only found Baumann and Specht remaining of all his former acquaintances,
and they, too, thought of leaving. Baumann had, immediately on Anton's
return, confided to the principal that he must leave in the spring, and
this time Anton's earnest representations failed to shake the future
missionary's firm resolve: "I can no longer delay," said he; "my
conscience protests against it. I go from hence to the London Training
College, and thence wherever they choose to send me. I confess that I
have a preference for Africa; there are certain kings there"--he
pronounced several crack-jaw names--"that I can not think wholly ill of.
There must be some hope of conversion among them. I trust to wean them
from that heathenish slave-trade. They may make use of their people at
home in planting sugar-cane and cultivating rice. In a couple of years I
will send you, by way of London, the first samples of our produce."

Mr. Specht, too, came to Anton. "You have always been friendly to me,
Wohlfart, and I should like to have your opinion. I am to marry a very
accomplished girl; her name is Fanny, and she is a niece of Pix."

"What!" said Anton, "and do you love the young lady?"

"Yes, that I do," cried Specht, enthusiastically; "but, if I am to marry
her, I am to enter into Pix's business, and that is what I want your
opinion about. My lady-love has some fortune, and Pix thinks it would be
best invested in his firm. Now you know Pix is a good fellow at bottom,
but another partner might suit me better."

"I think not, my good old Specht," said Anton; "you are apt to be a
little too precipitate, and it would be very well for you to have a
steady partner."

"Yes," said Specht; "but only think of the branches he has chosen. No
one could have believed it possible that our Pix would have taken to
them."

"What are they, then?" asked Anton.

"All sorts of things," cried Specht, "that he never saw before. Skins
and leather, and every kind of fur, from the sable to the mole, and,
besides, hemp and brushes--every thing, in short, that is hairy and
bristling. These are very low articles, Wohlfart."

"Don't be a child," replied Anton; "marry, my good fellow, and trust to
the management of your uncle-in-law; it will do you no harm."

The next day Pix himself came to Anton's room. "I found your card,
Wohlfart, and come to invite you to coffee on Sunday next. Cuba, and a
Manilla! You will make my wife's acquaintance."

"And so you are going to