e huntsman and the red-nosed man; he was
evidently a person nice of his manners and appearance, his features
were still youthful, and a gentle smile played upon his lips. There
were varieties in the dress and expression of all, but not such as to
have particularly fastened themselves upon my remembrance. As it
usually is with old drinkers, conversation flagged for want of liquor;
until, in answer to the summons of the bell, a new figure appeared at
the door--a piteous-looking old man with trembling legs and grey hair,
with a sort of death's-head face. With much exertion he dragged forward
a great basket, and greeted the guests humbly.

'Hurrah,' they cried, 'here's Balthasar, slip along old fellow, on with
your glasses and pipes; what a time you have been!'

[Illustration: THE GENTLEMEN OF THE RHINE]

The old man gave a rude yawn, and declared that he had almost overslept
the first of September: 'I sleep so sound, d'ye see, since they've new
paved the churchyard, that I'm getting to hear rather badly. But here's
only six of you yet, and where's my Lady Rose?' 'Just you put on the
bottles, old chap, and then you may go across and rattle your dry bones
against their casks, and tell them it's time to get up,' cried one of
them; but the words were hardly spoken when a great noise and laughter was
heard. 'Rosa, Rose, Lady Rose, hurrah, hurrah for Bacchus, hurrah for
Rosa!' The ghostly companions within shouted with delight to the same
effect, and clinked their glasses to the health of the Rose. Balthasar
threw his cap up to the ceiling in his joy. In they came: Bacchus, my old
friend who had bestrid the cask, had got down off it--not a rag of clothing
on him--yet in he came, leading his blushing Rose, an ancient matron of
stately mien and considerable stoutness of figure: splendidly dressed, too,
she was like a true old Rhineland lady. Time might have written a few
wrinkles on her brow and mouth, the fresh colour of youth might be a trifle
wanting on her cheeks, but two hundred years had but added dignity to her
contour. What though her eyebrows had grown grey, and there were--hush, yes
there were really--a few ugly grey hairs on her chin, her locks above were
nut-brown, with but very slight tinge of silver here and there. Her head
was covered with a black velvet cap, fitting close to her temples: her
jacket was of the finest cloth, and the red velvet bodice that peeped from
beneath it was laced with silver hooks and chains