groschen piece on the counter, and asking for four groschens' worth of cakes and a four-groschen glass of punch. This amazed me, for he preferred ruin to punch, and never tasted cake. "Why, what does this mean?" I thought; "he is probably going to treat some children." But, no! Without perceiving me, he went with his pile of cakes and glass of punch to a sleigh in which sat a lady with a grey veil, bent his body forward as if he wanted to sprain his back, and slipped about on the ice so comically that I thought the old man I would lose his balance, and was on the point of springing forward to seize him by the arm just at that moment the lady threw back her veil, and what did I see? My dear sweetheart, the light of my eyes! I felt as if some one had slapped me in the face. "The deuce!" I exclaimed; "the old fellow is spoiling the whole courtship," and went home furiously angry. I sat in the dark, fretting internally, when the door opened and my uncle came in. "Good evening," said he. "Why are you sitting here in the dark? Light a lamp." This is the only time in my life I ever failed to say good-day to my mother's brother; but I rose and lighted a lamp, looking like a salt herring that had lain a fortnight in vinegar. "What ails you?" he asked. "Nothing," I answered curtly, but thought, "He is my mother's brother," and added, "I don't feel well." “I do," said he, looking as jolly as an old donkey which has been standing in his stall a fortnight eating oats. "I've been talking with her again," he added. "I don't care," I replied. "What am I to understand by that?" he asked, with a very solemn face. "I've done with the dream," said I. "You don't want to marry her?" he asked, putting both arms on the back of the arm-chair, and looking me sharply in the face. "I've managed the matter so delicately- - so delicately that a dog might howl if nothing came of it—and now you won't marry her!" "Well," he replied, gazing steadily at me with a very grave face, as if he had just made his will and was going to sign it, "well, the girl shall come to no harm through me, for I'll marry her myself!" and with these words stalked proudly out of the room. This was a pretty piece of business. At first I stood bewildered, then threw myself on the sofa and burst into a hearty laugh. My uncle, who was at least twenty years older than I, would marry, while I at my age had not courage! I tried to laugh again, but did not succeed very well, for my heart was not untroubled; and though I made my face broad enough the laugh stuck in my throat, and when I caught, in the looking-glass, a glimpse of myself with the stupidest expression in the world, I started up, paced up and down the room with long strides, raged against myself, struck the table with my fist, and said, "He'll do it - he's capable of it!" When Frau Bütoun came, she of course gave me many occasions for scolding; and when I had put things to rights I went to the club, and played ombre, constantly saying to myself, "You can't allow that," and lost, and then murmured, "You would not let that heart be bought!" and was beaten. I went sulkily home, threw myself down and tried to sleep, but could not. I raged against myself all night, for I could not give up that sweet child-she had done me no wrong—and was I never, in all my life, to adorn a fir-tree on Christmas eve? If I said to myself, "Why not?" all my scruples darted through my brain like a swarm of bumble-bees; and before my eyes appeared a huge interrogation-point, which, if I interpreted. it, always said, "But will she marry you?"" Well, that no one can answer better than she herself that I perceived; and when the grey winter morning shone into "No, uncle, I won't. Do you suppose my cold room and chilled me to the bones, I'll let you take the cream, and be satisfied as I made my coffee, I murmured, "Now with the sour milk? For in this they all I have decided. What must be, must be," agree - see here! Amalie Schoppe, née Weise, and Elise von Hohenhausen, née von Ochs, and all the rest who have written about this relation-the fairest part of marriage is the intercourse of betrothed lovers; and this you are monopolizing yourself, and I must look on and see you and said to Frau Bütoun, "Frau Bütoun, go to Bohnsacken's shop, and buy me a pair of the nice yellow gloves young lawyers always wear, when they are on some important business. They must be very yellow." About eleven o'clock I put on my black frock-coat, black pants, shining boots, and new yellow gloves, placed my hat above the whole, went to the looking-glass, and said with good reason, "Is it possible I shouldn't have known myself!" Then I glanced around the room, and added, Things won't probably remain in this state long." I looked at my old slippers, which stood before the bed, saying, "You'll be astonished if all goes well, and in a few weeks a pair of pretty little shoes come to visit you." 66 I walked down the street, reached my Uncle Matthias's door, and thought, "One should be at peace with all the world, before he takes such a step; " for I felt as if I were going to execution. So I knocked and went in. Well, I've seen a great many things in this world; I once saw a fellow eat fire; I once saw a man eat tow and draw a beautiful silk ribbon out of his mouth; but never was I so astonished as at the moment I beheld my Uncle Matthias that morning. There he stood in his room in the selfsame costume as I, only that his black coat was a green hunting-shirt, and his yellow gloves were of buckskin, while mine were kid, and his white moustache hung over his mouth like a pair of icicles, and mine twisted upward, and was all sorts of colours. "Uncle!" I cried, as I came in, and my hat rolled off on the floor in my amaze ment. "What do you want, my boy?" he plied. take something to strengthen you first. Where are you going to begin?" "Ah!" said I, "if I only knew." "Put your leg on the chair," said he. Why?" I asked. 