That was too much for Jochen; a farmer make a speech? such a thing had never occurred to him before; he did not say another word during the whole evening, until, just before he fell asleep, he uttered his ultimate conclusion: "That must be a confounded smart fellow!" Bräsig did not give up so easily. "What had he to speak about?" said he again. "If there was anything to be done about the laborers, there is Habermann!" "Herr Inspector," said the rector, falling in, "a good speech is always in place. Cicero----" "Who was this Cicero?" "The greatest orator of antiquity." "Eh, I didn't ask about that; I mean, what was his business; was he a farmer, or a shopkeeper, or was he appointed a magistrate, or was he a doctor, or what was he?" "I have told you, he was the greatest orator of antiquity." "Oh, antiquity here, antiquity there! if he was nothing else--I cannot bear those old gabblers, a man should do something. Let me tell you, Rudolph, don't be an orator, you may fish, for all me, it is all one, perch or carp,--but this speaking is as if you should go fishing in a well. And now, good night! Come Jochen!" With that, they went off, and Fritz struck off to the right, across the Pumpelhagen fields, with a medley of thoughts in his head. The old fellow was not envious, but it went against the grain that his two schoolmates in Rahnstadt should each have a bride, while as yet he had none. But he knew how to comfort himself. No, said he, he would not thank any one for such a bride as they had got; he could have had either of the little twins, but he wouldn't take them. Louise Habermann, too, might go to Jericho, for him. He would not be a fool, to pick the first good plum, for the first plums were always wormy; he would wait till they were all properly ripe, and then he could take his choice from the upper or the lower branches; and, meanwhile, all the little maidens who ran about the world on their pretty feet belonged to him, and then he was going to have a horse, and the very next day he would go and buy the Whalebone mare of Gust Prebberow. CHAPTER XX.