"Yes," said Habermann, "that is understood. Frau Pastorin, the rent must be raised; times are better, but there will be no difficulty in the matter,--the advantage lies on both sides." "Regina," said her Pastor, "it occurs to me that the flowers at the end of the garden have not been watered." "Ah, my dear life!" cried the Pastorin, and bustled out of the door, "the flowers!" "So," said the Pastor, "now we can soon settle it. I must confess to you, that I prefer to have a renter from outside, rather than one belonging to the place; there are so many little differences which spring from such immediate neighborhood, and make such a relation so doubtful and annoying, as it ought not to be between landlords and ministers. And the Kammerrath is personally much dearer to me than the new owner,--I have known him so many years. And you think I may demand a higher rent?" "Yes, indeed, Herr Pastor, and I am authorized to offer you the half more. If I wished to rent the land myself, I could offer you still more; but----" "We understand each other, dear Habermann," said the Pastor, "we are agreed in the matter." And when the Frau Pastorin again bustled in with the little Louise, and cried out, "It was not necessary! Louise had already attended to the matter!" then was her Pastor's business all settled, and the dear little Louise hung around her father's neck: "Ah, father, father, that is so good!" Why should she hang about her father's neck? What had she to do with rent-contracts? Much, much! Her father would now be a little nearer to the Pastor's garden, ploughing and harvesting, and she should see him the oftener. As Habermann went back through the church-yard, he met Zachary Bräsig, who had passed happily, out of his dreadfully unphilosophical stage of the gout, into the philosophical, as generally happened when his troubles were over. "Good-day, Karl," said he, "I have been in your quarters a while waiting for you. But the time seemed long, so I made my compliments, meanwhile, to the Herr Kammerrath. He was very glad to see me, and treated me with the greatest kindness; but how the man looks!" Yes, said Habermann, his master had--God bless him--grown very old and weak, and he for his part feared he was soon to lose the friend he esteemed so highly. "Yes," nodded Bräsig, "but what is life, Karl? What is human life? See here, Karl, turn it over and over, like a leather money-bag, and not a shilling falls out." "Bräsig," said Habermann, "I don't know what other people think about it, but it seems to me as if life and labor were one and the same."