_Fred._ Your pursuits and his are different, father. _Clar._ In our respective lines, I grant it. If his heart were not a stranger to us from other motives, he would, when his work is done, come and say,--Father! you build houses, and I build laws, that the people may live secure in those houses. I have been successful to day in my work, if God should prosper it; and how have you succeeded? Then I would talk to him of my good old timber, and complain of the young green wood; he might then tell me, how pleased he is with the old colleagues that share his toils, or complain of the young green ones.--Thus we might exchange toil and pleasure, complaint and consolation; spend a comfortable hour together, and derive mutual advantage from each other. But he does not choose to do that; and, if his conscience now and then happen to twitch him a little, he sends me money. Money! what is money to me? when have I ever wished for more than to live? (With vivacity.) His money is the only thing I dislike about him. _Fred._ Why so, father? _Clar._ Because he has not that great quantity of it--hem! there--there, may be enough of it for this time. The second thing: I do not like in you is to see you converse with that Counsellor Selling. What is the meaning of it? _Fred._ My brother entertains a high esteem for him. _Clar._ Not I. _Fred._ He is pleased to see him visit here. _Clar._ Not I. And then have you not Gernau, the Ranger, whom you like, and I too? _Fred._ Well, are you content if I manage so, that I may keep upon good terms with both? _Clar._ I have no objection. But mind, all fair! none of your book stories! (Looks at his watch,) Half past eleven; you will bring my dinner to the yard. _Fred._ Undoubtedly. [Exit. SCENE IV. Enter REISSMAN. _Reiss._ Aye, good morrow, Miss! Good morrow, Mr. Clarenbach! Well, how are you? _Clar._ At work, Sir! _Reiss._ So you have, _ex officio_, been appointed guardian of the poor orphans of Brunnig? _Clar._ Yes, Sir, these four days. _Reiss._ Aye, aye; it will prove a troublesome piece of business. Poor children! I pity them. _Clar._ So do I.--And, to tell you the truth, the valuable bequest of the old aunt ought to go to the children, and not to you; to whom, contrary to all right and equity, she has bequeathed her all. _Reiss._ Aye! Good heaven!--but then it is so in her will. _Clar._ True enough. But the law should not permit it. _Reiss._ A last will!--O Lord! that is a sacred thing. I pity the children, but-- _Clar._ I intend to try the validity of it. _Reiss._ Aye, aye? I have been told so. _Clar._ You ought to decline the bequest, Mr. Reissman. _Reiss._ But, what heaven has sent me-- _Clar._ The property of orphans! _Reiss._ You would not have me rob my child of the divine blessings which, without the least solicitation on my part, have devolved upon me from a strange person?