"Fie! Fie! When you are going to rob a gentleman, you shouldn't draw a knife on him. He will be too polite to refuse anything you may ask, if you ask politely"--which was Devilshoof's idea of wit. There was a hotel across the street, and one of the gipsies pointed to a light in its windows. "It will be easy when our fine gentlemen have been drinking long enough. They won't know their heads from their heels." They stole off chuckling, to wait till they imagined every one to be asleep, but they were no sooner gone than Florestein, that funny little fop who never had thought of anything more serious than his appearance, reeled out of the hotel. He was dressed all in his good clothes, and wore golden chains about his neck--to one of which was attached a fine medallion. Rings glittered on his fingers, and altogether, with his plumes and furbelows, he was precisely the sort of thing Devilshoof and his companions were looking for. He was so very drunk that he could not imagine what a fool he was making of himself, and so he began to sing: Wine, wine, if I am heir, To the count, my uncle's line; Wine, wine, wine, Where's the fellow will dare To refuse his nephew wine? This excellent song was punctuated by hiccoughs. There was another stanza which rebuked the boldness of the moon--in short, mentioned the shortcomings of most people compared to this elegant fellow's. Altogether, he was a very funny joke to the gipsies who were waiting for him and peering and laughing from round a corner as he sang. Then Devilshoof went up to him with mock politeness. He bowed very seriously. My ear caught not the clock's last chime, And might I beg to ask the time? Florestein, even though he was drunk, was half alive to his danger. He hadn't enough courage to survive a sudden sneeze. So he braced up a little and eyed Devilshoof: If the bottle has prevailed, Yet whenever I'm assailed, Though there may be nothing in it, I am sobered in a minute. One could see that this was quite true. Florestein was a good deal worried. He took out his watch, and assured Devilshoof that it was quite late. I am really grieved to see Any one in such a state, And gladly will take the greatest care Of the rings and chains you chance to wear, Devilshoof said still more politely; and bowing all of the time he removed the ornaments from Florestein's person. What I thought was politeness, is downright theft, And at this rate I soon shall have nothing left,