"There is reason for that," said Habermann, throwing his arm over Brasig's shoulder, "my old friend has bad a touch of Podagra again."

"Yes, yes," laughed the rector, growing quite merry:

"Vinum the father, And c[oe]na the mother, And Venus the nurse, Produce the Podagra."

"The seed is beautiful!" cried Kurz, "you will find no better between Grimmen and Greifswald."

"Ho, ho, Kurz," said Habermann, "not go fast! I have a word to say----"

"Listen to me!" said Brasig, across to the rector. "Don't come near me with your French! I don't understand it. What did you say about Fenus?

What have I, and my cursed Podagra, to do with Fenus?"

"My honored friend and benefactor," said the rector, with unction, "Venus was, in antiquity, the G.o.ddess of love."

"It is all one to me," said Brasig, "she might be something very different, for all I care,--now-a-days, every stupid sheep-dog is called Fenus."

"No, Habermann," cried Kurz, again, "if the clover seed has the right l.u.s.tre, and looks so violet-blue, then----"

"Well, Kurz," said Habermann, "yours didn't look like that."

"My benefactor," said the rector again, to Brasig. "Venus was, as I have said, a G.o.ddess, and as a sheep-dog----"

"Eh, what?" said Brasig, "you must have imagined all that, about the G.o.ddess, Fenus means a sort of bird. Karl, don't you remember the stories we read, when we were children, about the bird Fenus?"

"Ah!" said the rector, as light dawned upon his mind, "you mean the bird Ph[oe]nix, which builds itself, in Arabia, a nest of costly spices----"

"That is an impossibility!" exclaimed Kurz. "How can the most skillful bird build a nest out of cloves, pepper-corns, cardamoms and nutmegs?"

"Dear brother-in-law, it is only a fable."

"Then the fable is a falsehood," said Brasig, "but I don't think you p.r.o.nounce the word rightly; it isn't Ph[oe]nix, it is Ponix, and they are not birds, they are little horses, and they don't come from Arabia, but from Sweden, and Oland, and I know them very well, for my gracious lady the countess had two Ponixes, which she used to drive for pleasure."

The rector wanted to set him right, but Kurz interrupted: "No, brother-in-law, let it go! We all know that you are better informed than Brasig, in such learned matters."

"No," said Brasig, "let him come on!" standing before the rector, as if he had no objections to a contest.

"No, no!" exclaimed Kurz. "We didn't come out here, to quarrel about Venuses and clover-seed; we came merely to have a pleasant game of Boston."

"We can have that," said Habermann, beginning to clear the table.

"Hold, Karl," said Brasig, "I don't like to see you doing that, that is the house-steward's business." And with that he roared across the court, "Triddelsitz!" and Fritz came running in. "Triddelsitz, we are going to play Boston, get the table ready, and a sheet of paper to set down the winnings, and fill the pipes, and make a handful of matches."

And when Fritz had made ready, they sat down, and prepared to begin.

They must first decide how high they would play. Kurz was for playing Boston grandissimo, for shilling points; but Kurz was always very venturesome; that was a little too high for the others, and Brasig declared that he wouldn't sit down to play, to get people's money out of their pockets. At last, through Habermann's interposition, they settled what the game should be, and were ready to begin.

"Who has diamonds?" asked the rector; "he deals."

"Kurz deals," said Brasig.

So now they could finally begin; but they did not begin, quite yet, for the rector laid his hand on the cards, and said, looking around the circle, "It is worthy of note! We are all pretty reasonable men, and we are going to play a game, namely the game of cards, which, according to authentic information, was invented for the entertainment of an insane king. King Charles of France----"

"Come, children," said Kurz, taking the cards out of the rector's, hand, "if we are going to play, let us play, if we are going to tell stories, we will tell stories."

"Go ahead!" cried Brasig, and Kurz dealt,--made a misdeal, however in his haste, so "Once more!" This time it was all right, and they began to look at their cards. "I pa.s.s," said Habermann, who had the lead.

Then it came to the rector; they had to wait for him a little, because he had not yet arranged his cards, for he had a superst.i.tion that the cards were better if he took them up, one by one, and because he improved all his opportunities with great conscientiousness he arranged all his cards in order of rank and turned the sevens and fives so that he could see the middle spot, and not mistake them for the sixes and the fours. Kurz, meanwhile, laid his cards on the table, folded his hands over them, looked at him and sighed. "I pa.s.s," said the rector.

"I knew you would," said Kurz, for he knew that his brother-in-law must examine his cards closely, before he would commit himself, and, on the other hand, he was afraid of his a.s.sisting, because usually he either had nothing, or if he had something, he played it the wrong time.

"Pa.s.s!" said Brasig, whose turn came next.

"Boston grandissimo!" said Kurz. "Who a.s.sists?"

"Pa.s.s!" said Habermann.

"Dear brother-in-law," said the rector, "I--one trick--two tricks--well I shall find a third--I a.s.sist."

"Well," said Kurz, "but we don't pay together. Each pays for himself."

"Come, Karl," said Brasig, "Out with it! We will break their fiddle in two."

"Well," said Kurz, "don't talk about it."

"G.o.d forbid," said Habermann, and led the ten of hearts: "Duke Michael fell upon the land."

"Come, Herr Oberforster," said the rector, playing the knave of hearts.

"Herze mich und kusse mich, und krunkle meine krause nich,"[5] said Brasig, playing the queen.

"That maid must have a man," said Kurz, playing the king, and, laying the trick aside, he led a low club (kreuz). "Kreuz Kringel und Zweibach!"[6]

"Bite, Peter, they are lentils!" cried Brasig to Habermann.

"Hold!" cried Kurz, "no telling!"

"G.o.d forbid!" said Habermann, and played also a low club.

"A fine singer is our s.e.xton," said the rector, playing the nine.

"A cross and strife, a wicked wife, the Lord hath sent upon me," said Brasig, and took the trick with the queen.

"Well," said Kurz, "that was a heavy cross, to be sure. What have you next?"

"Pay attention, Karl, now we begin our journey," said Brasig. "Herr,"

to Kurz, "I was whist. Here! Pikas was a pointer," and led the pik-as (ace of spades), and followed with the king,--"Long live the king!" and then the queen,--"Respect for the ladies!"

"Good heavens!" cried Kurz, laying down his cards, and looking at the rector, "what a hand! He can't have any more spades."