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song which she sings every evening. What did she do, Karl? She turned her back upon me! I now busied myself with my own thoughts, but the water-doctor came up to me, and said courteously:

"Don't be angry with me, Mr. Bailiff, but you've made yourself very conspicuous this afternoon.'

"How?' I asked.

"Fräulein von Hinke fuss was crossing the passage when you ran out of your room, and she has told every one else in strict confidence.'

me.

"And so,' I said, 'you give me no sympathy, the gentlemen laugh at me, and the ladies turn their pretty backs upon No, I didn't come here for that! If Fräulein von Hinkefuss had met me, if half a bushel of bee-stings had been planted in her body, I should have asked her every morning, with the utmost propriety, how she was. But let her alone! There is no market where people can buy kindheartedness! Come away, doctor, and pull the stings out of my body.'

"He said he couldn't do it.

"What!' I asked, 'can't you pull bee-stings out of a man's skin?'

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“No,' he said; 'that is to say, I can do it, but I dare not, for that is an operation such as surgeons perform, and I have no diploma for surgery from the Mecklenburg government.' "What?' I asked, 'you are allowed to draw gout out of my bones, but it is illegal for you to draw a bee-sting out of my skin? You dare not meddle with the outer skin, which you can see, and yet you presume to attack my internal maladies, which you can't see? Thank you!'

"Well, Karl, from that moment I lost all faith in the water-doctor, and without faith they can do nothing, as they

themselves tell you when it comes to the point.

So I went

away quietly and got to draw out the stings. Still, it's a good thing. One gets new ideas in a place like that, and even if one's gout is not cured, one gains some notion of what a human being can suffer. And now, Karl, this is a water-book I have brought you; you can read it in the winter evenings."-" My Farming Days."

old Metz, the surgeon at Rahnstädt,

That was the end of the water-cure.

Gustav Freytag

Preparing for Publication

BOLZ, Editor; MÜLLER, BELLMAUS, and KÄMPE, Assistants.

Bolz. Well, Müller, what about the proofs for the evening edition? Have I seen them all?

Mül. Not quite-all except this (handing proof), for the "Miscellaneous" column.

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Bolz. Let's see it. (Reads.) Garments Stolen from Clothes-Line." "Birth of Triplets." "Birth of Triplets." "Concert." Concert." "Lodge Meeting." 'Theatrical Performance "— quite so, quite so!" Invention of a New Locomotive.” "The Great Sea-Serpent"- Confound him, dishing up that old sea-serpent of his again! I'd like to see the beast served up as a jelly, and himself obliged to eat it cold!-Bellmaus, you fiend, what's the meaning of this?

Bell. Why, what's the matter? What are you so excited about?

Bolz (very solemnly). Ah, Bellmaus, when we conferred the honor upon you of entrusting you with the manufacture of bric-a-brac for this newspaper, our intention was not that the great serpent should wind itself everlastingly through our columns. By the way, how the deuce did you come to stick that old yarn in again?

Bell. Oh, it just happened to fill up six lines that were wanting.

Bolz. An excuse, to be sure, but not the best. You must invent your own stories, my dear chap. What are you a

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journalist for? Make up some "Voluntary Contribution," such as "General Considerations upon Human Existence," or "Dogs on the Public Highways." As an alternative, you might select a blood-curdling tale, perhaps "Murder in the First Degree from Sheer Politeness," or else, Six Sleeping Children Slain by a Stoat," or something of the kind. There are so many things which happen all the time, and so many more which don't, that the most conscientious journalist need never be at a loss for news.

Bell. All right! Give me the proof; I'll change it at once. (Goes to table, cuts out piece from a newspaper, and

pastes it on proof.)

Bolz. That's the way, my boy! I'm glad to see you are improving.

Käm. What do you want me to supply for to-morrow? Bolz. Hanged if I know! I might possibly induce some one to write the leading article. However, you had better be ready with something, in case of an emergency.

Käm. Very well; but what?

Bolz. Oh, you can write about emigration to Australia. That subject won't call forth disapproval from anybody.

Käm. Agreed! And am I to speak for, or against, emigration to Australia?

Bolz (enthusiastically). Against-by all means, against! All willing hands we want in our own country. Describe Australia as a terrible place; paint it in its true colors, you know, but as black as possible. Say how the kangaroo, rolling itself up into a ball, flies at the colonist's head with irresistible ferocity, while the duckbill tweaks at his calves from behind; how the gold-digger is compelled to stand up to his neck in salt water all through the winter, while he never gets a drop to drink for three months in the summer;

how the emigrant, if he survives these horrors, at last is eaten up by the thievish natives. Make it all very graphic, and at the end give the latest quotations of Australian wool from the Times. You'll find the necessary books in the library." The Journalists."

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