Paul did not heed the little basket-carriage that drove behind the monster, in which sat Lob Levy, with his shaggy, reddish beard, and his merry, twinkling eyes; he did not heed the screaming of the carmen, and the exultation of his two little sisters, who danced like mad round the wheels. He stood there dazed with wonder, as if he could not understand yet what was happening around him. When, later on, he entered the big room, he found his mother crouching in the corner of the sofa, crying. He put his arm round her neck; but she kept him gently off, and said, “Go and look after the little ones, so that they do not get under the wheels.” “But why do you cry, mamma?” “You will see in time, my boy,” she said, stroking his hair. “Lob Levy is in it--you will see in time.” Then he felt angry with his mother! When all were joyful why should she sit moping in a corner and cry? But the joy was now over for him; and when he saw Lob Levy loiter about the yard, in his long black “heel-warmer,” he would have liked most to favor Caro with a hint towards his calves. The twins were quite beside themselves with joy. They took a cord, and crying “gee” and “whoa,” raced wildly through the garden. One of them was the locomobile, the other the horse, but each wanted to be the locomobile, because then she got father’s black hat put on for the chimney. Before going to sleep they had already given a name to the new monster. They maintained that it resembled the fat servant-girl with a long neck, who a short time ago had been dismissed on account of her slatternliness, and they called it, after her, “Black Susy.” The locomobile kept this name forever after in Meyerhofer’s house. Next morning the noise began afresh. The ten hired workmen stood in the yard and did not know what to do. Meyerhofer wanted to have the engine heated, but Lob Levy, who had passed the night in a shed in order to be at hand the first thing in the morning, wanted first to receive his price, as it had been settled in the agreement, because the grain had to be delivered in town by noon. “What grain?” the mother asked, turning pale. Well, it could not be denied any longer: Meyerhofer had sold almost the whole harvest--the thrashed corn as well as the amount still to be thrashed--to the Jew for the old worn-out engine. Triumphantly the latter drove away with the beautiful full sacks. And this was only a sort of premium; towards Christmas he would come and fetch the rest. A feeling of discouragement overcame for a moment even the light-minded Meyerhofer himself when he saw the high-piled carts disappear behind the woods; but in the next he put his hands defiantly into his trousers-pockets, and ordered that the machine should be got ready without delay.