icks for
its erection had long been dead and buried.

The second brother knew better how to build a wall, for he had served
an apprenticeship to it. When he had served his time and passed his
examination he packed his knapsack and sang the journeyman's song:

"While I am young I'll wander, from place to place I'll roam,
And everywhere build houses, until I come back home;
And youth will give me courage, and my true love won't forget:
Hurrah then for a workman's life! I'll be a master yet!"

And he carried his idea into effect. When he had come home and become
a master, he built one house after another in the town. He built a
whole street; and when the street was finished and became an ornament
to the place, the houses built a house for him in return, that was to
be his own. But how can houses build a house? If you ask them they
will not answer you, but people will understand what is meant by the
expression, and say, 'certainly, it was the street that built his
house for him.' It was little, and the floor was covered with clay;
but when he danced with his bride upon this clay floor, it seemed to
become polished oak; and from every stone in the wall sprang forth a
flower, and the room was gay, as if with the costliest paper-hanger's
work. It was a pretty house, and in it lived a happy pair. The flag of
the guild fluttered before the house, and the journeymen and
apprentices shouted hurrah! Yes, he certainly was _something_! And at
last he died; and _that_ was something too.

Now came the architect, the third brother, who had been at first a
carpenter's apprentice, had worn a cap, and served as an errand boy,
but had afterwards gone to the academy, and risen to become an
architect, and to be called "honoured sir." Yes, if the houses of the
street had built a house for the brother who had become a bricklayer,
the street now received its name from the architect, and the
handsomest house in it became his property. _That_ was something, and
_he_ was something; and he had a long title before and after his name.
His children were called _genteel_ children, and when he died his
widow was "a widow of rank," and _that_ is something!--and his name
always remained at the corner of the street, and lived on in the
mouth of every one as the street's name--and _that_ was something!

Now came the genius of the family, the fourth brother, who wanted to
invent something new and original, and an additional storey on the