“But, Heaven preserve us, what is the matter with you to-day, Vicar?” said Aunt Rosmarin. “How so?” queried the Vicar, putting his hands in all of his pockets in a vain search for a handkerchief with which to wipe the perspiration from his brow. “It’s very likely you have your wig in your pocket,” said Auntie, “for your handkerchief is on your head.” “On my head,” exclaimed the Vicar in surprise, and putting his hand there he found it. “I shouldn’t be greatly surprised if you were right, Auntie; it’s a hot, hot day; the sun was burning, my back was burning; I came from town, so I took off my wig to cool my head, spread my handkerchief over the latter, and lay down in a corn-field.” Again he began to search his pockets, while Susie made room for him on the sofa, and went out to get him a refreshing drink of water and raspberry syrup. “What are you looking for, Vicar?” asked Auntie. “If I mistake not, I brought a letter for you from town; but what has become of it is more than I can tell. I think it is from the Burgomaster. Seek and ye shall find.” “But, Vicar, first of all, put on your wig--this is very indecent. It is an insult to your congregation to walk about bald-headed.” “I should hope not. But in that case I trust that there would be bears to obey me, like the prophet Elisha, and devour all bad boys who would make bold to have a laugh at me. But, _ad vocem_, my wig, Auntie; what did you do with it?” “What did I do with it? You did not entrust it to my keeping. Perhaps you lost it on the way!” “Heaven preserve us! It was my best wig. You are right, Auntie; it is lying in the grass, together with the Burgomaster’s letter, precisely on the spot where I myself lay a quarter of an hour ago, in the shadow of the corn.” Auntie seized her bell. The maid appeared; the Inspector was called, and ordered to send for the wig and the letter--as quick as possible. Auntie was quite as impatient to hide the Vicar’s baldness as to read the Burgomaster’s letter. The shape of the wig, as well as colour and address of the letter, were explicitly described to the Inspector, and he forthwith sent two grooms, four threshers, and one dairy-boy out upon all roads, footpaths, and byways that run between Nieder-Fahren and Waiblingen. He stationed himself upon the hill by the wind-mill and reconnoitred the field of action through a telescope. Such excellent arrangements could not fail to bring about the desired result. In half-an-hour the seven messengers returned to the house led by the wig, the letter, and the Inspector. Sure enough the letter was from the Burgomaster. It contained nothing less than a formal invitation to the Frau Obersteuerrätin, together with her brother and Fräulein Susie and the Inspector Säblein, to the wedding of the Burgomaster’s eldest daughter.