d the most ludicrous
appearance. Everybody in the room was ready to split with laughter;
even Hanzli ventured to grin, and thereby incurred the displeasure of
his gracious master, who turned his eye upon him severely, as if to
say: "I take the joke from the soldiers, because they are hussars; but
you are Hanzli, and you have no business to laugh."

Meanwhile, poor Vendel's nose grew longer and longer. "What a terrible
race!" thought he to himself; "they respect neither heaven nor earth,
never drink beer, take an honest man's snuff to give it to his dog,
and then laugh at the whole affair! Heaven preserve us! what may not
come next?"

What indeed!

Mankind has a singular propensity for thrusting his nose wherever he
hears laughter or noise; and considering this weakness, what should be
more natural than that all the inhabitants of the kitchen should press
to the door of the beer-room to hear what was going on, and
consequently that Mistress Vicza, with her eyes burning like two
coals, should immediately follow in the track of the "linen folk?"

But no sooner did the sparkling eyes, the rosy cheeks, and the elastic
figure of Mistress Vicza make its appearance, than the hussar started
from his post beside Vendel, and bounded towards the door.

"Ah, sweet one! I have not seen you yet," he exclaimed, proceeding
_brevi manu_ to span the small waist of the pretty hostess.

"For shame, sir!" exclaimed Mistress Vicza, extricating herself from
the hussar's grasp; and then, running over to her husband, she began
to caress and fondle him--drawing his cap over his head, and trying to
make room for herself on the bench beside him--though, at the very
moment she was kissing the dear old man, her bright eyes glanced slily
at the handsome hussar. (_Pro memoria_ to every married man--when his
wife kisses up one of his eyes, let him look well after her with the
other.)

Our hero, in order to repair his fault, after looking about him and
twisting his moustache, turned suddenly towards the group of servants
assembled at the door, and seizing the nearest, a plump, rosy-faced
little girl, with long plaited hair tied with gay ribbons, he
imprinted a hearty kiss on her cheek, on which she screamed so loudly
that he started back in alarm, bounding over the tables and chairs in
his way.

"I'll settle your wits for you, master, if you can't behave better
than that!" cried a deep voice in echo to the scream.

"How now! what is the matte