are under water four years out of five and bear nothing but crow's foot, such weather will do them good. And it will do Lena good too; she can stay out of doors more; she is growing too pale to suit me."

Meanwhile Lena had drawn up a wooden chair near her old mother, because she knew that this was Baron Botho's favorite place; but Frau Dörr, who was fully impressed with the idea that a Baron must occupy the seat of honor, had meanwhile risen, and with the blue fleecy mass trailing after her, she called out to her stepson: "Will you get up! I say, now. If there is nothing in him, it's no use to expect anything from him." The poor boy stood up, all stupid and sleepy and was going to give up his seat, but the Baron would not allow it. "For heaven's sake, dear Frau Dörr, leave the poor boy alone. I would far rather sit on a bench, like my friend Dörr here."

And therewith he pushed the chair, which Lena still had ready for him, beside the old mother and said as he sat down:

"Here beside Frau Nimptsch is the best place. I know of no other fireplace that I am as fond of; there is always fire, always warmth. Yes, Mutterchen, that is true, this is the best place.'

"Oh my soul," said the old woman. "This is the best place! In an old washerwoman's house."

"Certainly. And why not? Every class and calling is worthy of respect. And a washerwoman too

Do you know, Mutterchen, that here in Berlin there was a famous poet who wrote a poem about his old washerwoman?" "Is it possible?"

"Of course it is possible. Moreover it is true. And do you know what he said at the end? He said that he wished he could live and die like his old washerwoman. Yes, that is what he said."

"Is it possible?" said the old woman to herself once more, simpering a little.

"And do you know, Mutterchen, now don't you forget it, he was quite right, and I say the very same? Oh yes, you laugh to yourself. But just look about you here. How do you live? Like the good Lord in France. In the first place,

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you have your house and hearth, and then the garden and Frau Dörr. And then you have Lena. Haven't you? But what has become of her?"

He would have gone on talking, but just then Lena came in with a tray, on which was a carafe of water and some cider, for which the Baron had a preference not easily to be understood, but for his belief in its wonderful curative properties.

"Why Lena, how you spoil me. But you should not offer it to me so formally. It seems just as if I were at the club. You must bring it to me in your hand, it tastes best that way. And now give me your little hand, and let me stroke it. No, no, the left one; that is nearest the heart. And now sit right there, between Herr and Frau Dörr, so that you will be opposite me and I can see you all the time. I have been happy all day, looking forward to this time.”

Lena laughed.

"Perhaps you don't believe it? But I can prove it to you, Lena, for I have brought you something from the fine party that we had yesterday. And when one has a little present to bring, he always feels happy about the girl who is to receive it. Isn't that so, my dear Dörr?"

Dörr grinned, but Frau Dörr said: "Lord, he? He bring presents? Dörr is all for scraping and saving. That is the way with gardeners. But I am curious to see what the Herr Baron has brought."

"Well, then I will not keep you waiting any longer, or else dear Frau Dörr might think I have brought a golden slipper or some such thing out of a fairy story. But this is all it is."

And therewith he gave Lena a paper bag, from which, unless all signs failed, the fringed ends of some snapping bonbons peeped out.

They proved to be snapping bonbons and the bag was passed around.

"But now we must pull one, Lena. Hold on tight and shut your eyes."

Frau Dörr was delighted when the cracker snapped, and still more so when Lena's forefinger began to bleed. "That doesn't hurt, Lena, I know it doesn't. It is just like a

bride who pricks her finger. I used to know one who was so crazy about it, that she kept pricking herself and sucked and sucked, as if it were something wonderful.

on:

Lena blushed. But Frau Dörr did not notice and went "And now read the verse, Herr Baron."

And this is what he read:

When two forget themselves for love,

God and the angels rejoice above.

"Heavens," said Frau Dörr, folding her hands. "That is just like something out of a song book. Is the verse always so pious?"

"I hope not," said Botho. "Not always. Come, dear Frau Dörr, let us pull one and see what we shall get out of it." And then he pulled again and read:

Where Love's dart has struck well,
Wide open stand both heaven and hell.

"Now, Frau Dörr, what do you say to that? It sounds different, doesn't it?"

"Yes," said Frau Dörr, "it sounds different. But I don't quite like it. . . . If I pull a bonbon. . . ."

"Well?"

"Then I don't want anything about hell to come out, I don't want to hear that there is any such thing."

