“That is for you to say, doctor,” replied Christian; “you know him; you can tell whether he will cover us with glory or with shame.”
“It will be with glory; I know it.”
“Go on, then.”
“But the poor fellow will be tired. He will get heated, and God only knows whether he will not have inflammation of the lungs!”
“Don’t go, then.”
“The devil take your indifference, Christian! For my part, my hands are burning to try it.”
“Try it, then!”
“But for a sensible man like me to run his horse’s legs off, just to beat a parcel of boys! It’s absurd, Christian, isn’t it?”
“It is, if you think so; it all depends upon the degree of intoxication with which we go into such amusements.”
“We’ll go!” exclaimed M. Goefle; “to resist the suggestions of intoxication is to be reasonable; that is, to be stupid. Get up, Loki!”