ly to form a contrast to himself. His mouth was always wide
open, and his eyes, which seemed trying to find their way out of his
head, stared vacantly before him: if he looked at anything at all, it
was apparently with the point of his nose.

From two arms of immeasurable length dangled a huge pair of uncouth
red hands, which looked as though they were not really his own, but
merely borrowed for the day's work, and his awkward legs he seemed
rather to drag after him than to be indebted to their assistance for
the act of propulsion.

To complete the singularity of his appearance, this youth was in the
habit of wearing a coat with long and pointed tails, the sleeves of
which scarcely reached below the elbows, while the ends of the tails
dangled against his ankles; his waistcoat had doubtless boasted of
some very brilliant colouring in days long past, though it would have
been difficult to distinguish the shades at present, and most of the
gilt buttons had only left their ears as a remembrance. Wide
csikos[66] drawers adorned his legs as far as the ankles, beneath
which his bare feet, were thrust into a pair of heelless slippers; a
high cravat stood up around his neck like a halter, in which no less
than three glittering pins of Bohemian stones constituted the especial
glory of his toilet.

[Footnote 66: The csikos, who keep the horses on the plains, are noted
for their wide drawers.]

It was late in the evening. The dogs were barking about the streets,
and the peacocks crying in the neighbouring farm-yard; otherwise the
village was very quiet, the good folks having for the most part
retired to rest with the sparrows.

Master Hans, or Hanzli, as he was commonly denominated--we have evaded
the question as long as possible, but finally we must acknowledge that
the youth's name was Hanzli; it was no fault of his, poor fellow! his
god-parents were alone to blame; and doubtless, had he been capable of
speech when they so basely betrayed his helpless innocence, he would
have protested against it--Hanzli thrust his nose and his arm out of
the window, then drew both back, and the window was closed.

The village had been deserted for some weeks by the German soldiery;
and from that day forward the beer-room had become pitifully empty,
for it was only now and then that some desperately thirsty wretch
dropped in by chance, and ventured to slake his thirst with a glass of
the barm-smelling wine.

A dim light flickered on the