at is to say, when
remittances came from home. The night following remittances was a
glorious one both to Stuler and the students. There were new scars, new
subjects for debate, and Stuler got rid of some of his prime tokayer.
The politics of the students was socialism, which is to say they were
always dissatisfied. Tourists seldom repeated their visits to Stuler's.
There was too much spilling of beer in laps, dumping of pipe ash into
uncovered steins, and knocking off of stiff hats.

It was in front of Old Stuler's that Maurice came to a pause. He had
heard of the place and the praise of its Hofbrau and Munich beers. He
entered. He found the interior dark and gloomy, though outside the sun
shone brilliantly. He ordered a stein of Hofbrau, and carried it into
the main hall, which was just off the bar-room. It was much lighter
here, though the hall had the tawdry appearance of a theater in the
day-time; and the motes swam thickly in the beams of sunshine which
entered through the half-closed shutters. It was only at night that
Stuler's was presentable.

Scarcely a dozen men sat at the tables. In one corner Maurice saw what
appeared to be a man asleep on his arms, which were extended the width
of the table. It was the cosiest corner in the hall, and Maurice decided
to establish himself at the other side of the table, despite the present
incumbent. Noiselessly he crossed the floor and sat down. The light was
at his back, leaving his face in the shadow, but shone squarely on the
sleeper's head.

"I do not envy his headache when he wakes up," thought Maurice. He had
detected the vinous odor of the sleeper's breath. "These headaches,
while they last, are bad things. I know; I've had 'em. I wonder,"
lifting the stein and draining it, "who the duffer was who said that
getting drunk was fun? His name has slipped my memory; no matter." He
set down the stein and banged the lid.

The sleeper stirred. "Rich," he murmured; "rich, rich! I'm rich! A
hundred thousand crowns!"

"My friend, I'm not in the position to dispute with you on that
subject," said Maurice, smiling. He rapped the stein again.

The sleeper raised his head and stared stupidly,

"Rich, aye, rich!" He was still in half a dream. "Rich, I say!"

"Hang it, I'm not arguing on that," Maurice laughed.

The other swung upright at this, his round, oily face sodden, his black
eyes blinking. He threw off the stupor when he saw that it was a man and
not the shadow of