As they crossed Ægydius Place he cast a glance of unbounded hatred at the house in which Daniel and Gertrude lived. But he did not say anything; he merely pinched his lips and hung his head. In so doing he noticed the grease spot on his coat, and emitted a vexed growl. “I will go along with you, Herr Apothecary, and get a bottle of benzine,” he said, turning to his companion. In his voice there was a noticeable trace of that reluctant and unwilling humility which the poor display in the presence of the rich. “Good, good,” he said, “come right along.” He blew the air before him; for he was warm. “Greetings, greetings,” he exclaimed, and waved his hand, “what are you doing here?” It was Herr Carovius to whom he spoke. Herr Carovius was just then standing by the fountain of the Goose Man, rapt in the sort of reflection that was peculiar to him. “At your service, gentlemen,” he said. “I see there are natives who study our native art,” remarked the apothecary with an ironical smile, and stopped. Jason Philip likewise stopped, and looked in a dazed, distraught way at the bronze man with the two geese. Some boys were playing ball close by the fountain. When they saw the three men looking at it, they quit playing, came up, and looked at the fountain and the men and grinned as if there were something new to be seen. “We have no idea what riches we possess,” said Herr Carovius. “Quite right, quite right,” nodded the apothecary. “I have just been trying to think what meaning this group may have,” continued Herr Carovius, “there is undeniably a musical motif in it.” “A musical motif?” murmured Jason Philip, to whom the very term music conveyed the idea of something unpleasant. “Yes, but you have got to understand it,” said Herr Carovius rather jauntily. With that he seized the ear of a small boy who had ventured right up to his trousers’ legs; the boy screamed. After casting an angry look at the monument, Jason Philip broke out in sudden and hearty laughter. “Now I understand,” he stammered as he coughed, “you are a fox, a sly old dodger.” “What do you mean, gentlemen?” asked the apothecary, who had become somewhat anxious, for he feared that this outburst of hilarity was directed at him. “Why, don’t you see? Don’t you understand?” panted Jason Philip with a scarlet red face, “the two geese—? The musical motif and the two geese—? Isn’t it clear yet?” It was clear to Herr Carovius. He stuck the index finger of his right hand in the air, and broke out in a neighing sort of laughter. Then he took the apothecary by the arm, and in the pauses between salvos of laughter he bleated: “Magnificent!—Under each arm a goose!—Priceless! Say, Herr Schimmelweis, that was good. We will allow you one on that.” The connection was now clear to the apothecary. He slapped himself on his hips and cried: “As sure as there is a devil, that’s the best joke I ever heard in my life.”