“Was there ever such ingratitude!” cried she; “and all this from a man who is deaf to all other delights when he can dine on baked chickens at the _Prater_!” When they were both seated in the chaise once more, and the road, after running through a flat stretch, began to fall again to where a laughing landscape unfolded, losing itself in the distant hill-lands, the Meister began again after a span of silence: “This world is truly beautiful, and no one is to be blamed for wishing to stay here as long as possible. Thank God, I feel as strong and hale as ever, and there are a thousand things I should like to be up to as soon as ever my new _opus_ is done and on the stage. How much there is out in the world and how much there is at home,--things remarkable and things beautiful, that I do not even know of, wonder-works of nature, science, art, and useful trades! The black collier-boy yonder knows just about as much as I do about some things, by my soul. I should like for the life of me to take a look into this, that, and the other thing, that doesn’t come within the narrow limits of my trade.” “The other day,” she answered, “I came across an old pocket calendar of yours; it was of ’85; there are three or four memoranda in it. One of them, under-scored, is: _Professor Gattner, to visit him_. Who is he?” “Yes, yes, I know--the kind old gentleman at the observatory, who has invited me there from time to time. I have always wished you and I could take a look at the moon and the man in it. They have a tremendous telescope up there now; they say it seems as if you could touch the mountains and valleys and rifts, and on the side where the sun doesn’t shine the shadows that the mountains cast. It’s two years now that I’ve wanted to see it, and I don’t manage to get around to it, ridiculous and shameful though it seems!” “Ah, well,” said she, “the moon won’t run away. There are many things we’ll make up for later. I have a presentiment.” “Out with it!” “I heard a little bird twitter that ere long the King of Prussia would need a _Capellmeister_.” “Oho!” “General Musical Director, I would say. Let me spin a dream! It is a weakness I have from my mother.” “Go ahead! the wilder the better!” “No, quite natural. First then take the time, a year from date----” “When the Pope marries Kate----” “Hush, you clown! I say a year from to-day there must be no such person as an Imperial composer named Wolf Mozart to be found within the walls of Vienna.” “Thank you kindly for that!” “I hear our old friends talking about us and our fortunes.” “Give us an example.”