g on the table, "Sacre tonnerre! what's all this?"

"The dessert--if you can eat it," said the host, with a deep sigh.

"Eat it!--no--how the devil should I?"

"I thought not," responded the other, submissively, "I thought not, even
a shark will get gorged at last!"

"Eh, what's that you say?" replied the Quarter-master, roughly, "you
don't expect a man to dine on figs and walnuts, or dried prunes and
olives, do you?"

"Dine!" shouted the host, "and have you not dined?"

"No, mille bombes, that I haven't--as you shall soon see!"

"Aile Gute Geisten loben den Hernn!" said the host, blessing himself,
"An thou be'st the Satanus, I charge thee keep away!"

A shout of laughter from without, prevented the Quartermaster's reply to
this exorcism being heard; while the trumpet sounded suddenly for "boot
and saddle."

With a bottle of wine stuffed in each pocket, the Quartermaster rose
from table, and hurried away to join his companions, who had received
sudden orders to push forward towards Cassel, and as the bewildered host
stood at his window, while the regiment filed past, each officer
saluted him politely, as they cried out in turn, "Adieu, Monsieur!
my compliments to the braten"--"the turkey was delicious"--"the salmi
perfect"--"the capon glorious"--"the venison a chef-d'ouvre!" down to
the fat Quarter-master, who, as he raised a flask to his lips, and shook
his head reproachfully, said, "Ah! you old screw, nothing better than
nuts and raisins to give a hungry man for his dinner!" And so they
disappeared from the Platz, leaving mine host in a maze of doubt and
bewilderment, which it took many a day and night's meditation to solve
to his own conviction.

Though I cannot promise myself that my reader will enjoy this story as
much as I did, I could almost vouch for his doing so, if he heard
it from the host of the "Reuten Krantz" himself, told with the staid
gravity of German manner, and all the impressive seriousness of one who
saw in the whole adventure, nothing ludicrous whatever, but only a most
unfair trick, that deserved the stocks, or the pillory.

He was indeed a character in his way, his whole life had only room for
three or four incidents, about, and around which, his thoughts revolved,
as on an axis, and whose impression was too vivid to admit of any
occurrence usurping their place. When a boy, he had been in the habit of
acting as guide to the "Wartburg" to his father's guests--for they were
a generati