estless and
impetuous, and his whole attire was that of a man who thought little of
his personal appearance, though his stately figure was well worthy to
command attention, had but a little care been bestowed upon it.

"Why, Mohr! Heinrich Mohr! What wind has blown you to us again?" cried
Edwin, advancing to meet him and cordially shaking hands.

"The same thoughtless whirlwind, I suppose, that tosses all the
sweepings of humanity into confusion," replied the other. "It is only
those individuals, who possess a certain specific weight, that do not
change their places without special cause. You, for instance, I find in
the same old house where I left you three years ago. And, if I must be
honest, the only sensible reason I can give for venturing out of my
dull little birthplace back to this huge, clever, mad Berlin, was the
desire to see you again. After all, you have the most friendly faces,
and that you really seem to feel a sort of pleasure in being troubled
with me again, proves that you are still the same as of old."

"And you, too, seem to have altered little; less, perhaps, than would
have been advisable," said Edwin, laughing.

Mohr's only answer was a shrug of the shoulders. He threw down his
satchel and went to the turning-lathe, beside which Balder was leaning.

"Still as conscientious as ever; trying to kill himself," he muttered,
taking up some of the little articles which were waiting for the last
touches. "But I can't blame you, Balder. You at least accomplish
something every day, and only hurt your chest by bending and stooping.
Other people would be fairly beside themselves with impatience, if they
had to sit doubled up all day long turning their stock in trade.
Besides, it seems to me you have made considerable progress. You are an
enviable fellow, Balder."

The youth looked at him with a smile.

"Would that you could only convince Edwin of it!" he said; "he is
always trying to persuade me to give up my trade. He won't believe that
to sit perfectly idle, and see everybody else work would kill me much
sooner."

"Idle! As if you ever could be idle!" cried Edwin indignantly. "As if
it were not the most insane obstinacy to refuse to accept from his own
and only brother, that which even he has means sufficient to procure--a
pitiful mouthful of bread! But we will let it pass, though it is the
only real annoyance of my life, and this hard heart might so easily
spare it me,--Basta! I will _not_ be vexe