The formation of the orchestra was entrusted to an unknown composer, who, it was said, had the manuscript of four operas lying in his work-room. One of them was always absent, and wandered about amongst the different German general-managers, from whom, however, it always returned home safely, like Noah's dove to the ark, certainly without an olive or laurel branch; then the next manuscript commenced its wanderings with similar result. Happily the composer, in addition to his talents and his scores, still possessed a few hundred thousand dollars, so that society could pardon his musical tendencies and performances. Long since he had bought himself a superb _bâton_ in order one day to conduct one of his operas. With this magic staff in his pocket, Müller von Stallupönen, as he called himself, in order to be distinguished from other celebrated Müllers, ran about that day to make the necessary arrangements, his long hair fluttering in the breeze, which blew from off the East Sea. In spite of this cooling element, he was obliged to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, because it was a toilsome labour to obtain an equal temperature of disposition in all the coadjutors, and similarity of views about the pieces of music to be performed. The violoncellist as future diplomatist, supported him therein with valuable assistance. The little doctor proved to be the most obdurate, he maintained his opinion immovably as though it were some consultation beside a sick-bed. A mixed choral song was also contemplated. In that the fair sex must be especially begged for their co-operation, so as to give a graceful counter-balance to the rough, beery student voices of a few lawyers. The conductor moved about in most amiable _gracioso_ from one seaside beauty to another, after having first brushed into order his hair which had been blown about by the sea-breeze. Although this amendment only remained effectual for a short time, still he appeared to advantage before the natural _coiffures_ of most of the land-nymphs who allowed their loosened plaits, which had been dipped in the ocean's waves, to hang down their shoulders to dry. Both the Fräuleins von Dornau, of whom Olga had an imposing alto, Cäcilie a brilliant soprano voice at their disposal, had already made the musical agent happy with their consent, and his next move was to the Baute family, where he might hope for a rich musical harvest amongst the seven daughters.