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The Lost Manuscript: A Novel

Chapter 95: CHAPTER XXXI.
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About This Book

A novel explores how intellectual inheritance and the persistence of ideas shape individual lives, following a scholar whose obsessive search for a lost manuscript distorts his life and sets off painful reckonings. Parallel strands follow a devout young woman whose religious and intellectual development unfolds amid university circles and country life, while comic portrayals of servants and small-town characters provide social contrast. The narrative examines how ancestral influences and errors continue to affect later generations, and shows moral consequences met by courage, honest labor, and psychological insight, interweaving academic, domestic, and moral scenes into a study of soul-life and continuity.







No one who has written a book has of himself become what he is; every one stands on the shoulders of his predecessor; all that was produced before his time has helped to form his life and soul. Again, what he has produced, has in some sort formed other men, and thus his soul has passed to later times. In this way the contents of books form one great soul-empire on earth, and all who now write, live and nourish themselves on the souls of the past generations. From this point of view the soul of mankind is an immeasurable unity, which comprises every one who ever thus lived and worked, as well as those who breathe and produce new works at present. The soul, which past generations felt as their own, has been and is daily transmigrating into others. What is written to-day may to-morrow become the possession of thousands of strangers. Those who have long ago ceased to exist in the body continue to live in new forms here on earthy and daily revive in thousands of others.

Gustav Freytag.





CONTENTS:


CHAPTER XXI.

The Butter Machine


CHAPTER XXII.

Three Councils


CHAPTER XXIII.

Philopena


CHAPTER XXIV.

Among the Students


CHAPTER XXV.

Chaos


CHAPTER XXVI.

The Drama


CHAPTER XXVII.

The Sovereign


CHAPTER XXVIII.

In the Pavilion


CHAPTER XXIX.

Two New Guests


CHAPTER XXX.

Vexations


CHAPTER XXXI.

Hummel's Triumph


CHAPTER XXXII.

A Chapter from Tacitus


CHAPTER XXXIII.

Cæsarean Insanity in the Hummel Family


CHAPTER XXXIV.

Old Acquaintances


CHAPTER XXXV.

In the Princess's Tower


CHAPTER XXXVI.

Ilse's Flight


CHAPTER XXXVII.

The Lord High Steward


CHAPTER XXXVIII.

The Magister's Exit


CHAPTER XXXIX.

Before the Crisis


CHAPTER XL.

On the Road to the Rock


CHAPTER XLI.

In the Cave


CHAPTER XLII.

Tobias Bachhuber










CHAPTER XXI.

THE BUTTER MACHINE

In the large hall of the University a select audience was assembled; state and municipal dignitaries, and men of learning, and students, were constantly streaming backwards and forwards through the doors of the great entrance. The wives of the Professors sat above in the gallery: Ilse was in the place of honor, in the middle of the front row, with Laura. This was a great day for Ilse, for the splendor of the highest academical dignity rested upon her husband's head. Felix Werner had been chosen Rector Magnificus, and was now about to enter upon his office.

The instructors of the University walked in a long procession into the hall; before them went the beadles in their antique dress of office, carrying great maces in their hands; the gentlemen themselves walked in the order of their several faculties. Theology began the procession, and Philosophy closed it; the latter, both from the number and importance of its members, was the strongest division; altogether they formed a stately company; by the side of some nonentities went men of the highest repute, of whom the country might well be proud; and it was a pleasure to every one to see so much learning assembled. These great minds, however, did not make a very dignified appearance in the procession: they kept their ranks badly; many looked as if they were thinking more of their books than of the impression made by their appearance on the public; one had come behind time--it was Raschke--he entered carelessly, running behind the tutors and nodding familiarly to his acquaintances. The procession was received by the Academical Choir with a Latin song, solemn, but unintelligible. The Professors ranged themselves on their seats; the ex-Rector mounted the platform, which was decorated with flowers; he first made a learned speech upon the benefits which medical science had long ago derived from the wandering tribes of Arabia, and then read a report of the academical events of the last year. The discourse was fine; the proceedings were imposing; the distinguished guests from the city and government sat immovable; the Professors listened attentively, the students rattled only a little at the door; and if at times from the high ceiling of the great hall the spirit of weariness waved its great bat-wings before the eyes of the audience, as is inevitable at academical ceremonies, Ilse to-day did not remark it. When the Rector had ended his discourse, with a graceful wave of his hand and some complimentary words, he invited his successor to join him on the platform. Felix did so. The Rector took off his cap and the golden chain and mantle, which looked like an old regal mantle, and put them all upon his successor, with warm wishes and expressions of esteem. Laura whispered to her neighbor: "If our Professor had a sword at his side he would look like one of the Electors in the pictures up there." Ilse assented joyfully; it was precisely what she thought. Now Werner came forward with his scarlet mantle and chain. The beadles crossed their maces on both sides of the chair, and the new Rector majestically began an address to the Professors and students, in which he begged for their good will and promised good government. Again the Academical Choir began a Latin song of triumph, and the procession of University instructors retired into the neighboring room, where the Professors surrounded their Rector, shaking hands with him, and the beadles packed the scarlet mantle and chain in a chest, to be preserved for future occasions. Ilse, too, received the congratulations of the ladies, who placed themselves on the gallery steps and greeted her gaily as "Magnifica."

