Joggeli did not want the conversation to continue and took Johannes around through stables and granary, as long as it was light. He asked for advice and got it, but Johannes would praise nothing. Of the calves he said that they ought to be looked to, for they had lice; and of the sheep that they were too cramped for room, that they would squeeze each other and the lambs would be ruined. For the rest, the inspection was made in silence. On the way back they found Uli standing gloomily in the front shed and took him in with them; but he remained down-cast the whole evening--indeed on the verge of tears whenever any one spoke to him. On the following morning Johannes made ready for his return, after having had to eat beyond his capacity and drink a nip of brandy on top of it, although he said he never did so in the morning. Uli almost clung to his coat like a child that fears its father will run away from it; and when he started to give him his hand, Uli said he would drive a piece with him if he might; he didn't know when he should see him again. "And how do you like it?" asked Johannes, as soon as they were away from the house. "Oh, master, I can't tell you how I feel. I've been in a lot of places, but I never saw anything like that. So help me God, there's no order in the place anywhere. The liquid manure runs into the stable; they've never cleaned out the dung properly, the horses' hind feet are higher than the forefeet; half the grain is in the straw; the loft is like a pig-sty; the tools aren't fit to be seen. The men all look at me as if they'd like to eat me. Either they give me no answer, or they give me impudent ones, so that I feel as if I'd have to punch their heads."