“O God, I thank Thee for sending down the waters of heaven to cleanse my heart from passion and slavish love, and making me free again! And now I am free!—am once more myself! am free!”
Schiller entered Streicher’s apartment with a cheerful countenance, and greeted his friend heartily; but Andrew regarded his wet clothing and dripping hair with dismay.
“Where in the world do you come from, Fritz? You look as if you had been paying the Maid of the Rhine a visit, and had just escaped from her moist embrace!”
“You are, perhaps, right, Andrew! I have just taken leave of the fair maid who had bewitched me.”
“But what have you done with your hat, Fritz? Did you leave it with the maid as a souvenir?”
“You are, perhaps, right again, Andrew. I left my hat with the maid as a souvenir, and only succeeded in slipping my head out of the noose.”
“Be kind enough to speak sensibly,” said Streicher, “and tell me where your hat is.”
“I have told you already I left it with the Maid of the Rhine as a souvenir.”
“I wish you had not done so,” said Andrew, in grumbling tones. “You had better have left her a lock of your yellow hair; that would have been cheaper, for hair grows again, but hats must be bought. Well, fortunately I happened to buy a new hat to-day, and that you must take, of course.”