As soon as she got home. Ilse threw her arms round her husband's neck, and told him how stately he looked in his grand attire. "What the gipsy said," she exclaimed, "has been fulfilled to-day: the man whom I love has worn a prince's dress; I greet you, my Prince and Lord."

It was on the afternoon of this great day that the visit of the Hereditary Prince was announced. Ilse once more looked into every corner of her bright dwelling, that she might experience no disgrace as mistress of the house, and made her husband instruct her as to the right form of speaking to an illustrious prince; "In order that I may know what to say if he addresses me. I am anxious, Felix, for it is a great thing to meet the future Sovereign of one's country."

As the clock struck, the carriage drove up. Gabriel, in his best coat, conducted the gentlemen to the Rector's room. Meanwhile Ilse walked up and down, burning with expectation. It was not long before her door was opened, and two gentlemen entered, introduced by her husband. The Prince was of a slight figure, medium height, black hair, with small face and features; over the delicate lips there was a dark line, which showed the beginning of a mustache; his carriage was awkward and embarrassed, and he gave one the impression of being a delicate and weak man. He seemed confused when he approached Ilse, and he told her, in so low a tone that she could scarcely make out his words, how much he rejoiced in meeting with a countrywoman.

His shy manner gave Ilse courage; she was touched by the countenance of her young Prince, and accosted him: "We in our country cling to our home, and as I now have the opportunity of making your Highness's acquaintance, I venture to say that I remember your Highness. You were quite a young gentleman, and I was only a half-grown girl when I first saw you in your father's capital. Your Highness was sitting on a very small horse; whilst my father and I made our obeisances, the horse stood still and would not go on. You looked kindly at me, just as you do now. I had a couple of roses in my hand, and, as you were our young Prince, I offered them to you. But you shook your head and could not take them, as you had to hold the bridle, and I believe you were a little timid about your horse: but the horse poked its head into the flowers. Then a tall man in uniform rode up and held the horse, and we retreated. You see I remember it all, for it was an important thing for a country girl to remember.--But will your Highness do me the honor to take a seat?"

The Prince's attendant, the Chamberlain von Weidegg, addressed Ilse courteously; he was a man of middle age, tall, of good address, and not bad looking; he took the lead in the conversation, and spoke pleasantly of the hills and woods of their common country; it was an agreeable interchange of words on every day subjects. The Prince was silent, played with his eyeglass, and looked cautiously and wonderingly at the stately wife of the Professor, who was sitting opposite him. At last the Chamberlain inquired at what hour Ilse received strangers, and expressed a wish that the Prince and he might be allowed occasionally to visit her. "On account of the few persons with whom my illustrious Prince can associate in this city, a house in which he may expect not to be treated as a stranger will be particularly acceptable to him." This was very pleasant and courteous, and when the Professor had accompanied the strangers to the entrance, he said to his wife, "They appear to be very amiable."

"I had imagined my Prince to be quite different, Felix, bold and haughty; but he has not even a star on his breast."

"It must have been in his pocket," said the Professor, consolingly.

"But he looks like a good youth," concluded Ilse, "and, as he is my countryman, he shall be well treated."

"That is right," replied the Professor, laughing.

In a short time the Hereditary Prince and his Chamberlain found out that this good treatment was very pleasant. The Chamberlain proved himself an agreeable man; he had travelled much, had experience of all sorts, had seen much, and read a good deal on various subjects; he collected autographs, had no vices and no bad habits. During a long sojourn in Rome he had been intimate with old acquaintances of the Professor, he had wandered through the ruins of Pompeii, and showed a warm interest in the details of old Roman houses. Besides this he understood how to listen and how to ask questions, and could, with decorum, tell doubtful anecdotes of people of note. His conversation was agreeable to the Professor, he was welcome at Ilse's tea-table, and liked by her guests. It seemed also to give him pleasure to converse with the learned men; he visited the Doctor and examined his old wood-cuts; he treated Professor Raschke with considerate politeness, and, with his Prince, accompanied the Philosopher on a fine winter evening to his distant dwelling, and during the walk Raschke imparted to them very interesting observations upon plants.

It cannot be said that the Hereditary Prince was much at home among the Professors; he listened with toleration to their conversation, as became an academical student, and said the right thing at the right time; but he showed by an impatient jerk of his lorgnette that he would much have preferred any other kind of entertainment.

