Joy had come to my mother rather too hastily at first; but she had got over the shock. Now it came to her from twig to twig; and, as my father entered the room, it sang its song full in her ears; the bird had come to her at last in a short jacket, and it seemed as if it were making all manner of bobbings to her out of the bush; she laughed with all her heart. The memory of this day was preserved amongst us down to the latest times, and whenever my father happened to return home from his work and cares in a particularly happy mood, we used to say: "father has got his short jacket on to-day."
When the first burst of happiness was somewhat over, the old Herr began: "And so you have brought the French Chasseur along with you, my friend?"
"Not I," said my father; "the Miller's Friedrich has done the greater part of the business; the Gülzow Bailiff helped him."
"This Friedrich must be a clever determined fellow," said the Amtshauptmann. "Eh, what say you? Let us have him in."
Friedrich came and the Bailiff too.
"Was it you, Friedrich, who threw the Frenchman out of the waggon?"
Friedrich thought to himself--"What? Is another court of justice going to be held?" And since he must needs answer the Amtshauptmann's question with a "yes," he planted himself firmly, with one leg advanced, and stood ready prepared for whatever might come: "Yes, Herr Amtshauptmann," said he.
"And are you aware that you have brought the Miller into great trouble?"
"Trouble? He's pretty well used to troubles, and one more won't hurt him."
"Was it you who took the valise from the Frenchman's horse?"