“Ah, the Kœmpe Viser?” said the elderly individual, breathing forth an immense volume of smoke, which he had been collecting during the declamation of his young companion. “There are singular things in that book, I must confess; and I thank you for showing it to me, or rather your attempt at translation. I was struck with that ballad of Orm Ungarswayne, who goes by night to the grave-hill of his father to seek for counsel. And then, again, that strange melancholy Swayne Vonved, who roams about the world propounding people riddles; slaying those who cannot answer, and rewarding those who can with golden bracelets. Were it not for the violence, I should say that ballad has a philosophic tendency. I thank you for making me acquainted with the book, and I thank the Jew Mousha for making me acquainted with you.”
“That Mousha was a strange customer,” said the youth, collecting himself.
“He was a strange customer,” said the elder individual, breathing forth a gentle cloud. “I love to exercise hospitality to wandering strangers, especially foreigners; and when he came to this place, pretending to teach German and Hebrew, I asked him to dinner. After the first dinner, he asked me to lend him five pounds; I did lend him five pounds. After the fifth dinner, he asked me to lend him fifty pounds; I did not lend him the fifty pounds.”
“He was as ignorant of German as of Hebrew,” said the youth; “on which account he was soon glad, I suppose, to transfer his pupil to some one else.”
“He told me,” said the elder individual, “that he intended to leave a
town where he did not find sufficient encouragement; and, at the same time, expressed regret at being obliged to abandon a certain extraordinary pupil, for whom he had a particular regard. Now I, who have taught many people German from the love which I bear to it, and the desire which I feel that it should be generally diffused, instantly said, that I should be happy to take his pupil off his hands, and afford him what instruction I could in German, for, as to Hebrew, I have never taken much interest in it. Such was the origin of our acquaintance. You have been an apt scholar. Of late, however, I have seen little of you—what is the reason?”
The youth made no answer.
“You think, probably, that you have learned all I can teach you? Well, perhaps you are right.”
“Not so, not so,” said the young man eagerly; “before I knew you I knew nothing, and am still very ignorant; but of late my father’s health has been very much broken, and he requires attention; his spirits also have become low, which, to tell you the truth, he attributes to my misconduct. He says that I have imbibed all kinds of strange notions and doctrines, which will, in all probability, prove my ruin, both here and hereafter; which—which—”
“Ah, I understand,” said the elder, with another calm whiff. “I have always had a kind of respect for your father, for there is something remarkable in his appearance, something heroic, and I would fain have cultivated his acquaintance; the feeling, however, has not been reciprocated. I met him, the other day, up the road, with his cane and dog, and saluted him; he did not return my salutation.”