When Victor arrived at the parsonage, he heard the birthday hero of the day, the parson, lecturing and screaming in his study. Eymann was pouring out his holy spirit into the long ears of his catechumens, into whom no fiery tongues were to be got. He had in hand a female dunce from a hermitage (a solitary house in the woods), and was trying to explain to her the distinction between the loosing-key and the binding-key. Nothing, however, could be done with her: the chaplain and the convert had already spent a half-hour over the school-time with the explanation; the dunce was constantly confounding the keys, as if she were a--_lady of the world_. The chaplain had set his head upon illuminating hers;--he set before her every consideration that might have moved iron-wood and iron-stone,--his birthday festival of to-day, the embittering of the general joy, the surplus half-hour,--in order to persuade her, that she must comprehend the difference,--she did not, she could not see it;--he condescended to entreaties and said: "Jewel, Lamb, Beast, daughter penitent, understand it, I beseech thee,--do thy spiritual shepherd the pleasure of repeating to him the extraordinary difference between binding- and loosing-keys. Am I not dealing fairly with thee?--But my office as parson requires of me not to let thee go like a cow, without knowing a key.--Only take courage and just say after me, word for word, dearly-bought christian beast."--She did so at last, and when she had done, he said joyfully, "Now thou pleasest thy teacher, and attend further."--Out of doors she recapitulated it all, and had comprehended it all very well, except that instead of "Bind- und Löse-Schlüssel" (keys) she always caught it "Bind- und Löse-_Schüssel_" (dishes).-- The three-twins had a miserable plan of not coming till after dinner.--The soul of the red Appel was exhaling for this very occasion a wild-game flavor, and smelt like burnt milk-porridge, and complained that she alone had all the labor on her shoulders, and when Agatha offered to fly to her assistance, she said: "I can do it, thank God! as well as thou!" The Regency-Councillor had arrived, but unfortunately had run out into the fields again till dinner-time,--Agatha's face had been crystallized into a rock-cellar by the coldness of her brother towards Victor,--only the parson's wife was the parson's wife; not merely one mother-country, but one breath of love linked her heart to his, and it was impossible for her to be angry with him. She loved a maiden, if he praised her; had she been without a husband, she would have been either his love-letter-writer or his letter-carrier.