Ilse was not pleased when he fidgeted with his glass, for she wished that he should conduct himself with dignity among other men, and she seemed to feel as if the gentlemen would reproach her because the Prince took no real interest in serious subjects. As mistress of the house, therefore, she was very attentive to him; she ventured to advise him not to drink his tea too strong, and prepared it for him herself. The Prince was pleased with this, and enjoyed sitting next to her or watching her perform her duties at the table as hostess. It was only with her that he ever lost his cautious reserve; he talked to her of the remarkable things he had seen in the town, and when he had nothing to say, he assisted her in her duties; he placed the cream jug before her, and always passed the sugar-bowl when he thought that Ilse wanted it.

One evening as the Prince was sitting silently by Ilse's side, and the gentlemen present were engaged in passing indignant judgment on the arbitrary management of the Vatican Library, Ilse proposed to him to look over a work that her husband had bought, containing good portraits of famous men of learning and artists. They went to examine it by a lamp in the next room, and the Prince looked at the portraits with languid interest. "Of many of them I only know," began Ilse, "what my husband has told me; I have not read their books, and of the beautiful things they have painted and composed, I know but little."

"That is just my case," replied the Prince, honestly, "it is only about the musicians that I know anything."

"Yet it is a pleasure to look at their portraits," continued Ilse; "one judges from them what the character and merits of these men may have been, and when one asks any person who knows more, one finds one's views sometimes confirmed and sometimes erroneous. That seems to make us like the men and become intimate with them, and we seek for opportunities of making acquaintance with their works of art and learning. I long to know more about them. But when one has read about a great man, and after a time sees his picture, then his face appears like that of a dear friend."

"Do you like to read?" asked the Prince, looking up.

"I am beginning to like it," replied Ilse; "but unlearned heads do not take in serious things at once, especially when they excite earnest thoughts."

"I do not like to read," replied the Prince; "at least in the way in which it is pressed upon me. It is tedious to me, for I have never learned anything thoroughly, and I know nothing well."

He said this with bitterness. Ilse was shocked at the confession. "Your Highness will find that that will change now,--you will have such excellent opportunities here."

"Yes," replied the Prince, "from morning till evening, and one thing after another. I am always glad when the lectures are over."

Ilse regarded the young Prince sympathizingly. "That is very unfortunate for your Highness. Is there nothing that you would care to know or possess? no collection of minerals or butterflies, or of rare books or engravings, like the Doctor over there has? In this way one can find enjoyment the whole year, and while collecting these valuable things one learns a great deal."

"If I wish to have anything of the kind I can have any quantity of them collected," replied the Prince; "but to what end? I have already so many things about me. If I were to express a wish to collect minerals, everybody about me would be in a state of excitement, and it would either be forbidden or I should have a whole collection brought into the house."

"That indeed is of no use," said Ilse, pityingly; "the only pleasure is in looking after each individual thing one's self; no man can know all, but everyone should have something which he understands thoroughly. If I may venture to compare my insignificant life with the important one that awaits your Highness, I should like to tell you my own experience. When my good mother was laid on her deathbed I was quite a young girl, but I wished to take her place in the household. I found, however, that I was quite at a loss what to do. I did not even know whether the people were industrious or lazy; I did not understand how to do anything, and if it was done badly I could not teach them better. One evening I sat discouraged and angry with myself, and I believe I wept. Then my good father said, 'You should not undertake so much at once, you should first learn some one thing accurately.' Then he took me into the dairy. Does your Highness know what that is."

"Not exactly," replied the Prince.

She then explained to him the whole day's work of the dairy. "This was the result: I took it in hand myself, learned the work thoroughly, and thus was able to judge the maids. I learned everything about the cows accurately, and which was the best kind for us, and why; for every species does not thrive everywhere. I soon became ambitious of making good butter and cheese. I obtained information from those who were skilled in it, and sometimes read a book about it. Then I conferred with my father about improvements, and just when I came away we were thinking of getting a new machine instead of our large wooden churn. It is now set up; it is said to be very good, and to make good butter; but I have not seen it. Does your Highness know anything about churning?"

"No," replied the Prince.

Ilse described the process to him as far as she could, and continued: "When my father made up his books at midsummer, it was my pride that the dairy produce should every year increase in amount; but I was provoked that my father laughed at my small profits; he valued the cows for other reasons." Ilse gave a slight explanation on this point, and then continued: "From this time, your Highness, I felt quite at home in the world. Now, if I go to a factory, I find myself looking upon it as another kind of dairy, and when state revenues and government expenditure are talked of, I compare them with our house and farming accounts. But it is very silly in me to talk to your Highness about butter and cheese."

