"I am not reckoning wrong," said Pomuchelskopp, "the Herr von Rambow and Nüssler have declined the business, in writing; the young man cannot farm it himself, he is too stupid, and I need not allow an under-pächter; he must rent the field to me, and I have it in my own hands, I can say, 'So much, and not a shilling more!'" And so Gottlieb was elected, for nearly all the votes were given for him, only a couple of day-laborers from Rexow voted for their master, Jochen Nüssler. It was merely a mistake, for they believed it was all the same, and it was done in friendship. And in Jochen Nüssler's house, there was great joy and pleasure, and the two little twin-apples were floating in bright sunshine, down a clear brook, and nestled close to each other, and Mining floated joyously with her sister, although her own prospects were not so brilliant. But she had a little personal ground of rejoicing; her father, young Jochen, had come in from the field one day, and said this everlasting working was too hard for him, he wished Rudolph were there; and Mother had said he ought to be ashamed of himself, he was still a young fellow; and father had said, "Well, he would manage a little longer;" but it was the beginning of the final blessedness, and the thing was a little hook for her hopes to hang upon. With Lining, however, all was settled and arranged, and the outfit was purchased, and Frau Nüssler's living-room looked like a spinning-room and cotton factory; here was spinning, and there was knitting, there was sewing and embroidering, and twisting and reeling, and skeins were wound on and wound off, and every one had his share, even young Jochen, and young Bauschan. Young Jochen was employed as yarn-winder, and sat up stiffly, with his pipe in his mouth, and held out his arms with a skein of yarn, and his wife stood before him and wound it off, and when he believed he was to have a little relief, there came Lining, and then Mining, and he was a conquered man; but young Bauschan had his share, also, they were always treading on his toes, and no one had so much reason to curse this wedding as young Bauschan, till, at last, he retired from the business altogether, esteeming the rubbish-heap in the farm-yard a more comfortable place than a room where an outfit was being prepared. "So," said Frau Nüssler one evening, folding her hands in her lap, "Bräsig, for all I care, they may be married to-morrow, I am ready with everything." "Well," said Bräsig, "then make your preparations, for the Pietist and Lining are sure to be ready too." "Ah, Bräsig, how you talk! The principal thing is still wanting, the government has not given its assent to the parish--What do you call the thing?" "Ah yes, I know. You mean the vocation, as it is generally called, but I think vocations is the right word, because the blessed Pastor Behrens, in my younger days, always said vocations."