Uncle Bräsig lay by the window, smoking his pipe, and thinking over his heroic deeds of the previous evening. Kurz, although he had not attended the fraternity ball, was fearfully cross, and went scolding about his shop: "The stupid dunce! the harlequin! Only wait! Only come home!" and, although he intended to be in such different circumstances afterwards, he must at length come home, that is to say, Herr Süssmann. Herr Süssmann danced over the threshold. Kurz braced his two hands against the counter, and looked at him, as if he would spring over the counter in his wrath, and meet Herr Süssmann in the hall; he let him, however, come into the shop first.
"Morning, principal, principälchen, principälchen!" cried Herr Süssmann, staggering about the shop, and finally seating himself on the rim of a herring cask, with his hat cocked on one side: "Morning, Kurzchen, Schurzchen, Wurzchen----" but he had not time to finish his variations, Kurz had his hands in his hair, knocked off his hat into the herring-cask, and began dragging him about the shop by his ambrosial locks. Herr Süssmann groped blindly about him for something to lay hold of, and caught at the stop-cock of the oil-cask; the cock came out, and the oil poured out in a stream.
"Good heavens!" cried Kurz, "my oil! my oil!" and he let go of Herr Süssmann, and stuck his right fore-finger into the hole. Herr Süssmann held up the cock in triumph, and, as it often happens that crazy or intoxicated people do uncommonly clever things, the bright idea occurred to Herr Süssmann that he would do his work thoroughly. So he pulled out the cock from the vinegar barrel.
"Oh, good gracious! my vinegar!" cried Kurz, and he stuck his left fore-finger into the vinegar barrel. And as he was now fairly caught, and stooping over, the opportunity was too tempting for Herr Süssmann to neglect. "Principälchen! Kurzchen!"--whack! "Leben sie wohl, Tuten dreherchen!"--whack, whack! "Johannageht, und nimmer kehrt sie wieder!"--whack, whack, whack! Then he fished his hat out of the herring-cask, put it on, as much askew as possible, laid the two cocks on the counter, about twenty feet from Kurz, and danced, laughing, out of the door.
"Help!" screamed Kurz, "help! he-l-p!" But his people were not in the house, and his good old advocate was in the back garden, cutting asparagus, and the only one who heard him was Uncle Bräsig. "Karl," said he, "it seems to me, as if Kurz were yelling. I will go over, and see if anything has happened."
"He-l-p!" cried Kurz.
"Preserve us!" said Bräsig, "what an uproar you are making here, at seven o'clock in the morning!"
"Infamous rascal!"
"How? Is that the way you greet me?"
"Good-for-nothing scamp!"