"God forbid!" said Fritz, "I arranged the machine just as you ordered, I measured the land myself." "It isn't possible!" cried Habermann, "then my eyes must deceive me. Where is your measuring-rod?" "I haven't a measuring-rod," said Fritz, "and don't need one either," he added, spitefully, for the great approbation of the young Herr had gone to his head. "I measure everything with my instrument," pointing to his invention which lay at his feet. "What?" cried Habermann, "what is that?" "An invention of mine," said Fritz, looking as proud as if he had set up the first steam-engine. "Ah!" said Habermann, "well, take the trumpery, and measure me ten rods." Fritz took his invention in hand, and let the thing run. Habermann walked by his side, and asked: "How much have you?" "Ten rods," said Fritz. "And I have nine, and two feet," said the old man. "It isn't possible," said Fritz, "you must have counted wrong, my instrument is right." "Five of my steps are a Mecklenburg rod," said the old man hotly, "but because you are a fool you have spoiled the whole field of barley. How can such trumpery measure in the fresh furrow, when it could hardly do upon perfectly even ground. Oh, laziness, laziness! Go in directly, and bring me out a proper measuring-rod!" and he took his knife out of his pocket, and cut Fritz's invention into little pieces, and then went to the machine, and arranged it differently. Fritz stood there, looking first at him, and then at his invention, which lay about him, in little bits; it is really a hard thing for a man, who wishes to accomplish something in the world, to be so taken down, at his first attempt. He had such benevolent intentions,--of course towards himself first, but also towards all his colleagues, and all the clerks in Mecklenburg,--that that infamous stooping might go out of fashion, and now his good intentions lay in fragments at his feet. "I must bring the measuring-rod," said he, "there is no help for that; but I would a thousand times rather manage with the gracious Herr, than with old Habermann." And as he went up to the house after the rod, a great bitterness came over him towards Habermann, and he forgot all that he had promised him in a happy hour,--the best rooms in his house, two carriage horses, and a saddle horse,--and as he was speaking, for a moment, with Marie Möller, who had again taken possession of his vacant heart, and learned from her that the young Herr had spoken sharply to Habermann at the window, he comforted himself, and went off with the rod over his shoulder, and a bit of sausage in his hand, saying: "Well, the old man will not do for us much longer; he is getting too old; he has no capacity for new ideas." CHAPTER XXVIII.