Debit and Credit Part 42

"That is indeed kind of you, Wohlfart," cried Specht, joyously.

"And we will not wait till the pumpkins have grown up; we will bring in a little green in the mean while."

"Very good; fir-trees, perhaps."

"Leave it to me," continued Anton; "and, after all, we won't exclude Pix, but invite him with the rest. That is a much better revenge, and worthy of your good heart."

"You think so?" inquired Specht, doubtfully.

"I am sure of it. I propose next Sunday evening; and will send out the invitations in our joint names."

"In writing," cried Specht, in ecstasy, "on pink paper."

"The very thing."

The clerks were not a little amazed the following morning at receiving smart-looking notes, laid by Mr. Specht himself, early in the morning, upon the desk of each, inviting them to see the pumpkins flower in his apartment. However, as Anton's name was at the bottom of the page, there was nothing for it but to accept. Meanwhile Anton took Sabine into his confidence, and begged from her ivy and flowers. Specht himself worked hard the remainder of the week, and on the day of the festival, with the help of the servant, he contrived to entwine the threads with green leaves, to procure a number of colored lamps, and to intermix with the leaves some triangular inventions of yellow paper, which were marvelously like the flowers of the pumpkin.

Thus the room really did present the aspect Mr. Specht had long seen in his day-dreams. The colleagues were exceedingly amazed. Mr. Pix was the last to enter, and could not suppress an exclamation of surprise when he saw the unlucky arbor positively overgrown and covered with yellow flowers, s.h.i.+ning in the colored lamp-light. The great flower-pots were filled with gay nosegays, a red lamp hung down from the centre, and on the rustic table was placed a large pumpkin. Anton would make the quartette sit in the arbor, and grouped the others around the room, the bed having been arranged with bolsters and cus.h.i.+ons so as to look like a second sofa.

When they were all settled, Specht approached the great pumpkin, and solemnly exclaimed, "You have long plagued me about pumpkins; here is my revenge." He took hold of the short stalk, and lifted away the other half. It was hollow. A bowl of punch stood within. The clerks laughed, and cried "Bravo!" while Specht filled the gla.s.ses.

Nevertheless, at first, there was a certain degree of estrangement visible between the host and his guests. True, the obnoxious word was never mentioned, but his propositions seldom found favor. When Anton went round dispensing a bundle of Turkish pipes, which he had bought while abroad for his colleagues, Specht proposed that they should all sit cross-legged on the sofas and on the floors, in true Turkish fas.h.i.+on. This proposal fell through. Also, when he next a.s.serted that, as our commerce with the East increased, the Circa.s.sian maidens sold by their parents to Turkish families would soon come over and play the part of waitresses in Bavarian beer-shops, he evidently failed to carry conviction to any of the party. But the gentle influences of the pumpkin-bowl gradually told upon the severe intellects of the counting-house.

First of all, the musical members of the firm were reconciled. Anton proposed the health of the quartette. The quartette returned thanks in some embarra.s.sment, having been dissolved for about a month. It came out, however, from certain dark hints given by the first ba.s.s, that Specht had been unreasonable in his demands upon them. He had wished to make use of the quartette to serenade the charming Zillibi, the _prima donna_ of the circus; and when the ba.s.ses declined, Specht had flown into a violent pa.s.sion, and sworn he would never sing with them till they consented.

"If he had been content to serenade her in the evening," said Balbus, "we might, perhaps, have given in for the sake of peace, but he maintained that it must be at four o'clock in the morning, as it was then that the riding-master rose to feed his horses. That was too much.

Meanwhile the lady ran off with a Bajazzo."

"That is not true," cried Specht; "the Bajazzo carried her off by force."

"At all events, it has been a fortunate incident for us," said Anton, "as it releases these gentlemen from the observance of their vows. I see no reason, therefore, why they should any longer deprive us of the enjoyment their musical talents are so calculated to afford. From what I hear, my dear Specht, you were a little hasty; so make such an apology to these gentlemen as becomes a man of honor, and then I shall propose the instant re-establishment of the quartette."

Specht rose accordingly, and said, "Adopting the advice of my friend Wohlfart, I now beg to apologize to you all, and am, moreover, ready to give you satisfaction in any way that you prefer." Whereupon he tossed off his gla.s.s, and vehemently shook hands with the ba.s.ses.

After that the music-books were brought out, and the four voices sounded remarkably well out of the arbor. A reconciliation with Pix still remained to be effected. Specht looked at him all evening mistrustfully, as he sat on the sofa-bed, stroking old Pluto, who had come with him to the party. Specht now poured out another gla.s.s for Pix, and laid it down beside him. Pix quaffed it in silence; Specht refilled it, and began in a free-and-easy tone--"Now, Pix, what do you think of the pumpkins?"

