onkeys looking very comical
in clothes and playing all sorts of tricks. These vagrants generally go
through the town, stopping at all the cross streets and squares, making
a horrible tumult with a small drum and fife, compelling their animals
to dance and perform tricks, and then collect money in the houses. But
the band, which was now exhibiting in Gruenwiesel, was distinguished
above others of its class by the presence of a monster orang-outang,
nearly as large as a human being, which walked on two legs, and could
perform all manner of clever tricks. This dog-and-ape-troupe stopped
before the house of the strange gentleman. At the sound of the fife and
drum, the latter appeared at the dust-dimmed window, looking rather
displeased; but after a time his face lighted up, and, to everybody's
surprise, he opened the window, looked out, and laughed heartily at the
tricks of the orang-outang, and even gave such a large silver coin to
the show that the whole town spoke of it.

On the following day these vagrants left the place. The camel carried a
large number of baskets in which the dogs and monkies sat demurely,
while the men and the big ape walked behind the camel. They had hardly
been gone an hour, however, when the strange gentleman sent to the
post, and ordered, to the astonishment of the postmaster, a carriage
with post-horses, and shortly drove through the same gate, out on the
same road that had been taken by the band of men and monkeys. The whole
town was vexed because it could not be learned where he was bound.
Night had set in before the strange gentleman returned to the gate. But
another person sat in the wagon with him, who pressed his hat down over
his face, and had bound up his mouth and ears in a silk handkerchief.
The gate-keeper held it to be his duty to question the other stranger,
and to ask him for his passport; he answered, however, very roughly,
muttering away in a quite unintelligible language.

"It is my nephew," said the strange gentleman, pleasantly, to the
gate-keeper, as he pressed some silver coin into his hand; "it is my
nephew, who does not at present understand very much German. He was
just now cursing in his own dialect at our being stopped here."

"Well, if he is your nephew," replied the gate-keeper, "of course a
pass is not necessary. He will probably lodge with you?"

"Certainly," said the strange gentleman, "and will most likely remain
here some time."

The gate-keeper had no furth