the Suabian not long before, and swore eternal faith and unending affection, and agreed most solemnly, no matter how the affair of the race should terminate, to marry and become man and wife. In the meanwhile news of the curious undertaking of the three combmakers had spread throughout the town, and the master himself had not a little aided in this, for the whole matter appealed strongly to his sense of humor. And hence all the people of Seldwyla rejoiced in advance at the prospect of a spectacle so novel and unconventional. They were eager to see the three journeymen arrive out of breath and in complete disarray, and laughed heartily in anticipation of the fun they counted on. Gradually a vast throng had assembled outside the town gate, impatient to see the arrival. On both sides of the highroad the curious people were seated at the edge of the trenches, just as if professional runners were expected. The small boys climbed into the tops of trees, while their elders sat on the grass and smoked their pipe, quite content that such an amusement had been provided for them. Even the dignitaries of Seldwyla had not scorned to put in their appearance, sat in the taverns by the wayside and discoursed of the chances of each of the three, and making a number of not inconsiderable wagers as to the final result. In those streets which the runners had to pass on their way to the goal all the windows had been thrown open, the wives had placed in their parlors on the window ledges pretty vari-colored cushions, to rest their arms upon, and had received numerous visits from the ladies of their acquaintance, so that coffee and cake was hospitably provided for them all, and even the maid servants were in a holiday mood, being sent to bakers and confectioners for goodies of every description with which to entertain the guests. All of a sudden the little fellows keenly watching from out of their leafy domes dimly saw in the distance tiny dust clouds approaching, and they set up the cry: "Here they're coming! They're coming!" And indeed, not long thereafter were seen Jobst and Fridolin rushing past, each wrapped in his own hazy column of dust, in the middle of the road. With the one hand they were pulling their valises on wheels each by himself, these rattling over the cobblestones with a noise like drumbeats, and with the other they held on tight to their heavy hats, these having slid down their necks, and their long dusters and coats were flying in the breeze. Both of the rivals were covered thickly with dust, almost unrecognizable; they had their mouths wide open and were yapping for breath; they saw and heard nothing that transpired around them, and thick tears were slowly rolling down their faces, there being no time to wipe them away, and these tears had dug paths in criss-cross fashion in the grime on their countenances.