66 "Nothing," he replied, unbuttoning the straps of my pants, "only you must begin by falling on your knees, and these might be in your way." "Well,” said I, "you commence well." "What is proper, must be done," said he. "I never went through the affair myself, but I've always seen it in pictures. What do you say? Stop! I'll help you!" and with these words he hastily pulled out his chest of drawers and rummaged in the one that contained his most sacred treasures. Yes, he appeared with his book of genealogy. This was rarely touched, and, when he did move it, only in the evening when everything was still. Then he first put on clean linen and his best clothes, placed two lamps on the table, one on each side, pondered over every page, read all the verses, and marked the death-record with black crosses. The following morning he was always very melancholy; and the last time he had looked at it he came to me the next morning, and said, "So far as I know, there is one alive still, Christian Bunger, the son of old Bunger, the tailor, who used to live next door to my parents. If God spares my life, I'll visit him this summer." "Here!" said he, when he had taken re-out the book and laid it on the table, "sit down here and look out a verse and learn it by heart. There are some which pray to our Lord in heaven, - no doubt you can also find one for the best girl on earth.” "Uncle," said I, taking the book and turning the leaves, "I know what to do: I will say what my heart dictates, and there is a great deal in my heart to-day." "What do you want?" I shouted. "I want what you don't," he replied. "But I do want it. And,” I added, “I only came here in this dress, to tell you that I was too hasty, and ask you to be my dear old uncle again." "Is that what you want?" he said, sitting down in his arm-chair, and looking me steadily in the face. "Well, then, I'll tell you that I was going to your house in this dress to give you a little fright. I learned while I was a soldier that a little fright does men good, for then shame comes in. And, my boy," he said, rising, and laying his hand on my arm, "I won't stand in your way, and make a wrinkle on the white sheet of your happiness, for the little girl is born for you, and she is a good girl." With these words he gave my arm such a pinch with his huge old fist that I thought, "If she is like that, she is more than good." My uncle now brought out a glass of his old port wine, saying, " Here, my boy, "That's well, my boy," replied my uncle, "nay, perhaps, still better. Stop!" he added, as I was turning to leave the room, "the white string on your shirt is hanging half a yard down your back," and he fastened it under the collar. "There, now, go in God's name." I went'; but as I left the house I heard a noise over me, and when I looked up there was Uncle Matthias stretching himself half out of the window, nodding and winking at me, and whenever I looked back on my way down the long street he nodded, and waved his red pocket-handkerchief, till I was afraid people might guess what secret we had between us. I might tell a tale, but shall avoid doing So. Such affairs don't go as smoothly in real life as in novels. Ninety-nine out of every hundred make the most absurd blunders on this occasion; and, even if the whole hundred return as the happiest betrothed bridegrooms, the ninety and nine would still say to themselves, "God grant that we may never be in that fix again, but, if we do undertake the business, we'll manage more cleverly." God grant that I may never be in the position again! At the end of an hour and a half I came back, the happiest of men, and probably looked so; and, as in my lonely bachelor life I had acquired the foolish habit of talking to myself, I cannot, on calm reflection, blame people for moving out of my way as I came down the street, and looking somewhat sharply at me. When about three rods from my uncle's house, he rushed forward to meet me, threw his arms around my neck - he had been standing outside the door the whole hour and a half, watching for me and cried, "Hold your tongue! hold your tongue! I know all, and when will the wedding be?" I silenced him, saying, "Hush! At least wait until we are out of the street," took him by the arm, and dragged him home with me; but when we came in, though Frau Bütoun was setting the table for dinner, he could control himself no longer, but poured out his whole heart, and, when the woman stared at him, pointed over his shoulder at me, saying, "Look there, Frau Bütoun, there he stands - my sister's son. He's a betrothed bridegroom." And when Frau Bütoun congratulated me, and wished to know who the fortunate lady was, I had to hush him again; and when she had gone he talked and looked at me very indignantly. I was a hypocrite, a very obstinate fellow, and I had a black heart if I could conceal such happiness so long. what you have, the