me. I
must make a decision, and everything within me seems walled up. I need
some one to unlock me. Perhaps you have the key." He looked at him with
a weary, restless glance, and tried to smile. It was pitiful to see the
effort he made to adopt a careless tone. His friend shook his head, "A
decision?" he asked.

"Yes, indeed, and no less important one than to dip this pen into
yonder inkstand and write: 'Honored Sir!' Will you believe that I've
been working at this herculean task for two hours and have not yet
stirred a finger?"

"You can do something more sensible."

"Gladly. If it doesn't require too much intelligence."

"Only as much as is needed to pack a trunk and go with it to the railway
station. My fur boots are at your service, and also money to pay the
traveling expenses. If you will only for once take the medicine,
without reflecting upon the prescription, and pack up this very day."

"This very day?"

"What's the use of writing that you will come? You're going, and that's
enough. I know all you want to say: that you don't feel like it, that
you fear you'll not make a favorable impression just now. That's all
nonsense. If you don't make haste at once, it's very doubtful whether
you can ever present yourself in any place; you're far more likely to
absent yourself--retire where we yesterday accompanied our own Balder.
You've been moping about here for months. It's a bit too much, quite
enough to break down a stronger man. Come now, make a dash, put on your
dress-coat, visit your superiors and colleagues, set the cog-wheel of
your career in motion, and let the grey substance in your brain rest,
that it may make good its deficiencies. If this prescription is not
carefully followed, I'll answer for nothing, or rather I will answer
for the nothing into which your insignificant self will soon be
resolved. Have you had any sleep?"

"I believe so," replied Edwin, with an absent nod. "I slept night
before last from two to three."

"I thought so!" exclaimed his friend, dashing his hat violently upon
the table. "And no one made his appearance yesterday, to perform a work
of charity and bore you till you fell asleep. What's the use of friends
who are poets in private and lecturers in public? Where was Mohr, with
his famous comedy? And our dear Franzel? Holy--"

"Philosophy showed poetry the door in the afternoon," said Mohr, who
had just entered and overheard Marquard's words, "but don't be
disturbed. Doctor,