The chieftains of progress, perambulating the ground with an air of triumph, bestowed friendly nods of recognition on all sides, and condescendingly engaged in conversation with some of the rank and file.
Hans Shund approached the awning where the woman with the bare shoulders and indecent costume had taken a seat. She had captivated the gallant chief magistrate, who hovered about her as a raven hovers over a dead carcass. Moving off, he halted within hearing distance, and, casting frequent glances back, addressed immodest jokes to those who occupied the other side of the table, at which they laughed and applauded immoderately.
The men whom Seraphin had met in the subterranean den, on the memorable night before the election, were also present: Flachsen, Graeulich, Koenig, and a host of others. They were regaling themselves with sausages which omitted an unmistakable odor of garlic, and were of a [pg 554] very dubious appearance; interrupting the process of eating with frequent and copious draughts from their beer-mugs.
“Drink, old woman!” cried Graeulich to his wife. “Drink, I tell you! It doesn't cost us anything to-day.”
The woman put the jug to her lips and drained it manfully. Other women who were present screamed in chorus, and the men laughed boisterously.
“Your old woman does that handsomely,” applauded Koth. “Hell and thunder! But she must be a real spitfire.”
Again they laughed uproariously.
“I wish there were an election every day, what a jolly life this would be!” said Koenig. “Nothing to do, eating and drinking gratis—what more would you wish?”
“That's the way the bigbugs live all the year round. They may eat and drink what they like best, and needn't do a hand's turn. Isn't it glorious to be rich?” cried Graeulich.
“So drink, boys, drink till you can't stand! We are all of us bigbugs to-day.”