“Why, man, do not talk to me again of marrying,” cried Gellert. “What has that fatal word to do in my study?”
“A great deal, sir; only look how miserable every thing is here; not even neat and comfortable, as it should certainly be in the room of so learned and celebrated a professor. Only think of the change that would be made by a bright young wife. You must marry, professor, and the lady must be rich. This state of things cannot continue; you must take a wife, for you cannot live on your celebrity.”
“No, Conrad, but on my salary,” said Gellert. “I receive two hundred and fifty thalers from my professorship; only think, two hundred and fifty thalers! That is a great deal for a German poet, Conrad; I should consider myself most fortunate. It is sufficient for my necessities, and will certainly keep me from want.”
“It would be sufficient, professor, if we were not so extravagant. I am an old man, and you may very well listen to a word from me. I served your father for fifteen years—in fact, you inherited me from him. I have the right to speak. If it goes so far, I will hunger and thirst with you, but it makes me angry that we should hunger and thirst when there is no necessity. Have you dined today?”
“No, Conrad,” said Gellert, looking embarrassed. “I had, accidentally, no money with me as I came out of the academy, and you know that I do not like to go to the eating-house without paying immediately.”
“Accidentally you had no money? You had probably left it at home.”
“Yes, Conrad, I had left it at home.”
“No, sir; you gave your last thaler to the student who came this morning and told you of his necessities, and complained so bitterly that he had eaten nothing warm for three days. You gave your money to him, and that was not right, for now we have nothing ourselves.”
“Yes, Conrad, it was right, it was my duty; he hungered and I was full; he was poor and in want, and I had money, and sat in my warm, comfortable room; it was quite right for me to help him.”
“Yes, you say so always, sir, and our money all goes to the devil,” muttered Conrad. “With what shall we satisfy ourselves to-day?”