e therefore stopt short, looking around for
encouragement; but, finding none, he threw himself back in his chair,
with a scowl of contempt on his features.

"I know that song well," said the pedlar; "and shame be to him who
would offend the ears of honest men with it. With your permission," he
added, addressing the company, "I'll give you one I think more to your
taste." Encouraged by the rest of the burghers, excepting the thin man,
who squinted at him with scorn, he began:

Mourn, Wuertemberg! thy fallen state,
Thy drooping pride, thy luckless fate!
A Quack, whom even dogs despise,
Presumes to make thy fortunes rise.

Noisy applause and laughter, mingled with the hisses of the thin man,
interrupted the singer. The burghers reached across the table, shook
the pedlar by the hand, praised his song, and begged him to proceed.
The raw bone man said not a word, but looked furiously at the company.
He knew not whether to envy the applause which the songster received,
or to feel offended at the subject of his song. The fat man put on an
air of greater wisdom than usual, and joined in approbation with the
rest. The leather-backed pedlar was going on, encouraged by his
audience:

Of Nurenberg he, a knife-grinder by trade;
His friend was a weaver, a man of low grade--

when the thin man, upon hearing these words, and not able to contain
his indignation, flew into a violent rage, and vociferated: "May the
cuckoo stick in your throat, you ragged dog! I know very well who you
mean by the weaver,--my best friend, Herr von Fugger. That such a
vagabond as you should calumniate him!" expressing his anger by a
frightful distortion of his countenance.

But his opponent was in no wise to be daunted, and held his muscular
fist before him, saying, "Vagabond yourself, Mr. Calmus, I know who you
are; and if you don't keep silence, I'll twist those pot-ladle arms of
yours off your half-starved body."

The crest-fallen guest rose immediately, and pronounced his regret to
have fallen into such low company; he paid for his wine, and walked out
of the room with the strut of a man of quality.

FOOTNOTE TO CHAPTER XVI.:

[Footnote 1: The appearance of these Greeks at the siege of Tuebingen was
an extraordinary event; they were called Stratiots, and were commanded
by George Samares, from Corona, in Albania. He was buried in the
collegiate church of Tuebingen. Crusius