wolf will eat what comes after. You crowed too soon; the affair is still a long way from being settled; kneeling is a part of every betrothal, and the agreement is good for nothing if it isn't sealed on both knees. I shouldn't be in the least surprised if the engagement was off to-morrow. Another time take my advice!" With these words he left the room. Nevertheless, wonderfully happy days now dawned for me, wonderfully happy days. Once more I might find much to tell, but will refrain. The greatest joys and deepest sorrows must not be public to every one; and, although I am ready to believe that all who read these lines are well-bred, worthy people, some Hans Quast might slip in among them and make jokes at my expense, and that would be extremely unpleasant to me. too But every good honey-cake needs a small sprinkling of pepper, and I, too, did not fail to receive it. In the first place, my Uncle Matthias scattered a few grains; but when he saw that the affair was likely to last, and had himself paid a friendly visit to my betrothed, and ascertained her skill in cooking fried fish to his satisfaction, he dropped his spice and dipped deep into his honey-potdeep, I said, for he described my happiness to everybody who would listen to him in such glowing terms, that so many flies were soon buzzing in my honey-moon that I did not know where to hide myself, and as many comical stories were in circulation concerning me as if I had become not only a bridegroom, but a butt for everybody's amusement. I was the object of jests whenever I appeared. At every fifth step in the street some fool grinned at me, and if I asked what there was to laugh at all said, as if they had made some agreement, "Oh! nothing, nothing! If I I was obliged to sit down and tell him went to my old club in the evening - for the whole story, after which he became a that I had instantly announced my intenlittle more friendly, nodded, and said, "Ex-tion of doing, I wouldn't have given it up cellent;" then shook his head, remarking, "That was not exactly to his mind." When I had told the whole, he rose with a face like the sky in haying-time, when it is uncertain whether to rain or let the sun shine; he shook his head and nodded, nodded and shook his head, and at last said, "For his part, he would have done better;" and then asked at which verse of this chapter I had gone down on my knees. I was obliged to confess that I had not come to that at all. Uncle Matthias took his hat, saying, "Well, then, I wish you a good appetite. under any circumstances, in the first place because it was, so to speak, the home of my mind, and secondly because I thought it conducive to my culture well, when I went there, there was a whispering and hushing and nudging; stories were told of what such a person had said before marriage, and what he had said after marriage, and what the shepherd had said to his dog; and if I grew angry and asked what they meant, and how the point concerned me, all said, "Heaven forbid! We mean nothing." If for these reasons Hold fast to | I did not go to the club in the evening, 6 Frau Bütoun opened her little pepper-mili, | proverb. What does the fellow mean? and scattered the fine dust in my nose and My wife wants what I want, and I don't eyes. Should this thing be so? or should want this.' You must ask Uncle Matit be so? She didn't know where I wanted thias about it." this now. She was an old woman, and had taken care of a great many gentlemen in her lifetime, but none who were betrothed. I must have patience with her, for things would soon be very different. And as for removing all this stuff she thought I was perfectly right, it was not good enough for my betrothed bride, who, she had heard, had been reared like a princess and never dipped her fingers in cold water; but her eyes were too old to see every spot on the coat. And if my betrothed wanted to visit me soon she might do so; for her part she had no objections, and if the linen and the floor and the bureau-cover didn't suit her, or the little cupboard she had put in one corner of my room for her convenience, she wasn't going to wear herself out. And if I wanted a fire in the evening I might say so she didn't know. I always used to go to the club, why didn't I now? And then she sat down before the stove, and puffed, and puffed, and the coals glowed on her fat red cheeks, so that I could not look at her without thinking, "God forgive me for my heavy sins! I know very well that this is my Frau Bütoun, and a Christian widow-why must I always think of the distinguished people who dwell in a place that is said to be very hot? And when she blows the fire why do I always think that possibly in that place somebody is sitting, blowing coals to warm up my beautiful married happiness a little." From this any one may suppose that my scruples were not all thrown out of the window; and they became still worse as I walked down the street one afternoon on my way from a visit to my betrothed bride. As I walked along the street on this day, I heard a loud noise in the distance, the people looked out of the windows, and before one of the doors a little group had assembled. Just as I was passing the door, the furrier Obst shot out of his shop and landed in the gutter. "Good heavens!" said his neighbour Graün, "what are you doing there?" "Oh! that's easy to tell," said the furrier, "my womenkind pitched me out." "But why?" asked