opinions, and even laughed in the mayor's face when
he spoke, and affirmed that they knew better than he. Formerly the
young men of Gruenwiesel had had a horror of a coarse and vulgar life;
but now they sang all kinds of low songs, smoked tobacco in enormous
pipes, and frequented the worst saloons. They also bought large
goggles, although their sight was not impaired, set them on their nose,
and thought that they were now made, as they looked just like the
celebrated young Englishman. At home, or when they were visiting, they
would lie down on the lounge with their boots and spurs on; they tilted
back their chairs in company, or put their elbows on the table and
rested their cheeks on their fists--a posture that was in the highest
degree charming to look at. All in vain did their mothers and friends
tell them how foolish and disgraceful these actions were; they quoted
the shining example of the nephew in defence of their behavior. All in
vain was it represented to them that one should overlook in the nephew,
as a young Englishman, a certain national rudeness;--the young men of
Gruenwiesel would assert that they had just as good a right as the best
Englishman living, to be rude in a spirited way; in short, it was a
pity to see how the evil example of the nephew had completely destroyed
the customs and good manners of Gruenwiesel.

But the joy of the young men, in their rude unrestrained life did not
last long, as the following event wrought a complete change in the
scene. The Winter amusements were to close with a concert, that was to
be given, partly by the town musicians, and partly by the lovers of
music in Gruenwiesel. The mayor played the violoncello, the doctor the
bassoon, extremely well; the apothecary, although he had a very poor
talent for it, blew the flute; the young ladies of Gruenwiesel had
learned some songs, and every thing was all nicely arranged. But the
strange gentleman gave out that while the concert would undoubtedly be
a success, yet it was a mistake not to introduce a duet, as a duet was
a recognized feature of every concert. The old gentleman's declaration
proved quite an embarrassment to the managers. It was true that the
mayor's daughter sang like a nightingale; but where should they find a
gentleman who could sing a duet with her? In their perplexity, they at
last hit upon the old organist who had once possessed an excellent bass
voice; but the strange gentleman asserted that they need have no