"'As you will, but won't you sit down?' said Erich, hesitating, divided between fear of giving the old man a cold, and fear of not showing him proper attention.
"Right and left of me our comrades were chatting. 'Sylvester,' cried Schmied, 'it's the stupidest day of the year. It makes me think of punch, and cakes, and cousins.'
"'It makes me think of my tailor and my governor,' laughed Farmer Toni.
"The peasant-count was sitting on a bale of hay: Schmied stood over against him, leaning on the side of a forage wagon. Toni wore a short white riding coat; his chin was in his hands, his elbows were on his knees.
"'To the first I owe a bill,' he went on, 'And to the latter I owe congratulations. Schmied, do you think he'd be satisfied with "Best Wishes for the New Year," on a card?'
'"Are you going to Schirmberg's to-night?' asked another officer coming up.
"'Must,' said Toni, laconically. 'And you?'
"'I don't know. Perhaps I can plead another engagement. It will be deadly dull at Schirmberg's.'
"'I hear they are going to serve champagne and a prince of the blood,' said Schmied.
"'Hello! What's old Gusti up to?' laughed Toni: 'Big soirées are not in her line.'