We recollect a winter, some years ago, that was particularly distinguished by these pranks. In the first place, one of the Chores set out a sledge procession, which was imposing from the number of its sledges and the brilliance of its torches, which were carried by the whole assembled body of Boot-foxes. But this was speedily cast into the shade by another. The second Chore celebrated a Bauer's wedding, riding and driving in numerous sledges, in the Sunday attire of Bauers and Bauerinen, the country people and their wives, old and young, masked, into a neighbouring village, the sledge of the feigned bride and bridegroom being richly garlanded, and there, this fictitious pair--a couple of disguised students--were solemnly conducted through the ceremony of a marriage. A third Chore then, in order to strike out something more piquant, undertook a voyage by land. A number of Neckar boats were secured on sledges. They were all bravely rigged and equipped with sails, masts, and cordage, and sailors were in full activity, each crew zealous to maintain the honour of their ship. Some of them were seen with huge spy-glasses looking out ahead in the streets, to descry any dangerous rocks that might lie in their track, which might obstruct or fatally terminate their voyage. And behold! all was suddenly at a stand--the sign of a Beer-Kneip was the rock on which they struck. All hands were now busy in trying to rescue the ship from this perilous situation, and the way they went to work was to blow it with a vast number of pairs of bellows, in order to send a very tempest of wind into the sails. The captain gave his commands, in masterly style, through his huge speaking-trumpet, and at length the vessel heaved off, and all was quickly again under sail, the whole body singing-- THE GALLANT SHIP IS GOING. The gallant ship is going, The strong east wind is blowing, The far-off fading strand Shows no longer, Yet glows stronger Love unto my native land. Billows dark blue foaming, Tell me, are ye coming From that dear distant strand? Let them flow then, Since they go then Back unto my native land! And as the billow breaks there, Love's heart and ear yet wakes there; O speed to her away! Kindly meet her, Kindly greet her? For of me you've much to say! Seas from thee may tear me, But my thoughts still bear me To thee in that dear land; What I sing now, Winds shall wing now, Till it reach that far-off strand.