she knew made
in Bamberg. Then Monsieur Pickard Leberfink assured her privately, with
a most amorous smirk, that he himself knew a little about baking cakes
and sweets, and that he was the happy maker of all these delicious
dainties. Rettel almost fell upon her knees before him in reverence and
astonishment; and yet the greatest surprise, was still in store for
her.

In the deepening dusk Monsieur Pickard Leberfink very cleverly
contrived to entice little Rettel into a small arbour. No sooner was he
alone with her than he recklessly plumped himself down upon both knees
in the wet grass, notwithstanding that he was wearing his brilliant
green satin hose; and, amidst many strange and unintelligible sounds of
distress--not very dissimilar to the midnight elegies of the tom-cat
Hinz[18]--he presented her with an immense nosegay of flowers, in the
middle of which was the finest full-blown rose that could be found
anywhere. Rettel did what everybody does who has a nosegay given to
him; she raised it to her nose; but in the selfsame moment she felt a
sharp prick. In her alarm she was about to throw the nosegay away. But
see what charming wonder had revealed itself in the meantime! A
beautifully varnished little cupid had leapt up out of the heart of the
rose and was holding out a burning heart with both hands towards
Rettel. From his mouth depended a small strip of paper on which were
written the words, "Voila le c[oe]ur de Monsieur Pickard Leberfink, que
je vous offre" (Here I offer you the heart of Monsieur Pickard
Leberfink).

"Good gracious!" exclaimed Rettel, very much alarmed. "Good gracious!
what are you doing, my good Herr Leberfink? Don't kneel down in front
of me as if I were a princess. You will make marks on your beautiful
satin--in the wet grass, and you will catch cold yourself; but elder
tea and white sugar candy are good remedies."

"No!" exclaimed the desperate lover--"No, O Margaret, Pickard
Leberfink, who loves you with all his heart, will not rise from the wet
grass until you promise to be his"---- "You want to marry me?" asked
Rettel. "Well then, up you get at once. Speak to my father, darling
Leberfink, and drink one or two cups of elder tea this evening."

Why should the reader be longer wearied with Leberfink's and Rettel's
folly? They were made for each other, and were betrothed, at which
Father Wacht was right glad in his own teasing, humorous way.

A certain degree of life was introduced into