"I understand," said Fritz; "not married, but 'verlobt'."
"No, nor that either."
"No? Verliebt, then, perhaps."
"No, neither 'verlobt' nor 'verliebt'."
"What!" exclaimed the Englishman, "not even that! Nevertheless, if I remember rightly, the student Ludwig Engstein was not once averse to the fair sex."
"Oh, recall not the follies of the past, my friend, or I may retaliate," answered the German.
"True, true," said the Englishman. "We all have our weaknesses, and youth is the season in which they mostly flourish, but now we have both grown into sober-minded Philister,[4] and are more wary."
"Yes, yes," rejoined his friend; "we are not to be caught now by a pair of blue eyes, flaxen tresses, and a jimp waist, however well these charms may be set off with the allurements of dress. When men get to our advanced age, they want 'geist,' and look out for a good housewife who can cook them a dish of 'sauer kraut' or a 'pfankuchen' when 'das moos'[5] is wanting, which is another very useful accessory we desire to have thrown in."
Here he made a significant gesture with his finger and thumb, intended to express the counting of money.
"I hope, my friend, you have not become so worldly as to look upon marriage in the light of bettering yourself," said my relative.