the other. "I'll tell you," said the furrier, rising; "my wife wants what I want, and I don't want this." As this story gave me no information, I walked on, thinking, "It's some foolish So I went to his house, related the incident, repeated the words, and asked, "Uncle, what does the fellow mean by it?" "Why?" said he, walking thoughtfully up and down the room," and the fellow was thrown out by his womenkind, you say?" 66 Yes," I replied, "he said so himself." "And he was sitting in the gutter?" "Yes." "Well," said my uncle, after a few moments' reflection, "then this was probably his meaning, for his wife threw him out, and that would agree with this proverb, for it runs, My wife wants to be master in the house, and I want to be master too; and my wife wants her way, and I won't consent.' But," he added, "if she was in the house and he sitting outside in the gutter, she was doubtless master." I don't know why this conversation made me feel so troubled and anxious. I had never looked at my design from this point. "Uncle," said I, “ you know me, and know her too. Which of us do you think will be master in the house?" 66 Why," said he, "she doesn't seem to me at all as if she would like to sit outside the house in the gutter. I believe she would rather remain indoors." "The devil!" I exclaimed. "Oh! she probably wouldn't make it so bad as that," said Uncle Matthias; "she would doubtless exert a gentle, feminine rule, as people call it, over you, - you would be somewhat tightly tied to her apron-string." "I'm not afraid of that," said I; "after the marriage I'd soon get her out of the habit of having the first bushel of rye." "Don't rely upon that," said my uncle. "You know the proverb: Before the wedding tame your mate, After the wedding 'tis too late." "No," I replied, "that's something new," and looked as if my uncle had told me I had been made pope. "Well, then, sit down," said he, "and I'll tell you a story." "Go on," I replied, "but don't try to give it a useful moral. I'm too old for that." "Don't worry," said he, "your dear wife will apply the moral, if you don't follow my advice." I sat down in my uncle's room, and he began the story. "In Rumpelmannshagen, where I spent the first years of my apprenticeship, lived two fine young fellows, one named Wolf, who was a blacksmith in the village, and the other named Kiwitt, who was a miller. The smith was smart and knew what he was doing, the miller was stupid, but had money. Well, in due time a rumour ran through the village: Gossips, have you all heard? The smith and the miller are courting the magistrate's Sophie and Marie, and they say the weddings will come off at Martinmas.' And it proved true. They were both married at Martinmas, and the old father gave a splendid wedding, and we young people were invited; and I remember to this day what jolly times we had, for towards morning Ludwig Brookmann turned a mug of beer over my head, and when I was angry said, 'One ought surely to take a joke.' After the wedding everything went smoothly for a time, but ere long there was a whisper in the village: 'Gossips, have you | all heard the news? The miller's wife beats her husband.' And this was true. One Sunday afternoon the miller came to the smith, who was sitting in the inn playing solitaire. Well,' said the former, 'I know what has happened to you to-day.' "How so?' asked the smith, rising and going out with his brother-in-law. "Why,' said the miller, 'don't try to humbug me! we have both gone into fine service.' "Well, what did you do then?' "I'll tell you,' said the smith. 'When we were betrothed, I watched to discover what article of dress she liked best, and I found it was a pretty little red silk handkerchief; so I seized the opportunity when we had had breakfast, and the table was smeared with goose-grease, to wipe it off with her beautiful handkerchief. Well, you can imagine how she stormed at me! But I clasped her in my arms, and kissed her, saying, “Sophie, you surely have me. What do you care for such a handkerchief? You can get another like it, but you won't so easily find a man as fond of you as I am." Well, she submitted, and when we afterwards went to the royal shooting-match, she bought a pot, a very handsome pot, and while she was admiring it I took it and played with it, and — baff-I threw it on a stone. She again began to storm a little, but I kissed her and said, "Never mind, Sophie, it's better for the pot to be broken than if I had come to harm, for I shall earn our bread all our lives." Well, lastly, I broke three teeth out of her comb, but then she only laughed, saying, "I wonder if you'll buy me a new one at the Teterow'sehen fair this fall." Well, I did that too, and so the thing has remained; she is satisfied with everything. But I must go in to my game.' "The smith went into the tavern, but at the end of half an hour the inn-keeper ran in, saying, 'Come out here, Wolf! Kiwitt the miller is standing outside in a pitiful plight.' "The smith went out, found his brother-in-law with a scratched face and a swollen eye, and, not a little startled, asked, Why, Kiwitt, what's the matter now?' "Yes, that's all very well to say,' replied the miller; this comes of your confounded stories.' "How so?' asked the smith. "Yes, ask once more,' said the miller. I remembered your nonsensical story, and thought what had served with one sister might serve with the other; at least |