icular to-day, pray?" asked Christopher, and he
received for answer:

"Professor Gellert must have a fair load; every shaving kept back from
him were a sin."

Christopher laughed aloud, and the wood-measurer looked at him with
amazement; for such particularity generally provoked a quarrel.

Christopher had still some logs over; these he kept by him on the wagon.
At this moment the servant Sauer came up, and asked to whom the wood
belonged.

"To Professor Gellert," answered Christopher.

"The man's mad! it isn't true. Professor Gellert has not bought any
wood; it is my business to look after that."

"He has not bought it, and yet it is his!" cried Christopher.

Sauer was on the point of giving the mad peasant a hearty scolding,
raising his voice so much the louder, as it was striking eleven by St.
Nicholas. At this moment, however, he became suddenly mute; for yonder
from the University there came, with tired gait, a man of a noble
countenance: at every step he made, on this side and on that, off came
the hats and the caps of the passers-by, and Sauer simply called out,
"There comes the Professor himself."

What a peculiar expression passed over Christopher's face! He looked
at the new-comer, and so earnest was his gaze, that Gellert, who always
walked with his head bowed, suddenly looked up. Christopher said: "Mr.
Gellert, I am glad to see you still alive."

"I thank you," said Gellert, and made as though he would pass on; but
Christopher stepped up closer to him, and, stretching out his hand to
him, said: "I have taken the liberty--I should like--will you give me
your hand, Mr. Gellert?"

Gellert drew his long thin hand out of his muff and placed it in the
hard oaken-like hand of the peasant; and at this moment, when the
peasant's hand lay in the scholars palm, as one felt the other's
pressure in actual living grasp, there took place, though the mortal
actors in the scene were all unconscious of it, a renewal of that
healthy life which alone can make a people one.

How long had the learned world, wrapped up in itself, separated from
the fellow-men around, thought in Latin, felt as foreigners, and lived
buried in contemplation of bygone worlds! From the time of Gellert
commences the ever-increasing unity of good-fellowship throughout
all classes of life, kept up by mutual giving and receiving. As the
scholar--as the solitary poet endeavors to work upon others by lays that
quicken and songs that incite, so