"Fellow-citizens!" began Bräsig; but--bang!--he shut down the window: "Thunder and lightning, that won't do! They are only day-laborers, one can't talk to them as if they were burghers! And now you see, Jochen, how difficult it is to make a speech, and will you meddle with a business, for which even I am not prepared?"
"Yes, Bräsig, but----"
"Be still, Jochen, I know what you are going to say." He went to the window, opened it again, and said, "Children, each one go to his work, for to-day; there will be no speech to-day."
"Well, that is all the same to us," said Kalsow, "but the Herr---"
"He has been thinking about it," interrupted Bräsig, "and he has decided that the spring is too early for it; by and by, at harvest, he will make you a fine one."
"Yes," said Kalsow, "that is the best way. Come then, people!" and they went to their labor.
But now, as the coast was clear, Bräsig turned towards Jochen, and all the dignity, which his body was capable of expressing, was shown in his manner to Jochen, and all the influence he had exercised upon Jochen, in years past, now centered upon the poor kammerpächter, as he said, "What? They call you crazy? You are no more crazy than Bauschan and I; but you are foolish. Why did your dear--I mean blessed--I mean cursed--parents bring you into the world? To make speeches, and frighten your dear wife out or her wits, who has nourished you at her bosom this five and twenty years, like a new-born child? Come with me, this moment, and beg her pardon, and tell her you will never do so again!"
And Jochen would have done so; but he was spared the apology, at least in the manner which Bräsig demanded, for Frau Nüssler entered the room:
"Jochen, Jochen! How you distress me!"
"Eh, mother----"