to understand as much in the presence of his lovely wife."--He then told all that had happened. Hawermann tried to talk him into a better humour, but did not quite succeed. Bräsig at last exclaimed with indignant emphasis: "It was his own folly that made him act as he did, but it was Samuel Pomuchelskopp who roused him to do it. He had just been calling at Gürlitz manor. And you may say what you like, Charles, your master's a fool, and when once you've been sent about your business, I'll amuse myself by coming over here, and standing on the top of this hill that I may see what a mess your master and your grey-hound make of the farm."--"Well," said Hawermann, "if you want to see something queer you needn't wait till then. Just look over there!" He pointed as he spoke over the thorn-bush behind which they happened to be standing, and down the road. Bräsig did as he was desired, and was so struck by amazement at what he saw, that he was unable to utter a word. At last he said: "Why, Charles, your grey-hound has gone crazy. Apothecaries often go mad, and I daresay their children inherit the disease from them."--It really seemed as if Bräsig was right. Fred was riding the famous sorrel-mare up the road at a foot's pace. He had taken off his hat, and was waving it violently, and shouting as loud as he could: "Hurrah! Hurrah!" and all apparently for his own edification, for he could not see the two old men behind the thorn-bush till they advanced towards him, and Hawermann asked whether he had gone mad.--"It's all a lie," said Fred.--"What's a lie?" asked Hawermann angrily.--"That the mare won't stand shouting," and with that he began to hurrah again.--"Look!" he said dismounting and tying his horse to a willow-branch, and then going to a little distance he shouted "hurrah!" once more. "You see she doesn't shy a bit. And you," turning to Bräsig who looked as if he were on the point of bursting out laughing, "told me she couldn't stand it, and you see it isn't true."--"I see," said Bräsig, shaking with laughter, "but still it's quite true. I said what I said, and it was this, that she couldn't _hear_ it, and neither she can, for the creature's as deaf as a post, and has been so for all the five years that I've known her."--On hearing this Fred Triddelfitz, clever, quick-witted Fred Triddelfitz stood staring at the old man with the most sheepish expression in the world. "But," he stammered out at last, "Augustus Prebberow is a great friend of mine, and he never told me that"--"Ah," said Bräsig, "you'll soon find out that friendship counts for less than nothing in horse-dealing."--"Never mind, Triddelfitz," said Hawermann kindly, for he was sorry for the lad. "The mare may suit you very well though she's deaf; it's better to be deaf than tricky."--"Oh," said Fred, his spirits rising. "I know what to do. Look now--yes, that's spavin she has got, but still she's a thoroughbred. She's in foal by Hector. Mr. von Rambow has promised to