ances at him, but
after a time attempted to reestablish intercourse with him. When he met
the manufacturer out at their resting-place, he would occasionally put
on a friendly expression and greet him with "Fine weather, Huerlin! I
think we shall have a good autumn, don't you?" But Huerlin merely looked
at him, nodded wearily, and made no sound.

In spite of all this, some thread would have gradually spun itself to
link the two perverse creatures together; out of his very melancholy
and disgust, Huerlin would have grasped as for dear life at the first
comer, if only to get rid now and then of the wretched feeling of
loneliness and emptiness. The manager, who was displeased by the
manufacturer's silent moroseness, did what he could also to bring his
two charges together. But finally a sort of salvation, if a dubious
one, came to all three. During the month of September there came to the
house at short intervals two new inmates--two very different ones.

One was called Louis Kellerhals; but this name was not known to anybody
in the town, for Louis had borne for decades the appellation of
Holdria, whose origin is undiscoverable. When, many years before, he
had become a pensioner of the community, he had been placed with a
friendly artisan, where he had been well treated and counted as a
member of the family. The artisan had now, however, died with
unexpected suddenness; and since his protege could hardly be reckoned
as part of the inheritance he left, it was necessary for the poorhouse
to receive him. He made his entrance with a well-filled linen bag, a
huge blue umbrella, and a green wooden cage, containing a very fat
common sparrow. He seemed little upset by his change of quarters; he
came in smiling and beaming with cordiality, shook every one heartily
by the hand, spoke no word and asked no questions, brimmed over with
delight and kindliness when any one spoke to him or looked at him, and
even if he had not long been a well-known figure, could not have
concealed for a quarter of an hour the fact that he was a harmless and
well-meaning imbecile.

The second, who made his appearance about a week later, brought with
him not less joyful benevolence, but was not weak in the head; on the
contrary, though harmless enough, he was a thoroughly cunning fellow.
His name was Stefan Finkenbein; he was a member of the wandering
beggars' dynasty of the Finkenbeins, long well known throughout the
whole town and neighborhood. Of this