But when hour after hour went by, and evening came, and Neander had not appeared, she grew quite alarmed. What dreadful thing might have happened to him! In the meantime he—who was so painfully missed—found that it was getting too dark on top of the stove to read any longer, so he concluded to come down from his high seat. But, alas! his retreat was cut off! In a distressed voice he called for his Hannchen, who delightedly hurried to his relief. A Hard “Not” A young author once handed to Professor Engel a drama, whose title was, “Such is Humanity,” asking him to give his opinion of it. Engel returned it shortly, saying: “I wrote my opinion down on it.” The author for some time looked in vain for the written criticism, but at last he found that Engel had added to the title the little word “not.” A Frank Answer Emperor Karl V, once asked Michel Angelo what he thought of Albrecht Dürer. The great painter answered: “If I were not Michel Angelo, I would rather be Albrecht Dürer than Karl V.” Unbiased Opinion Count D., a collector and somewhat conceited connoisseur of paintings, had a landscape in his gallery which he considered a great masterpiece. He showed it to a celebrated painter, asking his opinion of it, with these words: “Several people to whom I have shown it insist that it is a copy, but I’m blessed if I don’t horsewhip the next fellow who says so. Now, my dear friend, I want you to give me your candid opinion of it!” An Interesting Pose A young man wished to have his portrait painted. “How do you wish to pose?” asked the artist. “With a book in my hand, reading aloud.” Altruism A critic once boasted in company, of the power of his pen, and said, among other bright things, that artists owed their fame to him, as he distributed it. “Indeed you do,” replied a witty woman, “and so generously, that there is not a particle left for yourself.” Both May Be Mistaken Voltaire, while living at Berlin, once praised the poet Haller very much. A gentleman present said: “You praise Haller, while he expresses himself very differently about you.” “You are right,” returned Voltaire, “but possibly we are both mistaken.” Very Slow “What,” cried a young physician, seeing Voltaire drink coffee late at night, “you drink coffee? Why, coffee is a slow poison!” “I believe you are right there; it must be a slow poison,” replied Voltaire, pouring out another cup, “since I have enjoyed it daily, for about sixty years.” Stars in the Wrong Places The great but timid astronomer, Schubert, once acted very awkwardly at a court function. Some one remarked how strange it was to see a great man like that act so strangely. A wag said sarcastically: “It, no doubt, confuses him to see so many stars in the wrong places,” referring to the medals on the gentlemen’s breasts. All Score Gellert, the writer of a number of our most beautiful hymns, wrote the following, of Haller’s poem “The Origin of Evil”: