While I strolled about, amusing myself with the strange sights and scenes around me, I suddenly came upon a sort of merry-go-round, where the performers, seated on small hobby-horses, tilted with a lance at a ring as they spun round, their successes or failures being hailed with cheers or with laughter from the spectators. To my intense astonishment, I might almost say shame, Hanserl was there! Mounted on a fiery little gray, with bloodshot eyes and a flowing tail, the old fellow seemed to have caught the spirit of his steed, for he stood up in his stirrups, and leaned forward with an eagerness that showed how he enjoyed the sport. Why was it that the spectacle so shocked me? Why was it that I shrunk back into the crowd, fearful that he might recognize me? Was it not well if the poor fellow could throw off, even for a passing moment, the weary drudgery of his daily life, and play the fool just for distraction' sake? All this I could have believed and accepted a short time before, and yet now a strange revulsion of feeling had come over me and I went away, well pleased that Hans had not seen nor claimed me. “These vulgar games don't amuse you,” said a voice at my side; and I turned and saw the merchant who, at the breakfast-table, invited me to his counting-house. “Not that,” said I; “but they seem strange and odd at a private entertainment I was scarce prepared to see them here.” “I suspect that is not exactly the reason,” said he, laughing. “I know something of your English tone of exclusiveness, and how each class of your people has its appropriate pleasures. You scorn to be amused in low company.” “You seem to forget my own condition, sir.” “Come, come,” said he, with a knowing look, “I am not so easily imposed upon, as I told you awhile back. I know England. Your ways and notions are all known to me. It is not in the place you occupy here young lads are found who speak three or four languages, and have hands that show as few signs of labor as yours. Mind,” said he, quickly, “I don't want to know your secret.” “If I had a secret, it is scarcely likely I 'd tell it to a stranger,” said I, haughtily. “Just so; you 'd know your man before you trusted him. Well, I 'm more generous, and I 'm going to trust you, whom I never saw till half an hour ago.” “Trust _me!_” “Trust you,” repeated he, slowly. “And first of all, what age would you give that young lady whose birthday we are celebrating?” “Seventeen--eighteen--perhaps nineteen.” “I thought you'd say so; she looks nineteen. Well, I can tell you her age to an hour. She is fifteen to-day.” “Fifteen!”