The Prince looked frankly into her eyes. "Ah kind lady," he said, "yours has been a happy life; I have never been so fortunate as to be able to enjoy quietly what I like. From morning to evening I have been in leading-strings, and passed on from one person to another. When, as a child, I went into the garden, the governess or tutor was always there, and when I ran or jumped about on the grass, I was to do it in a becoming manner; once, when I wished to turn a somersault, like other boys, it excited the utmost dismay, on account of its indecorum. Every moment it was said, 'that was not befitting a Prince,' or, 'this is not the proper time.' When I came out of my room I was stared at by strangers, and had always to take notice of them and bow to them; I was told with whom I was or was not to shake hands, and who I was or was not to accost. Every day passed thus. One was always to use empty forms of speech in three languages, and every day the uppermost thought was, whether one had conducted one's self well. Once I and my sister wished to lay out a little garden; immediately the head gardener was called to dig and plant for us, thus all our pleasure was spoilt. Then we wished to act a little play, and had thought of a nice piece; again we were told that it was foolish trash, and that we must learn a play by heart, with French modes of speech, in which the children always exclaimed how dearly they loved papa and mamma, whilst we had no mother. In this training for mere show my childhood passed. I assure you I know nothing thoroughly, and though I remain here at study forever, I feel that it can do me no good, and I shall enter the world a very useless being."

"Ah, that is sad," exclaimed Ilse, with deep sympathy; "but I entreat of your Highness not to lose courage. It is impossible that the life here, among so many men of the highest capacity and worth, should not be beneficial to you."

The Prince shook his head.

"Think what a future lies before your Highness," continued Ilse. "Ah, you have every reason to be brave and confident. Your office is the highest on earth. We others work, and are happy if we can only preserve one human being from evil; but you will have the welfare and lives of thousands in your power. What you do for schools and learning through the selection of good or bad teachers, and your decisions as to peace or war, may ruin or make the whole country happy. When I think of this exalted vocation, I feel a deep respect for you, and I would implore you on my knees to do your utmost to make yourself a worthy prince. Therefore, the best advice for you is, that you should be willing to learn even what is wearisome to you. For the rest, have confidence in the future: you will yet have pleasure in life, and a feeling of worth and capacity."

The Prince was silent; for every allusion to his future position as Sovereign was forbidden at Court, and even less than others was the heir to the throne allowed to indulge in such a thought or cherish such a hope.

"I hear lectures enough," said the Prince, at last; "but I wish that I might have been brought up by a country gentleman, as you have been."

They returned to the gentlemen, and the Prince paid much attention to their conversation during the rest of the evening. When he went away, Ilse said to her husband: "There is one who has what would make thousands happy, yet he is unhappy, for they have bound up his honest heart in leather like an automaton. Oh, be kind to him, Felix; open your soul to him, that he may gain some of your confidence and power."

Her husband kissed her, and said, "That will be easier for you to do than for me. But he has himself suggested the right thing; three years with your father would be the best training for him and his country."

At breakfast the following morning the Chamberlain took the newspapers from the hand of the lackey; the Prince was sitting silently at table, playing with a tea-spoon, and watching a fly which was disrespectfully trying to make its way from the edge of the cream-jug into the princely cream. As the written instructions imposed upon the Chamberlain the duty of guarding the Prince from all dangerous reading--by that was meant all discontented newspapers and improper novels--he thought it best to give him the inoffensive "Daily Gazette," whilst he himself took up a loyal paper, in order to examine the court news and accounts of promotions and the bestowal of decorations. He had long finished his reading, but the Prince was still engaged with his shellfish and oysters. The Chamberlain observed with regret how little interest his young Highness took in the course of the world. An acquaintance of the Chamberlain had been promoted to be master of the horse, another announced his betrothal, and he did not fail to draw the attention of the Prince to this news; but the latter only smiled in his absent-minded way.

The Chamberlain then entered upon his next duty: he reflected upon the programme of the day. As it was incumbent upon him to make the Prince acquainted with the novelties in art and literature in the city, he waited impatiently till the Prince had done with the "Daily Gazette," in order to obtain information from it on these points. At last the Prince interrupted his cogitations by saying to him, "Mention is made here of a permanent exhibition of agricultural implements; what is there to see in such exhibitions?"

The Chamberlain tried to explain, and was delighted to make a proposal to visit this exhibition. The Prince expressed his assent by a slight nod, looked at his watch, and went up to his room to go through his three hours' morning course: one for the science of politics, one for mythology and æsthetics, and one for tactics and strategy; then he accompanied his attendant to the exhibition.

Even the Chamberlain was bored as he followed his young master through the great rooms, in which stood countless inexplicable machines. The agent of the manufacturers began his explanations; the Chamberlain asked such questions as would show a fitting love of knowledge; the Prince went patiently from one unintelligible object to another, and heard something of plows, scarifiers and rollers. At last, at the great threshing-machine, the expounder had to call a workman to bring a step-ladder, by ascending which they would be enabled to admire the internal mechanism. The Prince left this labor to the Chamberlain; played meanwhile with his lorgnette, and asked the agent, in the low tone in which he was wont to speak:

"Have you any butter-machines?"

"Yes," was the reply, "several different kinds."

