssler, you will have rest and quiet, and can rejoice in the happy life of your posterity."--"That's all very well, Bräsig, and I know that people can get used to anything, can even get used to idleness. But look at me. You see how stout I am in spite of my active life, and you know that if I were to sit still and do nothing, I'd grow so fat and unwieldy that I'd become a perfect monster."--"No, no, Mrs. Nüssler," replied uncle Bräsig, rising and standing before her, his heart full of the memory of their youth, "you have always been beautiful, and you will be beautiful as long as you live," and he bent over her and seized her hand. "Don't be silly," said Mrs. Nüssler, drawing away her hand, "just look at the old dog, he understands all that's going on. But it do'sn't so much matter about me, as about him. What's to become of him? I can always find something to do, but he--what sort of life will he have when he has no work?"--"He'll smoke and sleep," answered Bräsig. "Ah," she said, "he can do so now. But he is changed, very much changed lately. I won't speak of the silly affair of the geese, for I'll be able to talk him out of that, I know,--but he has grown so contradictious, and opposes everything that's done; when he has nothing to do I'm sure he'll get into some frightful scrape."--"Joseph?" cried Bräsig in amazement. "Yes, but it's no use going on now. Look!" On turning round, Bräsig saw Bolster get up and rub his tail twice under Joseph's nose, whereupon Mr. Nüssler stretched himself and asked in a very wakeful voice: "What o'clock is it, mother?" Then he stretched himself again, and becoming aware of Bräsig's presence, said: "What a clever fellow Mr. von Rambow is to have made another speech."

Rudolph came in, lights were brought, and Bräsig made a grimace at Rudolph across the table. He did not mean the young man any harm, he only intended to say: "Hold your tongue and trust in me. Your affair is progressing favourably." The evening passed very slowly, for each of the party was busied with his own thoughts, and when they all went to bed, Bräsig was the only one who fell asleep at once. Rudolph was thinking of Mina, and his marriage; Mrs. Nüssler, of the terribly idle life that lay before her; and Joseph, of the geese and Mr. von Rambow's speech. This last thought kept him from sleeping all night, and when Mrs. Nüssler turned on the other side towards morning in hopes of getting a little nap, she saw Joseph leaving the room fully dressed with Bolster at his heels. She could not make it out. The devil might know what he was about, she did not.

CHAPTER VII.

Young Joseph walked up and down the yard followed by Bolster. He often stood still during his walk and rubbed his forehead as if he did not know what to do next. Whenever he did so, Bolster also stood still, wagged his tail, and then immediately lost himself in sad consideration of the divided sovereignty that lay before him, Rudolph came out: "Why father," he said, "up already!"--"Yes, Rudolph, and it's all because of the geese;" he was going to have said something more, but the words did not come to him, and Rudolph exclaimed: "Don't bother your head about that, father, it's an old story now; but I'm very glad you're up, for you can give the overseer his orders, and I'll go and see how the field's getting on that I was at yesterday on the Pümpelhagen march. We must do the same as yesterday, cart manure to the potato land."--"Yes, Rudolph but ...."-"That's all you've to do, father; now I must be off," and he hastened away. Joseph resumed his walk up and down the yard till at last Kalsow, the overseer came to him: "Kalsow," said Joseph, "send all the workpeople here to me," and having given this order he went into the house accompanied by Bolster. The labourers, labourer's wives, and work-people crowded into the court and asked each other: "What are we to do?"--"I don't know," answered Kalsow, the overseer. "Ah then, just go and ask him, will you?"--Kalsow went into the parlour where he found young Joseph pacing up and down, followed by Bolster, for as Joseph had not taken off his cap. Bolster thought his company was required. "The villagers are all here, sir," said Kalsow.--"Good," replied young Joseph. "What are we to do now?" asked Kalsow.--"Wait," said Joseph.--Kalsow then went out and told the people, so they waited. In a short time he returned to his master: "They're waiting, sir," he said.--"Good," answered Joseph, "tell them to wait a little longer, for I'm going to make them a speech." Kalsow went out again and desired the people to wait, adding that Mr. Nüssler was going to make them a speech. They waited for a long time, but nothing came of it, and at last Christian the coachman, said: "I know him Kalsow. Go back and wake him up." So Kalsow went in again and asked: "Well, sir, how about the speech?"--"Confound you!" stormed Joseph, "do you think that my thoughts are growing on my back ready to be plucked when I want them." The overseer retired and said to the people: "It was of no use, it only made the master angry, so we must wait."--"Goodness gracious me!" cried Mrs. Nüssler, when she had finished tidying up the larder, "what's the meaning of this? Why are the people all standing in front of the house doing nothing?" and opening the window, she called out: "What are you doing there?"--"We're only waiting, mistress."--"What are you waiting for?"--"We don't know mistress, but the master's going to make us a speech."--"Who?" asked Mrs. Nüssler. "The master," said Kalsow. "What did you say he was going to make?"--"A speech," said Kalsow.--"A nice state of affairs this!" muttered Mrs. Nüssler as she slammed down the window. Then hastening to her husband, she seized him by the arm, and shook him as if she wanted to bring him back to his senses: "What are you going to do? You're going to make a speech? What sort of a speech are you going to make? Is it to be about me? or about Rudolph and Mina?"--"Mother," said Joseph firmly, "it's to be about the geese."--"May God have mercy upon you," said Mrs. Nüssler angrily, "if you ever dare to speak to me about the geese again."--"What?" cried Joseph, rising in open rebellion against his wife for the first time. "Mayn't I make a speech? Everyone does it; Mr. von Rambow does it; Bräsig speaks in the Reform-club, and you don't think me good enough to follow their example." Then striking the table with his fist: "I am master here, woman, and will speak about my own geese if I choose!" Mrs. Nüssler turned very pale, and stared at Joseph silently. After waiting a minute, she pressed one hand over her heart, and groped for the door handle, which having found she turned slowly, and then left the room backwards, her eyes still fixed on Joseph--in like manner as a lion tamer treats a wild beast which has defied his authority. As soon as she was safely out in the passage, she threw herself down on a bench and began to cry. Ah yes, the year 1848 was a terrible time. Lawful government was no longer held of any account, and open rebellion was the order of the day.

Bräsig came down stairs whistling merrily, but stopped short when he caught sight of his old sweetheart weeping bitterly. "As sure as your nose is in the middle of your face, tell me what's the matter? What makes you cry at this time of day, Mrs. Nüssler? it's only half past six." So saying he threw himself on the bench beside her, and tried to pull the apron away from her face, but she signed to him to let her alone. "Mrs. Nüssler," he exclaimed, "for God's sake tell me what has happened." After a long time she managed to ejaculate: "Joseph."--"Good God!" cried Bräsig. "He was quite well yesterday. Is he dead?"--"Dead? not he!" she exclaimed, throwing down her apron and showing her red eyes, "but he has gone quite mad!"--"God have mercy upon me!" cried Bräsig, springing to his feet, "what's he about?"--"He's going to make a speech."--"What? Young Joseph? A speech? that's a very bad sign!"--"Oh me, me!" groaned Mrs. Nüssler. "The labourers are all waiting for him to begin, and he almost turned me out of the room, indeed I hardly know how I got out."--"Well, I never thought of such a thing in my wildest conjecturation!" exclaimed Bräsig. "But keep your mind easy, Mrs. Nüssler, I'm not afraid, I'll venture into the parlour." And he immediately went away.