striking, and it fell heavy on his heart
that today he had not copied a single stroke. Full of anxiety, and
dreading reproaches from the Archivarius, he looked into the sheet;
and, O wonder! the copy of the mysterious manuscript was fairly
concluded; and he thought, on viewing the characters more narrowly,
that the writing was nothing else but Serpentina's story of her
father, the favorite of the Spirit-prince Phosphorus, in Atlantis,
the Land of Marvels. And now entered Archivarius Lindhorst, in his
light-gray surtout, with hat and staff; he looked into the parchment
on which Anselmus had been writing, took a large pinch of snuff, and
said with a smile "Just as I thought!--Well, Herr Anselmus, here is
your speziesthaler; we will now to the Linke Bath; do but follow me!"
The Archivarius stepped rapidly through the garden, in which there was
such a din of singing, whistling, talking, that the student Anselmus
was quite deafened with it and thanked Heaven when he found himself on
the street.

Scarcely had they walked a few paces when they met Registrator
Heerbrand, who companionably joined them. At the Gate, they filled
their pipes, which they had about them; Registrator Heerbrand
complained that he had left his tinder-box behind, and could not
strike fire. "Fire!" cried Archivarius Lindhorst, scornfully; "here is
fire enough, and to spare!" And with this he snapped his fingers, out
of which came streams of sparks and directly kindled the pipes.--"Do
but observe the chemical knack of some men!" said Registrator
Heerbrand; but the student Anselmus thought, not without internal awe,
of the Salamander and his history.

In the Linke Bath, Registrator Heerbrand drank so much strong double
beer that at last, though usually a good-natured, quiet man, he began
singing student songs in squeaking tenor; he asked every one sharply
whether he was his friend or not; and at last had to be taken home by
the student Anselmus, long after Archivarius had gone his way.

NINTH VIGIL

How the student Anselmus attained to some Sense. The Punch Parts.
How the student Anselmus took Conrector Paulmann for a Screech-Owl,
and the latter felt much hurt at it. The Ink-blot, and its
Consequences.

The strange and mysterious things which day by day befell the student
Anselmus had entirely withdrawn him from every-day life. He no longer
visited any of his friends, and waited every morning with impatience
for the hour of n