e; and since Wurzelmann directed, and the
orchestra did not have to feel the burning, basilisk eye of
Kapellmeister Nothafft resting on it and floating over it, it played
with more precision and produced a more pleasing feast for the ears than
ordinarily.

Doermaul was not stingy with his praise. "Bravo Wurzelmann," he cried,
"one more short year of hard work, and I'll get you a position in the
Royal Opera House."

"Nothafft will likewise rise to fame and office," he said, "although I
was so stupid as to publish his music, and now all this waste paper is
lying in my shop like a pound of brick cheese in a sick stomach."

The impresario Doermaul wore black and white striped trousers of
imported cut, a vest that looked like a bit of tapestry made of pressed
leather, a massive gold watch-chain from which dangled countless fobs, a
blood red tie with a diamond as big as the Koh-i-noor and as false as an
April sun, and a grey silk tile hat which he lifted only when in the
presence of privy councillors, generals, and police presidents.

To a man of this kind Daniel had the boldness to remark: "Had you eaten
cheese you would at least have digested it. Your crowded shops are after
all more desirable in my estimation than many a head which would remain
empty even if some one stuffed the whole of the 'Passion of St. Matthew'
into it."

Doermaul decided to laugh. "Oho, my good fellow," he said, and pushed his
tile hat on to the back of his head, "you are getting all puffed up.
Look out that you don't burst. You remember the story of Haenschen: He
was awfully proud of his porridge while sitting behind the stove; but
when he went out on to the street, he fell into the puddle."

The little slave tittered. Daniel had known for a long time that
Wurzelmann was working against him. Quite innocently, to be sure, for
half souls can admire and betray at the same time.

"Envy is my only virtue," said Wurzelmann quite openly, "I am a genius
at envying."

Daniel was not equal to such cynicism. He was stupefied by Wurzelmann's
remark, but he did not break with the little slave; he continued to use
him. He was the only individual with whom he could speak of himself and
his work. And though he was overburdened, owing to his present position,
he nevertheless managed to steal a few hours every day for his own work.
And the pressure from all sides fanned the flame within him.

It was then that he staked out his field in order to be master in