"Is it a trouble to you to stand?" asked Anton.
"That is just what it is," replied Sturm. "It is a sour trial, and every day more and more so; but, Wilhelm," continued he, addressing the spokesman of the party, "in a fortnight that will be all over, and there will then be no more sourness, except, perhaps, a little in your faces for an hour or two, till evening, when you must come back here and sit down, and talk of old Sturm as of a comrade who has laid him down to rest, and who will never lift another burden; for I fancy that yonder, where we go, there will be nothing heavy."
"You hear him!" said Wilhelm, anxiously. "He is getting absurd again."
"What says the doctor to your complaint?" suddenly inquired Anton.
"The doctor!" said old Sturm; "if he were to be asked about me, he would have enough to say. But we do not ask him. Between ourselves, there is no use in a doctor. They may know what is the matter with many men, that I don't deny; but how should they know what is the matter with us? Not one of them can lift a barrel."
"If you have no doctor, my good Mr. Sturm," cried Anton, throwing open the window, "let me begin at once to play a doctor's part. If your breathing be oppressed, this close atmosphere is poison to you; and if you suffer from your feet, you ought not to go on drinking." And he moved the beer-mug to another table.
"Hum, hum, hum!" said Sturm, watching his proceedings; "well meant, but of no use. A little smoke keeps one warm, and we are accustomed to the beer. After I have sat on this bench all day alone, without work or company, it is a pleasure to me that my friends should come and enjoy themselves with me of an evening. They talk to me, and I get some tidings of the business, and of what is going on in the world."
"But you yourself, at least, might abstain from beer and tobacco," replied Anton; "your Karl would tell you the same; and, as he is away, you must let me take his place." Then turning to the others, "I will convince him that he is wrong; leave me alone with him for half an hour."
The giants left the room. Anton sat by the invalid and spoke on the father's favorite topic—spoke of his son.
Sturm forgot all his dark forebodings, and got into excellent spirits.