"Yes," said one of his own company, who rode up with him, "these folks are right. You should be ashamed of yourself! The poor man has given up everything that he had a right to keep, and goes out into the world to-morrow, empty-handed, and you go on abusing him." "Ah, indeed," said the auctioneer, "if that were all! But his wife died only yesterday, and lies on her last couch, and there he is with his poor little child, and what prospect has the poor man for the future?" The murmur went round among the people of the landlord's company, and it was not long before he had the place to himself; those who came with him had ridden aside. "Did I know that?" said he peevishly, and rode out of the yard; and the little, crafty eyes said to the broad arrogance, "Brother, this time we went rather too far." The auctioneer turned to Habermann. "Herr Habermann, you had something to say to me?" "Yes--yes--" replied the farmer, like a man who has been under torture, coming again to his senses. "Yes, I was going to ask you to put up to auction the few things I have a right to keep back,--the bed and the other things." "Willingly; but the household furniture has sold badly, the people have no money, and if you wish to dispose of anything you would do better at private sale." "I have not time for that, and I need the money." "Then if you wish it, I will offer the goods at auction," and the man went back to his business. "Habermann," said Farmer Grot, who came with the company on horseback, "you are so lonely here, in your misfortunes; come home with me, you and your little girl, and stay awhile with us, my wife will be right glad----" "I thank you much for the good will; but I cannot go, I have still something to do here." "Habermann," said farmer Hartmann, "you mean the funeral of your good wife. When do you bury her? We will all come together, to do her this last honor." "For that I thank you too; but I cannot receive you as would be proper, and by this time I have learned that one must cut his coat according to his cloth." "Old friend, my dear old neighbor and countryman," said Inspector Wienk, and clapped him on the shoulder, "do not yield to discouragement! things will go better with you yet."