"Save when you want it."
"Oh! I mean to come with it."
"'Tis the handsomest pipe in all Germany,—and—and I won't part with it till I part with you."
Hence, you see, there were two marriages that morning. Doome parted with the pipe a good deal,—for Daniel loved the sea as heartily as he had loved Bertha and grew to love Doome, who assured him many times that she was a far better wife for him than Bertha would have made. Whereupon Daniel would kiss her,—so you can draw your own conclusion as to his motive. For my part, I say first love is only heart-love,—and you see the heart is not so wise as the head.
By the time the long war was over,—with Waterloo for the last act, —Ernest had made not a little money; so he and Bertha—now a grand lady—came to Rügen. Ernest learned German, perfectly, from his own children and Doome's, and turned his sword into a ploughshare.
As for Daniel,—he gave up the sea and took a wine-shop.
Those four people are now still alive; and if Bertha and Daniel did not marry, their children have,—though it was rather lowering to those grand young ladies and gentlemen, Bertha's children.
Those four, when they meet and clapper their friendly old tongues, can hardly believe that once upon a time they were all at sixes and sevens,—and that Ernest himself was once in that very place a Prisoner of War.
THE "WASHING OF THE FEET," ON HOLY THURSDAY, IN ST. PETER'S.
Once more the temple-gates lie open wide:
Onward, once more,
Advance the Faithful, mounting like a tide
That climbs the shore.