She laid a thaler in his hand, and hoped that now he would leave her in peace. But no, Joching stood quite still, and held his hand up to his face, and gave a furtive peep at it again and again, as if this were the first and only thaler he had ever seen. “Why do you stand there? What is it you are waiting for?” the lady asked, at last struck by his manner. “Your difficulties are all straightened now.” “Nay,” said good Joching doubtfully, “this is but one; the tart alone cost three.” _Fritz Reuter._ _THE HIGHER ALTRUISM._ “GOOD morning to you, apothecary. Tell me now, do you know of aught that’s good for headache day?” [Illustration: “SMELL OF THIS BOTTLE AS HARD AS E’ER YOU CAN.”] “My lad, it is a sore complaint that; one of the worst of ills that flesh is heir to. Well, sit you down a bit. Are you from the manor?” “Yes, sir; I’m one of the farm-servants there.” “And do the headache days come often?” “Well, no, but when they do they come bad.” “We’ll soon manage them, my lad. Come here now, and first shut both your eyes. There, that is right. Now, quick; smell of this bottle as hard as e’er you can.” The fellow did precisely as he said. First shut his eyes and smelled right heartily of what was in the bottle; and with a heavy thud he fell from off his chair. And as he was beginning to come to, says the apothecary, “Now, my lad, tell me is your headache day now gone?” “Oh, sir, it’s not of me that I was talking. It’s our young lady has her headache day.” _Fritz Reuter._ _MY PICTURES._[7] SO I took to painting, and particularly to making portraits. My old friend G---- was the first to have his turn. I sketched him from the right and from the left, from the front and from the back, in lead-pencil and in black crayon, and then in colours, once with a sky-blue background, once with clouds wrapped about him, and once in a lovely pink light, as if the sun were setting. That piece made me a lot of trouble, and when it was done it didn’t look like it. When G. was used up it was the Herr Inspector’s turn. The likeness was to be for his betrothed, so I had to idealise him a bit, and put a pleasant and winning expression on him. It was hard enough, but I fetched it at last. As good luck would have it, he had a long nose, which is always a piece of luck for a beginner. I seized him by that, and when I had it, all the rest had to come after whether it would or no. But how about the pleasantness and the winning expression? I managed that beautifully; I screwed up his eyes a bit, puffed out his cheeks in one place, pulled up the corners of his mouth a quarter of an inch, and made a couple of regular little folds there, so that it looked like a button-hole that a careful tailor has fastened well at the right and left. [Illustration: “AS GOOD LUCK WOULD HAVE IT, HE HAD A LONG NOSE.”]