The Prince then quietly turned his attention to the great threshing-machine, and learnt to value the beautiful arrangement by which it threw out the straw into an invisible hayloft. At last they came to the row of machines on which he had set his heart--the modern successors of the old time-honored churn. There they stood beside each other--the little hand-chum, by which, if the assertion of the guide was to be trusted, a housewife could make her butter in an incredibly short time; and the great machine, which could work sufficient to supply the needs of the largest dairy. It was described to the Prince how the cream, when poured in, was put in quick circular motion, and how, as a result of this, the butter was separated from the milk. He had already heard this much more agreeably told; but it gave him pleasure to see the advantages of the modern invention, and he became thoroughly convinced of its superiority. To the astonishment of his attendant he asked intelligent questions, and took hold of the crooked handle, endeavoring to turn it a little, but withdrew his hand with an embarrassed smile. At last he inquired about the price. The Chamberlain had rejoiced at the laudable desire of knowledge which his young master had shown, but was much humiliated when the Prince turned to him and said, in French, "What do you think? I have a mind to buy this little machine." "For the sake of turning the handle," thought the Chamberlain, with an inward shrug of the shoulders.

"How is it that your Highness takes an especial interest in this?"

"It pleases me," replied the Prince, "and one ought to buy something of the man."

The pretty machine was bought, carried to the Prince's apartments, and placed in his study. Towards evening, whilst the Prince was taking his music lessons, the machine had to appear in the report which the Chamberlain prepared for the reigning Prince. The writer extolled the interest which his Prince had shown in the useful implements of German agriculture. But seldom had it been so difficult to the poor Chamberlain to perform the duty of a true courtier, whom it behooves to suppress his own personal feelings and to gloss over agreeably what is annoying; for, in truth, he felt deep humiliation at the silly trifling of his Prince. But at Court one does not thoroughly learn all the intricacies of a princely mind, however much one may study them. Even to the wisest chamberlain there remain certain inscrutable depths.

The Hereditary Prince covered the butter-machine with a silk cloth, and when he was alone, approached it carefully, turned the handle, and examined the mechanism.

Some days after, when the valet had undressed the Prince, placed his slippers for him, and made his bow for the night, the Prince, contrary to custom, remained sitting in his chair, and stopped the departure of the servant by thus accosting him: "Krüger, you must do me a favor."

"What are your Highness's commands?"

"Obtain for me to-morrow morning early, without any one seeing you, a large jug of milk; but do not put the milk in the account."

"Does your Highness wish it boiled or not boiled?"

This was a difficult question. The Prince twirled his moustache silently and looked helplessly at Krüger.

"I hardly know," he began at last. "I should like to try churning a little."

Krüger was sharp enough to understand that this wish was connected with the new machine, and, long accustomed not to be astonished at anything in people of rank, he replied: "Then the machine must first be scalded, otherwise the butter will taste bad; and, besides, I must order the cream; so your Highness must wait patiently for a day."

"I leave everything to you," said the Prince, well pleased; "take the machine, and be careful that no one hears anything about it."

When Krüger, two days after, entered the Prince's room, early in the morning, he found his young master already dressed. Proud of his confidential position, he informed him, "The Chamberlain is still asleep, and all is ready."

The Prince hastened on tip-toes into the room. A large can of cream was poured into the machine; full of expectation, the Prince seated himself by the table and said; "I will turn it myself." He began to turn while Krüger looked on.

"But it must be done with regularity, your Highness," admonished Krüger.

The Prince could not resist opening the cover and looking in. "It will not come, Krüger," he said, despondingly.

"Cheer up, your Highness," said Krüger, "and graciously permit me to go on with the turning."

After that Krüger turned while the Prince looked on.

"It comes," cried the Prince, delighted, as he looked in.

"Yes, it's made," replied Krüger. "But now comes other work. The butter must be taken out and washed, if it please your Highness?"

"No," said the Prince, doubtfully, "that will never do. But the machine is good; bring me a spoon and some white bread, I will fish out what I can; one must learn to help one's self."

The Prince plunged his spoon into the mess, took out some of the half-made butter, and spread it on his white bread with a feeling of satisfaction that was quite new to him. "It tastes a little sour, Krüger," he said.

"Of course," replied Krüger; "the butter-milk is still in it."

"It does not matter," said the Prince, consoling himself. "Krüger, I did not think there was so much to be attended to in churning."

"Yes, all things are difficult in the beginning," replied Krüger, cheerfully.

"It is all right," concluded the Prince, graciously; "take the machine out, and clean it properly."

After that the churn stood peacefully under the silk cloth; the Prince in his lonely hours, would sometimes stand before it, and revolve in his mind how he could deliver it into the hands of the person for whom he had secretly intended it.

