Rand appeared. “This will be a good one.” “Run and let Halsband out of prison,” said his Highness. “And,” said the Konrektor, “give me pen and ink, and some paper.” “Here is paper and pen; but our ink is dried up. We’re not much given to writing, except when the cashier is here.” “That’s a fact,” said his Highness. “Mercy on us! Go and buy some ink immediately.” The ink came, and the Konrektor wrote. “Good gracious,” said his Highness to himself, “how can the fellow write in this storm!” The Konrektor got him to sign it. “Don’t you feel a vast deal better,” he said, “after this good deed?” “Not a bit of it,” said his Highness; “first the storm must be over.” The sky was clearing. Rand’s head appeared again. “Now it’s all over; the baker’s wife says we had seven storms.” His Highness took breath once more, and said to himself, “Seven storms! And he knew it before, the insolent old fellow, with his confounded speeches! What becomes of the deference due to the prince from his subject, I’d like to know? But I can’t do without him; he’s too well posted about the weather.” _Fritz Reuter._ _THE LIEUTENANT’S DINNER._ COMING home to his bachelor quarters one day, Lieutenant Karfunkelstein found a note of invitation upon his library table. As he took it up and examined it, his chagrin was almost too great for his dignified self-possession. Frau von Diamant was known all over the town for her good dinners, and he, poor fellow, had orders to march in an hour. Moreover, to aggravate matters, the widow was the lady of his heart. He would have liked nothing better than to spend an hour or two in her company, and have the added gratification of dining most sumptuously. But there was no help for it. Love and hunger must both be set aside as a malignant fate had decreed. He must march, and no amount of railing at destiny would improve matters, however it might ease his much-enduring temper. So he called his man Joching, and entrusted to him his painful message of regrets to the widow. “And Joching, are you sure you understand?” “To be sure I do, sir!” replied good Joching dutifully, departing therewith on his errand. It occurred to the lieutenant then that before his march he might partake of a meal to be sent from his hotel. Opening the window hastily, he called after the departing Joching, “When you come back bring my dinner with you.” And Joching reached the lady’s house. “Well, Joching, what have you to tell me?” “Best compliments from my master to your gracious ladyship. And as for the Herr Lieutenant, he cannot come to dine to-day, for in little more than an hour the troop must march to Woldegk.” “Ah, what a shame. I’m sorely grieved!”