ther about with the hoops. It was such a
merry, boisterous affair altogether, that nobody noticed the incoming
of old Master Johannes Holzschuer. However, Master Martin went up to
him, and asked him courteously what might be his will.

"Well," said Master Holzschuer, "I wanted to see my dear Friedrich
again, who is working away so hard there. But, besides that, Master
Martin, I want a fine cask for my cellar, and I was going to ask you to
turn me one out. See! _there_ is just the sort of cask I want--that one
your men have in hand there, let me have that one. You have but to tell
me the price."

Reinhold, who, being a little tired, was resting, said on his way on to
the scaffold again, "Ah, dear Herr Holzschuer, you will have to forego
your fancy for this cask; we are making it for the Bishop of Bamberg."

Master Martin, folding his arms behind his back, advancing his left
foot, and lifting his head proudly, blinked at the cask with his eyes,
and said somewhat boastfully, "My dear master, you might know by the
choiceness of the timber, and the superiority of the workmanship, that
a masterpiece such as this is a thing for a Prince-Bishop's cellar
alone. My journeyman Reinhold has said well. But when we have got the
vintage off our hands, I will turn you out a tidy little cask, such as
will be suitable for your cellar."

Old Holzschuer, annoyed with Master Martin's conceit, thought, for his
part, that his money was just as good as the Bishop of Bamberg's, and
that he would probably get as good value for it elsewhere; and he said
so. Master Martin, overwhelmed with anger, contained himself with
difficulty. He scarcely dared to offend old Holzschuer, friend of the
Council as he was, highly esteemed by all the town. But just at that
moment, Conrad was making such a tremendous hammering with his mallet
on the cask that the whole place was ringing and resounding; and Master
Martin's boiling wrath ran over, so that he spluttered out, with a
shout, "Conrad--dunderhead that you are--don't whack away in that
blind, furious style, man! You'll ruin that cask on our hands
altogether."

"Ho! ho! you funny little master," Conrad cried, looking round with an
angry face, "why shouldn't I?" and set to work again, hammering at the
cask with such violence that the largest of the hoops burst with a
"clirr," knocking Reinhold off the narrow board of the scaffold,
whilst, from the hollow sound which followed, it was evident that one
of t