Thus the room really did present the aspect Mr. Specht had long seen in his day-dreams. The colleagues were exceedingly amazed. Mr. Pix was the last to enter, and could not suppress an exclamation of surprise when he saw the unlucky arbor positively overgrown and covered with yellow flowers, shining in the colored lamp-light. The great flower-pots were filled with gay nosegays, a red lamp hung down from the centre, and on the rustic table was placed a large pumpkin. Anton would make the quartette sit in the arbor, and grouped the others around the room, the bed having been arranged with bolsters and cushions so as to look like a second sofa. When they were all settled, Specht approached the great pumpkin, and solemnly exclaimed, "You have long plagued me about pumpkins; here is my revenge." He took hold of the short stalk, and lifted away the other half. It was hollow. A bowl of punch stood within. The clerks laughed, and cried "Bravo!" while Specht filled the glasses. Nevertheless, at first, there was a certain degree of estrangement visible between the host and his guests. True, the obnoxious word was never mentioned, but his propositions seldom found favor. When Anton went round dispensing a bundle of Turkish pipes, which he had bought while abroad for his colleagues, Specht proposed that they should all sit cross-legged on the sofas and on the floors, in true Turkish fashion. This proposal fell through. Also, when he next asserted that, as our commerce with the East increased, the Circassian maidens sold by their parents to Turkish families would soon come over and play the part of waitresses in Bavarian beer-shops, he evidently failed to carry conviction to any of the party. But the gentle influences of the pumpkin-bowl gradually told upon the severe intellects of the counting-house. First of all, the musical members of the firm were reconciled. Anton proposed the health of the quartette. The quartette returned thanks in some embarrassment, having been dissolved for about a month. It came out, however, from certain dark hints given by the first bass, that Specht had been unreasonable in his demands upon them. He had wished to make use of the quartette to serenade the charming Zillibi, the _prima donna_ of the circus; and when the basses declined, Specht had flown into a violent passion, and sworn he would never sing with them till they consented. "If he had been content to serenade her in the evening," said Balbus, "we might, perhaps, have given in for the sake of peace, but he maintained that it must be at four o'clock in the morning, as it was then that the riding-master rose to feed his horses. That was too much. Meanwhile the lady ran off with a Bajazzo." "That is not true," cried Specht; "the Bajazzo carried her off by force."