"I agree with you there, Karl, it is not proper; but come this way!" And when they had gone a little way towards the street, he stood still, and said, slowly and impressively, "Karl, this young fellow thought it something to be ashamed of, to be seen walking with me on the highway. What do you say now? He gave me a Timothy, in the presence of his lovely wife;" and he related the circumstances. Habermann tried to talk him out of his anger, but did not wholly succeed, for Bräsig was too much provoked. "Karl," said he, "he has shot the arrow, in his stupidity, but it was pointed by Zamel Pomuchelskopp, for he had been calling there. And you may say what you will, Karl,--your young Herr is downright stupid, and when you are hunted away, then I shall amuse myself coming over here, and place myself on the hill, where I can overlook the fields, and see what sort of performances your young Herr and your greyhound carry on together." "Well," said Habermann, "you can see one of them, at this moment. Just look round!" and he pointed down the road, near which they happened to be standing, behind a thorn-bush. Bräsig looked, and stood stiff and stark with amazement, unable to utter a word; at last he said, "Karl, your greyhound is cracked. Apothecaries are often crackbrained, and it is natural their children should inherit it." It really looked, as if Bräsig were right. Fritz came riding up, on the famous horse, on a gentle trot. He had taken off his hat, and was swinging it violently in the air, and shouting with all his might, "Hurrah! Hurrah!" and all this, entirely by himself; for he did not perceive the two behind the thorn-bush, until he had ridden up to them, and Habermann asked if he were clean out of his head. "They are nothing but lies," said Fritz. "What are lies?" asked Habermann, sharply. "That the mare cannot hear hurrahs," and with that he began to cry "Hurrah!" again. "You see," and he sprang off the horse, and tied it to a willow, and going off a few steps, again cried "Hurrah!" "You see, she does not budge an inch. And _you_"--he turned to Bräsig, who was half dead with laughter, "_you_ told me so; but it isn't true!" "Yes," said Bräsig, shaking all over, "but it is true, though. What I said, I say again: she cannot hear it, for the old granny has been, these five years that I have known her, _stone deaf_." There stood Fritz Triddelsitz, the old clever, crafty Fritz Triddelsitz, wearing the most sheepish face imaginable. "But," said he, at last, "Gust Prebberow is a good friend of mine, and he never told me that." "Yes," said Bräsig, "you will know, after this, that friendship goes for nothing, in a horse trade." "Well, never mind, Triddelsitz," said Habermann, "one can get along with a deaf horse; take care not to get a dumb one!" "Oh!" said Fritz, quite relieved, "no fear of that! Just look at her, what a model of a horse! Full blood! And Herr von Rambow is going to buy all the colts, and when I have sold three or four----"