day, whom may Providence
long protect!"

To this also might he aspire.

"And to have a stall at the Grand Opera, and a carriage to return
visits--twice in carnival time--and to live in a handsome quarter, and
dine every day at our _table d'hote_ here with General von Beulwitz and
the Hof rath von Schlaff-richter? A life like this is costly, and would
scarcely be comprised under two thousand florins a year."

How my heart bounded at the notion of refinement, culture, elevated
minds, and polished habits; "science," indeed, and the "musical
glasses," all for one hundred and sixty pounds per annum.

"It is not improbable that you will see me your guest for many a day
to come," said I, as I ordered another bottle, and of a more generous
vintage, to honor the occasion.

My host offered no opposition to my convivial projects; nay, he aided
them by saying,--

"If you have really an appreciation for something super-excellent in
wine, and wish to taste what Freiligrath calls 'der Deutschen Nectar,' I
'll go and fetch you a bottle."

"Bring it by all means," said I. And away he went on his mission.

"Providence blessed me with two hands," said he, as he re-entered the
room, "and I have brought two flasks of Lieb Herzentbaler."

There is something very artistic in the way your picture-dealer, having
brushed away the dust from a Mieris or a Gerard Dow, places the work in
a favorite light before you, and then stands to watch the effect on your
countenance. So, too, will your man of rare manuscripts and illuminated
missals offer to your notice some illegible treasure of the fourth
century; but these are nothing to the mysterious solemnity of him who,
uncorking a bottle of rare wine, waits to note the varying sensations of
your first enjoyment down to your perfect ecstasy.

I tried to perform my part of the piece with credit: I looked long
at the amber-colored liquor in the glass; I sniffed it and smiled
approvingly; the host smiled too, and said, "Ja!" Not another syllable
did he utter, but how expressive was that "Ja!" "Ja!" meant, "You are
right, Potts, it is the veritable wine of 1764, bottled for the Herzog
Ludwig's marriage; every drop of it is priceless. Mark the odor, how it
perfumes the air around us; regard the color--the golden hair of Venus
can alone rival it; see how the oily globules cling to the glass!" "Ja!"
meant all this, and more.

As I drank off my glass, I was sorely puzzled by the precise expression