When a man intentionally works his anxieties and apprehensions up to the highest possible pitch, some consolation is sure to fall upon his heart from heaven, like a drop of warm rain. Siebenkæs began catechising himself more strictly, asking himself what it really was that he was tormenting himself about. Nothing but the fear of having to go to the shooting-match without money, without powder and shot, and without having had his boots abbreviated for the third time! "Is that really all?" he said. "And what, if you please, is there to make it a compulsory matter that I should go there at all? I'll tell you what it is" (he went on to himself), "I am the monkey complaining bitterly that, having stuck his hand into a narrow-mouthed bottle of rice, and filled it, he can't pull it out without a corkscrew. All I've got to do is to sell my rifle and my shooting ticket; all I've got to do is to open my hand and draw it out empty." So he made up his mind to take his rifle to the barber on the day of the auction to be put up to sale. All battered, bruised, and weary with the day, he climbed into his bed, with the thought of which safe and sheltered anchoring ground he consoled himself all day long. "There is this blessed property about night," he said, as he sat and spread the feathers of his quilt level, "that while it lasts we need trouble ourselves neither about candles, coals, victuals, drink, debts, nor clothes; all we want is a bed. A poor fellow is in peace and comfort as long as he is lying down: and, luckily, he has only got to stand for half of his time." The attacks of syncope, to which our souls and our cheerfulness are subject, cease, as those of the body do (according to Zimmermann), when the patient is placed in a horizontal position. Had his bed been provided with bed-tassel, I should have called it the capstan, whereby he heaved himself slowly up on the Monday morning from his resting place. When he got up, he ascended to the garret, where his rifle was nailed up in an old, long field-chest, to keep it safe. This rifle was a valuable legacy from his father, who had been huntsman and gun-loader to a great prince of the empire. He took a crowbar, and, using it as a lever, prised up the lid with its roots, _i. e_. nails; and the first thing he saw in it was a leather arm, which "gave him quite a turn;" for he had had many a good thrashing from that arm in bygone days.