"By accident. I could not obtain a dog in the village to-day; but as I was returning through the wood the horses suddenly shied and would not move on. While the coachman was handling them, I all at once perceived near the carriage a large dark man, standing as if he had sprung out of the ground. He was holding the two dogs by a rope, and laughed jeeringly at the abuse of the coachman. 'What is the matter?' I called out to him; 'where are you taking the dogs to?' 'To whosoever wishes to have them,' said the black fellow. 'Lift them into the carriage,' said I. 'I shall do nothing of the sort,' growled the stranger; 'you must fetch them yourself.' I descended and asked him what he wanted for them. He replied 'Nothing.' The matter looked suspicious, but I thought it would be no harm to try them. I lifted the beasts into the carriage; and found them as quiet as lambs. 'What are their names?' I cried out from the carriage. 'Braeuhahn and Goslar,' said the man, laughing fiendishly." "But they are no dogs' names, Mr. Hummel," interposed Gabriel, shaking his head. "That was what I told the man, but he replied, 'they never suffered babtism.' 'But the rope is yours,' I said; and only think, Gabriel, this black fellow answered me: 'Keep it; and hang yourself with it.' I wanted to throw the dogs out of the carriage again, but the man had vanished into the wood like a will-o'-the-wisp." "That is a dreadful story," said Gabriel, much troubled; "these dogs have been raised in no Christian household. And do you really intend to keep the ill-omened creatures?" "I shall make the attempt," said Mr. Hummel. "After all, a dog is a dog." "Be on your guard, Mr. Hummel, there is something mysterious in these beasts." "Nonsense!" "They are monsters," continued Gabriel, counting on his fingers; "first, they have not the names of earthly dogs; secondly, they were offered without money; thirdly, no man knows what food they eat." "As to their appetite, you will not have to wait long to discover what that is," replied the master of the house. Gabriel drew a bit of bread out of his pocket, and the dogs snapped at it. "In that regard they are of the right species," he said, a little tranquillized; "but what are they to be called in the house?" "Braeuhahn I shall call Fighthahn," replied Mr. Hummel; "and in my family no dogs shall be called Goslar. I cannot bear the beastly drink." He cast a hostile look at the neighboring house. "Other people have such stuff fetched every day across the street, but that is no reason why I should suffer such a word in my household. The black shall from this day forth be called Fight_hahn_ and the red Spite_hahn_--that is settled. "But, Mr. Hummel, these names are clearly offensive," exclaimed Gabriel; "that will make the matter worse." "That is my affair," said Mr. Hummel, decidedly. "At night they shall remain in the yard; they must guard the house."