u knew him so well," the divine here
interrupted me, laughing so heartily that he grew quite purple in the
face and the tears rolled down his cheeks. "But I heard," the girl
interposed, "that the bridegroom was a stout, very wealthy gentleman."
"Good heavens, yes, yes, to be sure! Confusion worse confounded!"
exclaimed his reverence, laughing so that it brought on a fit of
coughing. When he had somewhat recovered himself, he raised his goblet
aloft and cried, "Here's to the bridal pair!" I did not know what
to make of the reverend gentleman and his talk, and I was ashamed,
because of my adventures in Rome, to tell him here before all these
people that I myself was the missing thrice happy bridegroom.

The goblet kept passing from hand to hand; the reverend gentleman
had a kind word for every one, so that all liked him, and finally the
entire company chatted gaily together. The students grew more and more
loquacious, recounting their experiences in the mountains, and at last
brought out their instruments and played away merrily. The cool breeze
from the water sighed through the leaves of the arbor, the afternoon
sun gilded the woods and vales which flew past us, while the shores
echoed back the notes of the horn. And when the reverend gentleman,
stimulated by the music, grew more and more genial, and told us
stories of his youth, how in vacation-time he too had wandered over
hills and dales, and had been often hungry and thirsty, but always
happy, and how, in fact, a student's whole life, from its first day in
the narrow, dry lecture-room to its last, is one long vacation, then
the students drank all around once more, and struck up a song, that
reechoed among the distant mountains

"The birds are southward winging
Their yearly, airy flight,
And roving lads are swinging
Their caps in morning's light;
We students thus are going,
And, when the gates are nigh,
Our trumpets shall be blowing,
In token of good-bye.
A long farewell we give thee,
O Prague, for we must leave thee,
_Et habeat bonam pacem,
Qui sedet post fornacem_!

"When through the towns we're going
At night, the windows shine,
Behind their curtains showing
Full many a damsel fine.
We play at many a gate-way,
And when our throats are dry
We call mine host, and straightway
He treats us generously;
And o'er a goblet foaming
We rest awhile from roaming.
_Venit ex sua domo--
Beatus ille hom