"It is a crazy idea," said Pix.

Specht turned away much hurt, but he soon returned to the charge. "You will grant, Pix, that men may hold different opinions on many subjects, and yet need not be enemies."

"I grant that."

"Why, then, are you my enemy? Why do you think meanly of me? It is hard to live on bad terms with one's colleagues. I will not conceal that I esteem you, and that your conduct pains me. You have refused me satisfaction, and yet you are angry with me."

"Don't heat yourself," said Pix; "I have refused you no satisfaction, and I am not angry with you."

"Will you prove this to these gentlemen?" cried Specht, much pleased; "will you hob-n.o.b with me?"

"Come, now," said Pix, good-humoredly, "I have no wish to quarrel; I only say this pumpkin notion was a crazy one."

"But it is my notion still," cried Specht, withdrawing his gla.s.s; "I water them with bullock's blood, and in a few weeks they will be green."

"No," said Pix; "that is over forever, as you will see yourself to-morrow morning. And now come here and hob-n.o.b with me, and pumpkins shall never be spoken of between us any more."

Specht hob-n.o.bbed with all his heart, and became exceedingly cheerful.

The weight that had long oppressed him had fallen off. He sang, he shook all his colleagues by the hand, and dealt more largely than ever in bold a.s.sertions.

As Anton went down stairs with the others, he remarked that Pluto was carrying something yellow in his mouth, and gnawing it eagerly.

"It is Specht's pumpkin," said Pix; "the dog has taken it for a piece of beef, and bitten it to pieces."

CHAPTER XXIV.

Anton stood by the sick-bed of his friend Bernhard, and looked with sincere sympathy at his wasted form. The young student's face was more furrowed than ever, his complexion was transparent as wax, his long hair hung in disorder around his damp brow, and his eyes shone with feverish excitement.

"All the time you have been away," said he, sadly, "I have been longing for you; now that you are returned, I shall be better."

"I will often come if our conversation does not excite you too much,"

replied Anton.

"No," said Bernhard, "I will merely listen, and you shall tell me about your travels."

Anton began his recital: "I have seen of late what we have both of us often wished to see--foreign scenes and a life of adventures. I have found pleasant companions.h.i.+p in other countries, but the result of my experience is that there is no greater happiness than that of living quietly among one's own people. I have met with much that would have delighted you, because it was poetical and soul-stirring, but disappointment was largely mingled with it all."

"It is the same all over the earth," said Bernhard. "When a mighty feeling shakes the heart, and seeks to impel onward, the world stains and tarnishes it, and fair things die, and lofty aims become ridiculous.

So it is no better with others than with us."

"That is our old bone of contention," said Anton, cheerily; "are you not converted, you skeptic?"

Bernhard looked down embarra.s.sed. "Perhaps I am, Wohlfart."

"Oh ho!" cried Anton; "and what has brought this change about? Was it some experience of your own? It must have been, I am sure."

"Whatever it was," said Bernhard, with a smile that irradiated his face, "I believe that with us, too, beauty and loveliness are to be found; that with us, too, life can give birth to great pa.s.sions, holy joys, and bitter griefs; and I believe," continued he, mournfully, "that even with us many sink under the burden of a terrible destiny."

Anton listened anxiously to these words, and remarked that the large eyes of the invalid shone with a sudden inspiration.

"No doubt," said he, "it is as you say, but the fairest and most enn.o.bling thing this life can boast is the triumph of the mind over all external influences. I honor the man who lets neither his pa.s.sions nor his destiny overpower him, but who, even if he have erred, can tear himself away and regain his liberty."

"But how if it be too late, and if the force of circ.u.mstances be stronger than he?"

"I am not willing to believe in such force of circ.u.mstances," replied Anton. "I imagine that, however sore pressed a man may be, if he sets himself to work in earnest, he may hew his way out. True, he will bear the scars of such an encounter, but, like a soldier's, there will be honor in them. Or, even if he does not overcome, he can at least fight valiantly, and if conquered at last, he deserves the sympathy of all; but he who yields himself up without resistance, the wind blows such away from the face of the earth."

"No spell will change down into stone, sings the poet," said Bernhard, taking a feather from his pillow and brus.h.i.+ng it away. "I have a question to ask you, Wohlfart," said he, after a pause. "Fancy that I am a Christian, and that you are my father-confessor, from whom no secrets must be kept back." Then looking anxiously at the door of the next room, he whispered, "What do you think of my father's business?"