"Nor I either,' laughed Lena. "Frau Dörr is quite right: for that matter, she is always right. But really, when one reads such a verse, one has always something to start with, I mean to begin a conversation with, for the beginning is always the hardest, just as it is with writing letters. And I simply cannot imagine how you can begin a conversation at once with no more ado, with so many strange ladies, for you are not all acquainted with each other."

"Oh, my dear Lena," said Botho, "it isn't so hard as you think. It is really quite easy. If you like, I will give you a dinner-table conversation now."

Frau Dörr and Frau Nimptsch said that they would like to hear it and Lena too nodded her assent.

"Now," went on Baron Botho, "you must imagine that you are a little Countess. And I have just escorted you to the

table and sat down and we are taking the first spoonful of soup."

"Very well. But what now?"

"And now I say to you: 'If I am not mistaken, I saw you yesterday at the flower show, you and your mother together. It is not surprising. The weather entices us out every day now and we might almost say that it is fit for travelling. Have you made any plans for the summer, Countess?' And now you answer, that unfortunately nothing is settled yet, because your papa is determined to go to Bavaria, while your dearest wish is to see Saxon Switzerland with the Königstein and the Bastei."

"It really is," laughed Lena.

Le recommeYou see, that goes very well. And then I go on: 'Yes,

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gracious Countess, in that we share the same tastes. I prefer Saxon Switzerland to any other part of the world, even to the actual Switzerland itself. One cannot always revel in the grander aspects of nature, and clamber and get out of breath all the time. But Saxon Switzerland! Heavenly, ideal. There is Dresden; in a quarter or a half hour I can be there, and I can see pictures, the theatre, the great gardens, the Zwinger, and the green vault. Do not neglect to see the tankard with the foolish virgins, and above all things that cherry stone, on which the whole of the Lord's prayer is carved. It can only be seen through the magnifying glass.'"

"So that is the way you talk!"

"Exactly, my darling. And when I have paid sufficient attention to my left-hand neighbor, that is, the Countess Lena, I turn to my right-hand neighbor, that is, to Madame the Baroness Dörr. .

Frau Dörr was so delighted that she slapped her knee with a loud noise. . . .

"So I am to converse with Madame the Baroness Dörr? And what shall we talk about? Well, say we talk about mushrooms."

"But, great heavens, mushrooms. Herr Baron, that would never do."

About mushrooms,

"Oh why not, why shouldn't it do, dear Frau Dörr? That is a very serious and instructive subject and is more impor

tant than you think. I once visited a friend in Poland, a comrade in my regiment and also during the war, who lived in a great castle; it was red and had two huge towers, and was so fearfully old, that you never see anything like it nowadays. And the last room was his living room; for he was unmarried, because he was a woman hater.

"Is it possible?"

"And everywhere the old rotten boards were trodden through and wherever there were a couple of boards lacking, there was a mushroom bed, and I passed by all the mushroom beds, until at last I came to his room."

"Is it possible?" repeated Frau Dörr and added: "Mushrooms! But one cannot always be talking about mushrooms." "No, not always. But really quite often, and anyway it makes no difference what you talk about. If it isn't mush rooms it is 'champignons,' and if it is not the red castle in Poland it is Schloss Tegel or Saatwinkel, or Valentinswerder. Or Italy or Paris, or the city railway, or whether the Panke should be filled in. It is all the same. One can always talk a little about anything, whether it is especially pleasing or not. And 'yes' is just as good as 'no.''

"But," said Lena, "if all the talk is so empty, I am sur-\ prised that you should go into such company.

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"Oh you see beautiful women and handsome gowns and eng

sometimes you catch glances that will betray a whole romance, if you look sharp. And anyway, it does not last long, so that you still have a chance to make up for lost time at the club. And at the club it is really charming, for there the artificial talk ceases and reality begins. Yesterday I took Pitt's black mare from him."

"Who is Pitt?"

"Oh, those are just names that we have among ourselves, and we use them when we are together. The Crown Prince himself says Vicky, in speaking of Victoria. It really is pleasant that there are such affectionate pet names. But listen, the concert is beginning over there. Can't we open the windows, so as to hear it better? You are already tapping with your foot. How would it do for us to take our places and try a Quadrille or a Française? We have three couples: Father Dörr and good Frau Nimptsch, and

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