The stars themselves appeared to favor him; for the revolving earth had rolled into the last sign of the zodiac, which guides the souls of our people with magic power to the most charming festival of the year. Christmas was near, and the ladies of the street near the Park moved about in secret activity. Intercourse with intimate acquaintances was interrupted, books that had been begun were laid aside, theatres and concert-rooms were empty; the tones of the piano-forte and of new bravuras rarely sounded to the rattling of carriage-wheels in the street; inward struggles were hushed, and bad neighbors little thought of. From morning to evening, little fingers were occupied with beads, wools, silk, paint-brush and palette; the day lengthened into eight-and-forty hours; even during the minutes of unquiet morning slumber, obliging crickets and other invisible spirits worked in the pay of the ladies. The nearer the festival approached, the more numerous were the secrets: in every closet were concealed things which no one was to see; from all sides, packages were brought into the house, that were forbidden to be touched. But whilst the other inmates of the house secretly slipped past one another, the lady of the house was the quiet ruler in the invisible realm of presents, and the confidant and clever adviser of all. She was never weary; she thought and arranged for every one; the world had become to her like a great cupboard with numerous compartments, from which she was incessantly fetching things, and in which she was always cautiously stowing covered packages. When on Christmas Eve the spangled stars shine, the wax-lights drip, and the golden balls glimmer and glisten on the Christmas tree, it is then that the fancies of the children celebrate their great day; but the poetic vision of the housewife and her daughters, for months before, have filled the room with joyful splendor.

If one may regard the judgment of Mr. Hummel as valid, it is rarely that the enthusiasm of Christmas week is fully developed in the men who have the honor of being the representatives of the family. "Believe me, Gabriel," said Mr. Hummel, one December evening, as he was watching some children who were passing by with toys, "at this time man loses his importance; he is nothing but a money-chest, in which the key is turning from morning till evening; the best wives become barefaced and foolish, all family confidence vanishes, everybody avoids everybody else, the order of the house is disturbed, one's night's rest is unscrupulously destroyed; when it is meal time, one's wife runs to the market, and when the lamps ought to be extinguished, one's daughter begins a new piece of embroidery. When at last the long bother is over, then one must be delighted at a pair of new slippers which are an inch too short, and for which later on one has to pay a long shoemaker's bill, and to be pleased with a cigar case of beads, which is flat and hard, like a dried flounder. Finally, after one has shot out golden sparks like a rocket, the ladies expect one to show one's good feeling by making them a present. Now, I have trained mine differently."

"But I have seen you yourself," rejoined Gabriel, "With a package and bandbox under your arm."

"That is true," replied Mr. Hummel, "a bandbox is inevitable. But, Gabriel, I have given up all worry, for that was the most humiliating part of the affair. I go every year to the same milliner now, and say, 'a hood for Madame Hummel;' and the person says, 'You shall be served, Mr. Hummel;' and she places the structure ready made before me. Besides this, I go every year to the same shop and say, 'I want a dress for my daughter Laura, at such and such a price, more or less,' and a dress well worth its value is placed before me. In confidence I must tell you I have a suspicion that the women have seen through my trick, and select the things themselves beforehand, for now they are always very much to their taste, whilst in former years they were often objected to. They have the trouble now of selecting the finery, and in the evening they practice all sorts of dissembling artifices, unfold and examine the goods, pretend to be astonished, and praise my excellent taste. This is my only satisfaction in the whole childish amusement. But it is a poor one, Gabriel."

Such was the discordant strain in which the master of the house indulged; but the dwellers in Park Street cared little for it, and like opinions will always be regarded with like indifference. So much sweeter is it to care for others than for one's self, and so much happier to give pleasure than to receive it.

For Ilse also the festival this year was to be a great event; she collected like a bee, and not only for the dear ones at home; in the city also she had nestled many great and little children in her heart, from the five young Raschke's down to the little barefooted creatures with the soup-pot. The sofa-corners assumed a mysterious appearance whenever her husband, or Laura, or the Doctor entered unexpectedly.

When the Chamberlain, some time before the holidays, deemed it becoming for his Prince to pay a visit to the new Rector, the gentlemen found Ilse and Laura busily at work, and the parlor of the Rector's wife was changed into a great market stall. On a long table stood little Christmas trees, and full sacks were leaning against the legs of the table; the ladies were working with yard-measures and scissors, dividing great hanks of wool, and unrolling pieces of linen, like shop-keepers. When Ilse met the gentlemen and made excuses for the state of her room, the Chamberlain entreated her not to disturb herself. "We will remain here only if we are allowed to make ourselves useful." The Prince also said, "I beg permission to help, if you have anything for me to do."

"That is very kind," replied Ilse, "there is still much to be done before evening. Permit me, your Highness, to give you your work. Pray take the bag of nuts; and you, my Lord Chamberlain, have the goodness to take the apples in charge; you, Felix, will have the gingerbread. I beg the gentlemen to make little heaps, to each twenty nuts, six apples, and a package of gingerbread."

The gentlemen went zealously to work. The Prince counted the nuts conscientiously, and was provoked that they would always roll together again, but discovered that he could keep the portions apart by means of strips of paper folded together. The gentlemen laughed, and related how once, in a foreign country, they had introduced this German Christmas amusement. The perfume of the apples and of the fir-trees filled the room, and gave a festive feeling to the souls of all present.

"May we ask the kind lady who are to benefit by our exertions?" said the Chamberlain; "I hold here an uncommonly large apple, which I hope may fall to the lot of one of your favorites. At all events, we are doing what will give the poor children pleasure."

