"Ten years old--fine boy--just like me--bringing him up like his father," said the strange individual. "If he turns out like his father, he'll be a beauty," thought my ancestor. Then he asked aloud of his host: "And what profession may that be that you wish to apprentice him to?" "Like his father," was the curt reply; but it was followed by the same sort of expressive gesture that I have just described. "What!" exclaimed the student, "to cut off people's heads?" "Yes," replied the ruffian; "I am a Scharfrichter." "A what?" inquired my ancestor, who though he could make himself generally understood in German, had never yet come across the word "Scharfrichter" in his vocabulary. "A Scharfrichter," repeated the man, raising his voice. "Don't you know what that means? Why, one who cuts off heads." "An executioner!" muttered the foreigner, half-aloud. "Have I been constrained to crave the hospitality of an executioner?" These words were inaudible to his host, but the ruffian evidently observed a change in his guest's countenance when he informed him of the nature of his profession, for he hastened to reply. "One sees at once that you are a foreigner, and unused to the customs of this country. You shudder at meeting an executioner, and sicken at the thought of cutting off a head. No matter, it is always so at first. In fact, the pleasure derived from seeing executions is an acquired taste; but I'll show you some sport to-morrow. There is to be some rare fun down at the township at daybreak," and the wretch gave another wink and a chuckle. "I'll show you how to cut off a head. One blow--click!--cuts like cheese." "Horrible being!" muttered my ancestor to himself in his native tongue. "Is it possible that anything human can actually revel in such brutality?" and he shuddered in spite of himself. Then he said aloud to his host-- "What was it that first gave you a taste for so horrible a profession?" "Hm! I hardly know. I had a natural genius for it, I suppose. My father was a butcher, and I was brought up from infancy to see cattle slaughtered. At a very early age I took to slaughtering the animals myself. I seemed to take a liking to it from the very beginning. I happened to have an uncle at that time who was a Scharfrichter, and my greatest delight was to see him cut off the heads of the criminals. I began to long to do the same. "I was a very young man when this uncle died, and as he had no male issue to take his place, and no one else seemed to come forward, I thought I would offer my services, and they were accepted. I have been headsman of the town these thirty years, and when I die my son will step into my shoes." "But if he doesn't take to it?" "He _must_ take to it--he'll _have_ to take to it." "Why, are there not many other noble professions just as inviting as that of chopping off the heads of one's fellow-mortals?"