hat quarter.
At times he would enter into a conversation with Philippina, and when
she told him the latest news he was filled with fiendish delight. "The
day will come when I will get back at that music-maker, you see if I
don't," he said.

Theresa was still confined to her bed. During his leisure hours
Willibald had to read to her, either from the newspapers or from trashy
novels. When she was alone she lay perfectly quiet and stared at the
ceiling.

The time finally came when Willibald left school. He went to Fuerth,
where he was employed as an apprentice by a manufacturer. There was no
doubt in any one's mind but that he would become one of those loyal,
temperate, industrious people who are the pride of their parents, and
who climb the social ladder at the rate of an annual increase in salary
of thirty marks.

The one-eyed Markus entered the paternal bookshop, where he soon
familiarised himself with the novels of the world from Dumas and Luise
Muehlbach to Ohnet and Zola, and with the popular sciences from Darwin to
Mantegazza. His brain was a book catalogue, and his mouth an oracle of
the tastes displayed at the last fair. But in reality he not only did
not like the books, he regarded all this printed matter as a jolly fine
deception practised on people who did not know what to do with their
money. Zwanziger, the clerk, had married the widow of a cheese merchant,
and was running a shop of his own on the Regensburg Chaussee.

"A rotten business," said Jason Philip at the end of each month. "The
trouble with me," he invariably added, "is that I have been too much of
an idealist. If I had worked as hard for myself as I have for other
people, I would be a rich man to-day."

He went to the cafe and discussed politics. He had developed into a
perpetual grumbler; he was pleased with nothing, neither the government
nor the opposition. To hear him talk you would have thought that the
opposing parties had been forced to narrow their platforms down to the
differences between the views of Prince Bismarck and Jason Philip
Schimmelweis. When Kaiser Wilhelm I died, Jason Philip acted as though
his appointment to the chancellorship was imminent. And when in that
same memorable year Kaiser Friedrich succumbed to his sufferings, Jason
Philip resembled the pilot on whose isolated fearlessness the rescue of
the storm-tossed ship of state depends.

The born hero always finds a sphere of activity, a forum from which to
express hi