One afternoon Humboldt was walking through one of the markets at Berlin, when his eye was attracted to one of the stalls, where a pair of beautiful pistols, inlaid with mother of pearl and of rare old workmanship, were exhibited. He bought them at the price of ten thalers, and on his return home he made the interesting discovery that one of the papers used for wrapping was a leaf from an old “book on herbs,” the work of one of the earliest printers. To save from utter destruction a priceless treasure, Humboldt returned at once into the region of second-hand clothes-shops. For some time he could not find the man who had sold him the pistols, as all the dealers thought he had come to return them. Only when he declared that he had come to return a thaler given to him above his change, they all came from their shops, surrounded him and clamored for the money. They grew so offensive that Humboldt raised his pistols, which had the effect of making them take to their heels and also brought the real former owner, who told him to put the old shooting irons in his pocket, as they were not loaded, and to give him the money. Humboldt followed him into his shop and asked for the book from which the leaf was torn. He soon discovered that with the exception of a few leaves, the book bound in pigskin was intact, and one of the rarest of its kind. Asked for the price of the book, the dealer in old clothes took a pair of patched trousers from a hook and said:—“Give me four thalers and you shall have this beautiful pair of trousers into the bargain. You will look swell in them next Sunday.” The bargain was closed, but Humboldt declined the addition of old clothes. Whenever the great naturalist afterwards showed the treasures of his library to his friends, he never omitted to tell the story of how he acquired the “book on herbs.” Murder Will Out Having just recovered from a severe illness, the amiable author of fairy tales, Musäus, was invited out to a dinner. Everybody there was pleased to see him looking so well, and congratulated him on his recovery; but at last his wife could keep silent no longer and confessed that he only looked so well, because he had used her rouge when dressing. “Well, the murder is out,” said Musäus; “do you feel better now? Yes, I did paint myself red, because I dislike being pitied on account of my illness, and would rather be envied for my healthy looks. But since my wife is such a tell-tale, I shall not keep silent either, and will tell you of a bright remark she made, a short time ago, while we were driving to Erfurt. We were passing a field of flax in full bloom and I said: ‘See how beautifully blue the flax is!’ At this my wife points to the field next to it and says, just to show her extraordinary knowledge of farming: ‘Yes, but the _tow_ in the next field is looking fine too.’” Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi