"Put the boy down again," she said. "You will tire the gentleman, Joachimchen."
The little fellow had begun to pull my whiskers with his slender fingers, which gave me great pleasure.
"Let him stay, Frau Luise," I said. "Shall I tell you a story, little Joachim? Or, shall we play together?"
"Play!" replied the dear child, and his earnest eyes sparkled. He slid quickly from my lap and again knelt on the carpet where the little menagerie lay, heaped in motley confusion. I sat down beside him and began to arrange the animals in pairs on the floor, asking my little playmate the name of each. He scarcely missed one.
"He is remarkably far advanced for his age," I said to his mother, who sat at her work, looking down at us with a quiet smile.
"He has associated entirely with grown persons," she replied. "I hope it will not always be so. I shall try to obtain some companions for him this winter. We shall then spend several months in the same place."
Just at that moment the door opened and her husband entered. He paused as he saw the strange group at the window, but, when I rose, and his wife mentioned my name, came forward with outstretched hand, saying, in the beautiful baritone voice he used in personating his heroes:
"How do you do, Herr Candidate? We are old acquaintances, for you were among the spectators at my disastrous appearance at the castle. It certainly was not one of my brilliant parts, and the only hand that moved to clap, wounded me. But, for the sake of the happy afterpiece, I still remember the day with joy and gratitude. Do I not, dear wife?"
He had taken his wife's hand and raised it to his lips. I could not help owning that his chivalrous bearing suited him admirably. Though he had just passed his fortieth year, his appearance was still youthful and winning; there was not a gray hair in his locks à la Hendricks; the expression of the pale, finely-chiseled features was a trifle self-complacent and triumphant, but unmistakably kind. Even his conspicuous dress--a short, black-velvet coat trimmed with braid, yellow nankeen trousers, and a red-silk kerchief knotted loosely around his throat--was becoming. One thing, however, I did not like: he nodded to the child with sarcastic condescension, and, after a careless "How are you, lad?" took no further notice of him. The boy, too, quietly continued his play as if a total stranger had entered.
The great artist instantly asked me familiarly if I felt inclined to change the pulpit for the stage, since it was well known that an actor can teach a pastor. Luise had told him that I was musical; as he meant in time to add operettas to his list of attractions, he could make me a sort of conductor, unless I should prefer to fit myself to be an actor. I would find it pleasant with him; his wife could bear witness that he did not make amends for the petticoat government he was under at home by tyranny behind the scenes.