o have another pair of boots made--

SHOEMAK.

Please take a seat. I have a measure with me.

GOTTLIEB.

Not for myself, but for my young friend there.

SHOEMAK.

For this one here? Very well.

HINZE (_sits on a chair and holds out his right leg_).

SHOEMAK.

Now how should you like it, pussy?

HINZE.

In the first place, good soles, then brown flaps, and, above all
things, stiff.

SHOEMAK.

Very well. (_He takes the measure_.) Will you be so kind as to draw
your claws in a bit--or rather nails? I have already scratched myself.
(_He takes the measure_.)

HINZE.

And they must be finished quickly. (_As his leg is being stroked he
begins to purr involuntarily_.)

SHOEMAK.

The pussy is comfortable.

GOTTLIEB.

Yes, he's a good-humored fellow. He has just come from school, what
they usually call a "smarty."

SHOEMAK.

Well, good-bye.

[_Exit_.]

GOTTLIEB.

Wouldn't you perhaps like to have your whiskers trimmed too?

HINZE.

On no account, I look so much more respectable, and you certainly must
know that cats immediately become unmanly after that. A tom-cat
without whiskers is but a contemptible creature.

GOTTLIEB.

If I only knew what you are planning!

HINZE.

You'll find out in due time. Now I want to take a little walk on the
roofs; there's a fine, open view there and you're likely to catch a
dove too.

GOTTLIEB.

As a good friend, I want to warn you not to let yourself be caught at
it.

HINZE.

Don't worry, I'm not a novice. Meanwhile, good-bye.

[_Exit_.]

GOTTLIEB (_alone_).

Natural history always says that cats cannot be trusted and that they
belong to the lion family, and I am in such fearful dread of a lion. Now
if the cat had no conscience, he could run away from me afterward with
the boots for which I must now give my last penny and then sell them
somewhere for nothing, or it's possible that he wants to make a bid for
favor with the shoemaker and then go into his service. But he has a
tom-cat already. No, Hinze, my brothers have betrayed me, and now I
will try my luck with you. He spoke so nobly, he was so touched--there
he sits on the roof yonder, stroking his whiskers--forgive me, my fine
friend, that I could even for a moment doubt your magnanimity.

[_Exit_.]

FISCHER.

What nonsense!

MUeLLER.

What does