AUNT CLARA. Now where are you to serve? And where is the coachman to serve? You haven't forgotten? LENE. I am to serve on the right and the coachman on the left. Is that right? AUNT CLARA. Yes, you may go! And don't forget, all serving is to be done by way of the green room! Be sure not to come in from this side! [LENE goes off.] [AUNT CLARA retires to the background, where she is occupied for some time, without being very much in evidence. The door at the right is opened.] PAUL (still hidden to view). Come in, ladies and gentlemen! In this way! (VON TIEDEMANN, MRS. VON TIEDEMANN, DR. BODENSTEIN, RAABE, father and son, MERTENS, KUNZE, MRS. BOROWSKI, SCHNAASE, MRS. SCHNAASE, JOSUPEIT, LICENTIATE SCHROCK and others enter and dispose themselves in groups before and behind the Oleanders.) RAABE, SR. (puts his hand up to his side). I don't know, but that cemetery put a stitch into my side. SCHNAASE. Yes, that was a nasty, cold snow. If we only get something to eat soon!... So we can warm up! VON TIEDEMANN. Ought to be a bit careful of yourself at your age, Mr. Raabe! RAABE. Why, how old _am_ I? Seventy! VON TIEDEMANN. Not worth mentioning, eh? Prime of life!... How old _was_ Warkentin? SCHNAASE. Why we just heard about that in the sermon, sixty-two! VON TIEDEMANN. Not very old! RAABE. Yes, that's the way they go ... SCHNAASE. To the grand army, eh Raabe, old boy? Who knows when we will get our orders. RAABE. It will be our turn next. VON TIEDEMANN. Don't say that! It is not a matter of age! Look at Warkentin, did he give evidence of his end? SCHNAASE. The affair with his son put him over, or he would be here today. VON TIEDEMANN (looks around). Why, where is the young man? SCHNAASE. Pretty nice fellow in other respects! VON TIEDEMANN. He will have a deuce of a time if he intends to farm here. You can't pick that up helter skelter. Has any one heard? Does he intend to take it on? Or is he going to sell? [He turns toward the rear. Meanwhile ANTOINETTE, PAUL, AND GLYSZINSKI have entered from the right and have joined a group of guests in the background.] RAABE. In the old days the son always followed in the footsteps of his father. The son of a land-owner became a land-owner. That's all out of style now. Everybody goes to school. SCHNAASE. Well, your son is doing that very thing, Raabe. RAABE, JR. (has come forward). Good morning, Mr. Schnaase! SCHNAASE. Good morning, brother student! RAABE, JR. Well, pa? RAABE. Well, my son? SCHNAASE. Keeping right after beerology, young man? RAABE, JR. Purty well, thanks! A fellow guzzles his way through. SCHNAASE. How many semesters does this make, Mr. Raabe? RAABE, JR. Mebbie you'd better not ask about that. RAABE. How many semesters? Twelve! Isn't that it, my son? RAABE, JR. Astoundingly correct! SCHNAASE. Then I suppose you'll tackle the examinations one of these days, Mr. Raabe? RAABE, JR. There's plenty of time.