"What are you bellowing at in your own house, young Joseph?" cried a voice at the door, and then some one came in who frightened Joseph considerably. He was so much startled that he let his pipe fall out of his mouth, raised both his hands, and exclaimed: "All good spirits praise God, the Lord!--Is that you reverend Sir, or is it you, Bräsig?" Yes, it was Bräsig, or at least it was very like him, as Joseph would have seen if he had had time to look. But he had not time, for the new-comer had caught Bolster in the very act of pilfering, and was now rushing about the room, looking in every corner for a stick with which to chastise the delinquent, his long black coat tails streamed behind him as he ran, and his angry red face showed between the high collar of his black coat, and his tall black hat which had fallen half over his eyes with the violence of his exertions. He looked for all the world like one of those terrible bogies with which nurses frighten naughty children. Young Joseph was no longer a child, but he was really alarmed; he started up from his chair, and holding on to the back of it tightly, kept shouting: "Reverend Sir!--Bräsig!--Bräsig!--Reverend Sir!"--But the crown-prince was still very young and so he was frightened out of his wits. The door was shut so that he could not make his escape that way. He rushed wildly round the room, till at last, springing at the window, he dashed right through it into the road, carrying a great part of it along with him. The noise was enough to waken the dead, so why did Mrs. Nüssler not come in from the kitchen? She did not appear till Bräsig shoving his hat out of his eyes with one hand, and pointing at the broken window with the other, said: "It's all your fault, young Joseph! That poor creature the crown-prince didn't know that he was doing any harm. All the good kümmel spilt!"--"Good gracious!" cried Mrs. Nüssler, letting her hands fall limply by her side. "What's the meaning of all this, Joseph? Law, Bräsig! How very odd you do look to be sure!"--"Mother," said young Joseph, "the dog and Bräsig ..... What could I do?"--"For shame, young Joseph," cried Bräsig, beginning to walk up and down the room, the long tails of his coat almost sweeping the pool of kümmel as he passed it, "Who is master in this house? Is it you or young Bolster?"--"But, Bräsig, whatever induced you to make such a guy of yourself?" asked Mrs. Nüssler.--"Ah!" replied Bräsig, looking at her reproachfully, "what was to be done? I fell into the water yesterday evening during a _randyvoo_ with Mrs. Behrens, and my clothes were still too wet to put on this morning. And then the letter I got from you yesterday telling me that you wanted to consult me about family matters! How else could I have come?--And is it _my_ fault that the parson is as long as Lewerenz's child, as thin as a mere slip of a girl, and has a larger head than I happen to have got? Why did Mrs. Behrens lend me her husband's clothes, and why did all the stupid