side, and think to give it .value by having it
set as a ring. The caprice of keeping them
company for a day might be pardonable. It was
the whim of one who is, above all, a student of
mankind. But why continue the companionship?
A little more of such intimacy, and who
is to say what I may not imbibe of their habits
and their natures; and Potts, the man of sentiment,
the child of impulse, romance, and poetry,
become a slave of the " Ring"—- a saltimbanque!
Now, though I could implicitly rely upon the
rigidity of my joints to prevent the possibility
of my ever displaying any feats of agility, I
could yet picture myself in a long-tailed blue
coat and jack-boots walking round and round in
the sawdust circle, with four or five other
creatures of the same sort, and who have no
consciousness of any function till they are made the
butt of some extempore drollery by the clown.

The creative temperament has this great
disadvantage, that one cannot always build castles,
but must occasionally construct hovels, and
sometimes even dungeons and gaols; and here
was I now, with a large contract order for this
species of edifice, and certainly I set to work
with a will. The impatience of my mind
communicated itself to my gait, and I walked along
at a tremendous rate.

"I can scarcely keep up with you at this
pace," said Tintefleck; " and see, we have left
poor Vaterchen a long way behind."

I made some rude answer—I know not what
—and told her to come on.

"I will not leave him," said she, coming to a
halt, and standing in a composed and firm
atitude before me.

"Then I will!" said I, angrily. "Farewell!"
And waving my hand in a careless
adieu, I walked briskly onward, not even turning
a look on her as I went. I think I'm almost
certain I heard a heavy sob close behind me,
but I would not look round for worlds. I was
in one of those moods— all weak men know them
well—when a harsh or an ungracious act appears
something very daring and courageous. The
very pain my conduct gave myself persuaded
me that it must be heroic, just as a devotee is
satisfied after a severe self-castigation.

"Yes, Potts," said I, " you are doing the
right thing here. A little more of such
asociation as this, and you would be little better
than themselves, Besides, and above all, you
ought to be ' real.' Now, these are not real any
more than the tinsel gems and tinfoil splendours
they wear on their tunics." It broke on me,
too, like a sudden light, that to be the
fictitious Potts, the many-sided, many-tinted
—what a German would call "der mit-viele-
farben bedeckte Potts"—I ought to be
immensely rich, all my changes of character
requiring great resources and unlimited
"properties," as stage folk call them; whereas,
"der echte wahrhaftige mann Potts" might be
as poor as Lazarus. Indeed, the poorer the
more real, since more natural.

"While I thus speculated, I caught sight of a
man scaling one of the precipitous paths by
which the winding road was shortened for foot
travellers; a second glance showed me that this
was Harper, who, with a heavy knapsack, was
toiling along. I made a great effort to come
up with him, but when I reached the high road
he was still a long distance in front of me. I
could not, if there had been any one to question
me, say why I wished to overtake him. It was
a sort of chase suggested simply by the object
in front; rare type, if we but knew it, of one
half the pursuits we follow throughout life.

As I mounted the last of these by-paths which
led to the crest of the mountain, I felt certain
that, with a lighter equipment I should come up
with him; but scarcely had I gained the top,
than I saw him striding away vigorously on the
road fully a mile away beneath me. " He shall
not beat me," said I; and I increased my speed.
It was all in vain. I could not do it; and
when I drew nigh Lindau at last, very weary
and footsore, the sun was just sinking on the
western shore of the lake.

"Which is the best inn here?" asked I of a
shopkeeper who was lounging carelessly at his
door.

"Yonder," said he, " where you see that
post-carriage turning into."

"To-night," said I, " I will be guilty of an
extravagance. I will treat myself to a good
supper, and an honest glass of wine." And on
these hospitable thoughts intent I unslung my
knapsack, and, throwing as much of distinction
as I could into my manner, strolled into the
public room.

So busied was the household in attending
to the travellers who arrived "extra
post," that none condescended to notice me,
till at last, as the tumult subsided, a venerable
old waiter approached me, and said, in a half
friendly, half rebukeful tone, " It is at the
Swan you ought to be, my friend; the next
turning but two to the left hand, and you'll see
the blue lantern over the gateway."

"I mean to remain where I am," said I,
imperiously, " and to remember your impertinence
when I am about to pay my bill. Bring
me the ' carte.'"

I was overjoyed to see the confusion and
shame of the old fellow. He saw at once the
grievous error he had committed, and was so
overwhelmed, that he could not reply.
Meanwhile, with all the painstaking accuracy of a
practised gourmand, I was making a careful
note of what I wished for supper.

"Are you not ashamed," said I, rebukefully,
"to have ortolans here, when you know in your
heart they are swallows?"

He was so abject that he could only give a
melancholy smile, as though to say, " Be merciful,
and spare us!"

"Bohemian pheasant, too— come, come, this
is too bad! Be frank and confess; how often
has that one speckled tail done duty on a capon
of your own raising?"

"Gracious Herr!" muttered he, "do not
crush us altogether."

I don't think that he said this in actual words,