ight before him, and there was a
something playing over his haughty features that, in any one else, would
have been called emotion.

"Well," said he, at length, "both the lady and I were perhaps too
positive." Then pointing to the dead sparrow, "Before this serious fact
I lay down my arms, and confess that I wish the little gentleman were
still alive, and likely to reach a good old age among the cherries and
other delicacies of the firm. And so," turning to Sabine, "you will not
be angry with me any more, will you?"

Sabine smiled, and cordially answered "No."

"As for you, Anton, give me your hand. You have made a brilliant
defense, and gained me a verdict of 'Not guilty' from a German jury.
Take your pen and scratch out a few weeks from our calendar; you
understand?" Anton pressed his hand, and threw his arm around his
shoulder.

Once more the party was in a thoroughly genial mood. Mr. Schroeter joined
them, cigars were lit, and all tried to be as pleasant as possible. Mr.
Liebold rose to ask permission from the principal and his sister--that
is, if it would not be considered an interruption--to sing a few
concerted pieces with some of his colleagues. As he had for several
years regularly made the same proposition in the same words, all were
prepared for it, and Sabine good-naturedly cried, "Of course, Mr.
Liebold; half the pleasure would be gone if we had not our quartette."
Accordingly, the four singers began. Mr. Specht was the first tenor,
Liebold the second, Birnbaum and Balbus took the base. These formed the
musical section of the counting-house, and their voices went really very
well together, with the exception of Specht's being rather too loud, and
Liebold's rather too low; but their audience was well-disposed, the
evening exquisite, and all listened with pleasure.

"It's an absurd thing," began Fink, when the applause was over, "that a
certain sequence of tones should touch the heart, and call forth tears
from men in whom all other gentle emotions are dead and gone. Every
nation has its own simple airs, and fellow-countrymen recognize each
other by the impression these make. When those emigrants of whom we
spoke just now have lost all love for their fatherland--nay, have
forgotten their mother tongue, their home melodies still survive, and
many a foolish fellow, who piques himself on being a naturalized Yankee,
suddenly feels himself German at heart on chancing to hear a couple of
bars familiar to him