If he had not paid his architect, the carpenters, and the masons cash down, it would have been declared that he was ruining himself. But he never wanted a penny; and his solicitor always addressed him with a smiling face, raising his hat from afar off, and calling him "my dear Monsieur Weber." One single thing vexed George: he had requested at the prefecture, as soon as he arrived, a license to open his public-house at the sign of "The Pineapple." He had even written three letters to Sarrebourg, but had received no answer. Morning and evening, seeing me pass by with my carts of grain and flour, he called to me through the window, "Hallo, Christian, this way just a minute!" He never talked of anything else; he even came to tease me at the mayoralty-house, to indorse and seal his letters with attestations as to his good life and character; and yet no answer came. One evening, as I was busy signing the registration of the reports drawn up in the week by the school-master, he came in and said, "Nothing yet?" "Cousin, I don't know the meaning of it." "Very well," said he, sitting before my desk. "Give me some paper. Let me write for once, and then we will see." He was pale with excitement, and began to write, reading it as he went on: "MONSIEUR LE SOUS-PREFET,--I have requested of you a license to open a public-house at Rothalp. I have even had the honor of writing you three letters upon the subject, and you have given me no answer. Answer me--yes or no! When people are paid, and well paid, they ought to fulfil their duty. "Monsieur le Sous-prefet, I have the honor to salute you. "GEORGE WEBER, "_Late Sergeant of Marines._" Hearing this letter, my hair positively stood on end. "Cousin, don't send that," said I; "the sous-prefet would very likely put you under arrest." "Pooh!" said he, "you country people, you seem to look upon these folks as if they were demi-gods; yet they live upon our money. It is we who pay them: they are for our service, and nothing more. Here, Christian, will you put your seal to that?" Then, in spite of all that my wife might say, I replied, "George, for the love of Heaven, don't ask me that. I should most assuredly lose my place." "What place? Your place as mayor," said he, "in which you receive the commands of the sous-prefet, who receives the commands of the prefet, who receives the orders of a Minister, who does everything that our _honest man_ bids him. I had rather be a ragman than fill such a place." The school-master, who happened to be there, seemed as if he had suddenly dropped from the clouds; his arms hung down the sides of his chair, and he gazed at my cousin with big eyes, just as a man stares at a dangerous lunatic. I, too, was sitting upon thorns on hearing such words as these in the mayoralty-house; but at last I told him I had rather go myself to Sarrebourg and ask for the permission than seal that letter. "Then we will go together," said he.