"Finally it will," replied Ilse; "but that is not all; we shall give this to their mothers, for the greatest pleasure of a mother is to give presents herself to her children, to adorn the Christmas tree and to work what the little ones need. This pleasure we shall not deprive them of, and therefore we send them the stuff unmade. The Christmas trees, too, they prefer buying themselves, each according to their tastes; those you see here are only for children who have no mothers. These trees will be adorned by us. Everything for the festive evening will be carried out of the house today, so that the people may receive them in good time, and arrange them for themselves."

The Prince looked at the Chamberlain. "Will you allow us," he began, hesitatingly, "to contribute something towards these presents."

"Very willingly," replied Ilse, joyfully. "If your Highness wishes it, our servant can look after it immediately. He understands it, and is trustworthy."

"I should like to go with him myself," said the Prince. The Chamberlain listened with astonishment to this idea of his young master; but, as it was laudable and not against instructions, he only smiled respectfully. Gabriel was called. The Prince, much pleased, took his hat. "What shall we buy?" he asked eagerly.

"We want some little tapers," replied Ilse, "besides some playthings;--for the boys, leaden soldiers; and for the girls, little kitchen things; but all must be strong and cheap." Gabriel followed the Prince out of the house with a large basket.

"You heard what the lady ordered," said the Prince, in the street, to Gabriel. "First the wax-tapers; you do the selecting and I will pay. We are to buy them cheap; see that we are not cheated."

"We need not fear that, your Highness," replied Gabriel; "and if we should pay a few pennies too much, other children will benefit by it."

At the end of an hour the Prince returned. Gabriel had a heavily-laden basket, while the Prince also carried under his arms bundles of toys and large paper bags full of sweetmeats. When the young gentleman entered thus loaded, with color in his cheeks and as happy as a child, he looked so good and pleasing that all were delighted with him. He unpacked his treasures before the Professor's wife, and emptied the contents of the paper bags on the table.

His embarrassment had disappeared: he played with childish pleasure with the pretty things, showed the others the artistic work in the marchpane plums, begged of Laura to keep a candy knight-templar for herself, and moved about and arranged everything so gracefully and actively on the table that all looked at him with admiration and joined in his childish jokes. When the ladies began to adorn the Christmas trees, the Prince declared he would help them. He placed himself before the saucer with white of egg, and was shown the way to lay it upon the fruits and then roll them in gold and silver foil. Ilse arranged as a prize for the gentleman who worked best and did most, a large gingerbread lady with a hooped petticoat and glass eyes; and a praiseworthy contest arose among the gentlemen to produce the best things. The Professor and the Chamberlain knew how to employ their old skill; but the Prince as a novice worked somewhat carelessly--there remained some bare spots, and in others the gold foil bulged out. He was discontented with himself, but Ilse cheered him, saying, "But your Highness must be more sparing with the gold, otherwise we shall not have enough." Finally, the Chamberlain obtained the lady in the hooped dress, and the Prince, as an extra reward for his activity, a babe in swaddling-clothes which looked on the world with two glassy bead eyes.

Out of doors in the Christmas market, little children were standing round the fir-trees and Christmas shops, looking hopefully and longingly at the treasures there. And in Ilse's room the great children were sitting at the table, playful and happy. Here there were no cautious admonitions, and the Prince painted the outlines of a face with the white of egg on the palm of his hand, and gilded it with a gold-foil.

When the Hereditary Prince rose to go, the Professor asked, "May I venture to inquire where your Highness intends to pass Christmas Eve?"

"We remain here," answered the Prince.

"As some remarkable musical performances are in prospect," added the Chamberlain, "his princely Highness has denied himself the pleasure of having the Prince with him at this festival; we are, therefore, to pass a quiet Christmas here."

"We do not venture to invite you," continued the Professor; "but in case your Highness should not pass this evening in other society, it will be a great pleasure if you would do so with us."

Ilse looked thankfully at her husband, and the Prince this time did not leave it to the Chamberlain to answer, but eagerly accepted the invitation. As he walked with his attendant through the crowded streets, he began, cautiously, "But we must contribute something to the Christmas table."

"I had just thought of that," replied the Chamberlain; "but if your Highness honors those worthy people with your company that evening, I am not sure how your Highness's father will approve of a contribution to the Christmas tree from my gracious Prince."

"I do not wish it to be any of those eternal brooches and ear-rings from the court jeweler's cases," cried the Prince, with unwonted energy; "it should be some trifle; best of all, something as a joke."

"That is my view," assented the Chamberlain; "but it is advisable to leave the decision to his Grace, your father."

"Then I had rather remain at home," replied the Prince, bitterly. "I will not enter with some stupid present in my hand. Can it not be managed that the visit be without any ceremony, just as the invitation was?"

The Chamberlain shrugged his shoulders. "A few days afterwards the whole city will know that your Highness has shown Professor Werner this unusual honor. Without doubt the occurrence will be reported to the palace by persons who have no business to do so. Your Highness knows better than I do how your father will receive such an account, coming to him first from a stranger."

