"At all events, it has been a fortunate incident for us," said Anton, "as it releases these gentlemen from the observance of their vows. I see no reason, therefore, why they should any longer deprive us of the enjoyment their musical talents are so calculated to afford. From what I hear, my dear Specht, you were a little hasty; so make such an apology to these gentlemen as becomes a man of honor, and then I shall propose the instant re-establishment of the quartette." Specht rose accordingly, and said, "Adopting the advice of my friend Wohlfart, I now beg to apologize to you all, and am, moreover, ready to give you satisfaction in any way that you prefer." Whereupon he tossed off his glass, and vehemently shook hands with the basses. After that the music-books were brought out, and the four voices sounded remarkably well out of the arbor. A reconciliation with Pix still remained to be effected. Specht looked at him all evening mistrustfully, as he sat on the sofa-bed, stroking old Pluto, who had come with him to the party. Specht now poured out another glass for Pix, and laid it down beside him. Pix quaffed it in silence; Specht refilled it, and began in a free-and-easy tone--"Now, Pix, what do you think of the pumpkins?" "It is a crazy idea," said Pix. Specht turned away much hurt, but he soon returned to the charge. "You will grant, Pix, that men may hold different opinions on many subjects, and yet need not be enemies." "I grant that." "Why, then, are you my enemy? Why do you think meanly of me? It is hard to live on bad terms with one's colleagues. I will not conceal that I esteem you, and that your conduct pains me. You have refused me satisfaction, and yet you are angry with me." "Don't heat yourself," said Pix; "I have refused you no satisfaction, and I am not angry with you." "Will you prove this to these gentlemen?" cried Specht, much pleased; "will you hob-nob with me?" "Come, now," said Pix, good-humoredly, "I have no wish to quarrel; I only say this pumpkin notion was a crazy one." "But it is my notion still," cried Specht, withdrawing his glass; "I water them with bullock's blood, and in a few weeks they will be green." "No," said Pix; "that is over forever, as you will see yourself to-morrow morning. And now come here and hob-nob with me, and pumpkins shall never be spoken of between us any more." Specht hob-nobbed with all his heart, and became exceedingly cheerful. The weight that had long oppressed him had fallen off. He sang, he shook all his colleagues by the hand, and dealt more largely than ever in bold assertions. As Anton went down stairs with the others, he remarked that Pluto was carrying something yellow in his mouth, and gnawing it eagerly. "It is Specht's pumpkin," said Pix; "the dog has taken it for a piece of beef, and bitten it to pieces." CHAPTER XXIV.