and then spat it out with a "Pah!" which made George look at him
furiously, thinking the exclamation addressed to him. Seeing that Aloys
was quiet, he shrugged his shoulders in derision and began singing bad
songs, which all had pretty much the same burden:--

"A bright boy will run through
Many a shoe;
An old fool will tear
Never a pair."

At midnight Aloys took his sword from the wall to go. George and his
party now began to sing the "teaser," keeping time with their fists on
the table:--

"Hey, Bob, 'ye goin' home?
'Ye gettin' scared? 'Ye gettin' sick?
Got no money, and can't get tick?
Hey, Bob, 'ye goin' home?"

Aloys turned back with some of his friends and called for two bottles
more. They now sang songs of their own, while George and his gang were
singing at the other table. George got up and cried, "Gawk, shut up!"
Then Aloys seized a full bottle and hurled it at his head, sprang over
the table, and caught him by the throat. The tables fell down, the
glasses chinked on the floor, the music stopped. For a while all was
still, as if the two were to throttle each other in silence: then
suddenly the room was filled with shouting, whistling, scolding, and
quarrelling. The bystanders interfered; but, according to custom, each
party only restrained the adversary of the party he sided with, so as
to give the latter a chance of drubbing his opponent undisturbed.
Mechtilde held George by the head until his hair came out by handfuls.
The legs of chairs were now broken off, and all hands whacked each
other to their hearts' content. Aloys and George remained as if
fastened together by their teeth. At length Aloys gained his feet, and
threw George down with such violence that he seemed to have broken his
neck, and then kneeled down on him, and would have throttled him had
not the watchman entered and put an end to the row. The musicians were
sent home and the two chief combatants taken to the lock-up.

With his face black and blue, pale and haggard, Aloys left the village
next day. His furlough had another day to run; but what should he do at
home? He was glad enough to go soldiering again; and nothing would have
pleased him better than a war. The squire had endorsed the story of the
fracas on his passport, and a severe punishment awaited him on his
return. He looked neither to the right nor to the left, but walked away
almo