“Master, we were down below there, sitting drinking our beer, as your worshipful company, saving your presence, is now seated drinking your wine; we sang, we drank, we laughed, not a soul among us thought of quarrelling; suddenly, I had just delivered myself of a little _bon-mot_, such as is not unusual at our German weddings--” “Strasburger, what was that _bon-mot_? Come, out with it frankly!” “I said,” replied the workman, hesitating, “I said--” Here the Parisian, with the vivacity of a Frenchman, interrupted the other, and repeated the _bon-mot_ in question--a witticism so strongly seasoned, that, although it might be allowable at a country wedding, it could not be repeated here without a breach of good manners. This unexpected communication was received with a violent burst of laughter from the male part of the company, including even the worthy Burgomaster Jacob Fust, the bridegroom alone felt his anger rising, and, having some difficulty in restraining himself, he bounded from his seat, while the cheeks of his gentle better-half, Christine, became of a deeper hue than the velvet of the dress she wore. The Strasburger, emboldened by the success of his _bon-mot_, and by the excellent reception it had met with, cast a look of triumphant satisfaction on the little Parisian, who stood by speechless and astounded. At this moment a bashful glance directed to him by dame Christine, unseen by all the rest, rewarded him for his chivalrous conduct. The old workman continued his harangue.