the said prince had chosen to dress his body-guard in yellow nankin for a little change. "Bless me!" said Mrs. Nüssler, who was in the parlour, "Kurz is bringing the rector with him."--"So he is," answered Bräsig, "but he won't be much in our way this afternoon, for I intend to interrupt him whenever I see fit."--They were both afraid, and not unreasonably so, of Baldrian's love of making long speeches. The two visitors now came into the room, and the rector began to talk about his pleasure in seeing his old friends again, and told them how he had embraced the opportunity of Kurz's going to Rexow to accompany him as he could not have a better excuse. Bräsig answered shortly that his long legs were the best excuse he could have for the walk, and then turned away from him. As Mrs. Nüssler was busy talking to Kurz the rector had to content himself with addressing the rest of his remarks to Joseph, who listened to the stream of words with the most praiseworthy attention, and when it ceased, merely said: "How-d'ye-do, brother-in-law; won't you sit down."--Kurz was in a bad humour. Firstly, because he wanted to give his son a scolding; secondly, because Baldrian had nearly walked him off his legs; and thirdly, because he had got a slight chill from taking off his coat, and was suffering from hiccough. His bad temper, however, was nothing unusual, for he had almost always something to displease him. He was a radical, not with regard to the affairs of the state, for such people were then unknown in Mecklenburg, but as far as the municipal government of the town in which he lived was concerned. He had long made it the task of his life to get the charge of the town-jail out of the hands of the long-nosed baker who was so shamefully favoured by the mayor. He gasped and hiccoughed, and his heated face crowned with stubbly grey hair might, without too great a stretch of imagination, be likened to a freshly cut spiced ham that had been thickly strewed with pepper and salt on the top. The resemblance was incomplete in one particular, for there was no knife to be seen, but Bräsig took care to put that right. He went to the knife-basket, took a sharp dinner-knife out of it, and going up to the spiced ham, said: "Come, Kurz, sit down there for a moment."--"What do you want?" asked Kurz.--"To show my sympathy for your hiccough. Now, Keep your eyes fixed on the sharp edge of the knife. I shall bring the edge of the knife nearer and nearer to you, so; but you must be frightened or it will do no good. Nearer--and--nearer, as if I wanted to stab you on the nose. Nearer and--nearer till I almost touch your eyes."--"Hang it!" cried Kurz, springing to his feet "Do you mean to put out my eyes?"--"Capital!" said Bräsig. "Capital! I've given you a fright, and that ought to have cured you."--It really had the effect of sending away his hiccough, but did not lessen his ill-humour.--"Where's my son?" he asked. "I've got a crow to pick with him.