The Prince's pleasure was spoilt. "Write, then, to my father," he cried, angrily; "but represent the invitation just as it was given, and express yourself as opposed to any conventional present from the court: it would only wound this family."

The Chamberlain rejoiced in the tact of his young master, and promised to write the letter as he desired. This appeased the Prince, and after a time he began: "It has just occurred to me, Weidegg, what we should give. As the Professor's wife comes from the country, I will present her with the machine which I lately bought, as a case for pretty bonbons or something of that kind, that I will put in it."

"Now he wishes to get rid of the useless plaything," thought the Chamberlain. "That is impossible," he replied, aloud: "Your Highness is not quite sure whether the lady would take the joke as it is intended. It would not do to give a present which might give rise to misinterpretation. Your Highness should on no account venture upon such a thing. Even if the amiable lady herself did not object, it would be much discussed in her circle. Your Highness's joke might be easily considered as an ironical allusion to country manners, which undoubtedly become the lady well, but might here and there occasion a slight smile."

The Prince's heart froze within him; he was furious with the Chamberlain, and, on the other hand, shocked at the thought of wounding Ilse. The poetry of the festival was entirely spoilt for him. He went silently to his apartment.

The answer to the Chamberlain's letter was to the effect that the Prince, in spite of the apparent unsuitability, would not object to an incidental visit, and that, if some mark of attention was unavoidable, it might be procured from a gardener or confectioner. The Chamberlain, therefore, bought a quantity of flowers and sweetmeats, and laid them before the Prince. But he looked cold and silently on the gay bright colors. Towards evening two lackeys carried the things to the Rector with a little note from the Chamberlain, in which, in the name of his Most Serene Prince, he begged the accompanying gift might be applied to the ornamenting of the Christmas tree. Meanwhile the Prince stood gloomily before his butter-machine, and quarrelled bitterly with his princely dignity.

When at the proper hour he entered Werner's apartment, the Christmas gifts had been distributed and the candles extinguished. Ilse had done it purposely. "It is not necessary to let these strangers see what delight we take in these presents." The Prince received Ilse's thanks for the splendid adornment of her table with reserve, and sat before the tea-kettle silent and absent-minded. Ilse thought, "He is sorry that he has had no glad Christmas Eve: the poorest child is merry with his Christmas tree, and he sits as if shut out from the pleasures of this happy time." She made a sign to Laura, and said to the Prince: "Would your Highness like to see our Christmas tree? The lights had to be extinguished lest they should burn down, but if your Highness likes we will light it up again in all its splendor, and it would be very kind of your Highness to help us."

This was a welcome proposal to the Prince, and he went with the ladies into the festive room. There he offered to take the staff, at the end of which a wax-taper was fastened, in order to reach the highest lights of the mighty tree. Whilst he was thus busily working at the tree his heart became lighter, and he looked with interest at the presents which were lying under the tree.

"Now will your Highness have the kindness to go out of the room," said Ilse, "and when I ring it will signify to you and Mr. von Weidegg that your Highness is wanted."

The Prince hastened out; the bell rang. When the gentlemen entered they found two small tables laid out; on them small lighted trees, and under each a large dish of pastry, made after the fashion of their own country. "This is to be a remembrance of our home," said Ilse, "and on the trees are the apples and nuts which you have gilded: those with the red spots are your Highness's work. Here is a respectful gift sent from the farm of my dear father. I beg the gentlemen to eat this smoked goose's breast with a good appetite; we are not a little proud of this dish. But here, my gracious Prince, there is, as a keepsake from me, a small model of our churn; for this is at what I served my apprenticeship as a child." On the Prince's seat stood this useful instrument, made of march-pane. "On the bottom of it, your Highness, I have written my motto of long ago. May the gentlemen accept my good intentions!"

She said this so joyously, and offered her hand to the Chamberlain so kindly, that all thoughts of his dignity were forgotten, and he shook her hand right honestly. The Prince stood before his machine, and thought: "Now is the moment, or never." He read below the simple words, "If a person has devoted himself with honest perseverance to some one thing, it will be a blessing to him throughout his whole life." Then, without any thought of the threatening consequences of his daring, he said: "May I propose an exchange to you? I have bought a small churn; it has a large wheel and a small one for turning, and one can churn as much as one wants each morning. It would be a great pleasure to me if you would accept this."

Ilse thanked him with a bow; and the Prince requested that a servant might at once be sent to his apartment for it. Whilst the Chamberlain was still reflecting with amazement on the strange coincidence, the piece of mechanism was brought into the room. The Prince placed it with his own hands upon a corner of the table, explained the internal arrangements to the company, and was much delighted when Ilse said she had confidence in the invention. He was again the joyous child of the other day, gaily drank his glass of wine, and, with charming grace, proposed the health of the master and mistress of the house, so that the Chamberlain scarcely knew his Telemachus again. On taking leave, he himself packed up the marchpane, and carried it home in his pocket.