rous
strange that so much of the adventurous was concealed in a
common-place, everyday lackey like Baum.

"You have at last beheld a tragedy in real life," said one of the
ladies.

The intendant well knew that tragedies were no longer in favor, and, in
his anxiety to please, recounted some very interesting reports about
Walpurga, giving, as his authority, the host of the Chamois, an honest,
upright man, who had been decorated for his services in the war.

Whether it was real or afflicted forgetfulness on their part, it is
impossible to say,--but the ladies seemed to have forgotten that
Walpurga had ever existed--but who can remember all one's subordinates?

For want of some other safe topic of conversation, they listened to
various droll stories about Walpurga and her dolt of a husband.
Schoning, to use his own words, simply repeated all that the veracious
and upright host of the Chamois had told him. Hansei was described as
an awkward bumpkin, unable to use his hands or feet, and obliged to
call the schoolmaster to his assistance whenever he found it necessary
to count the smallest sum of money. One of these stories, introducing a
wager and a chamber window, was quite piquant and greatly to the taste
of the ladies. They tittered, and scolded the intendant for talking of
such things, but Schoning well knew that the more they scolded, the
better they were pleased with what he had told them. He found an added
pleasure in the opportunity afforded him of using the dialect of the
mountain region from which he had but recently returned, and cleverly
imitated the voices of the peasants and peasant women who had stood
before the window, on the night referred to. He introduced various
forcible and unequivocal expressions, and greatly enjoyed shocking the
ladies, who would, now and then, cry: "Oh, you horrid man! you terrible
man!" One lady actually pricked him with her needle, but he quietly
proceeded with his story, well knowing how delighted they were to
listen to it.

And if there was no harm in describing Hansei as a dolt, there was just
as little in heightening the colors in which Walpurga was depicted--the
petticoats of the peasant women are always shorter upon the stage than
they are in real life--and thus, with the kindest feeling toward all
and merely yielding to his desire to please, the intendant said all
sorts of strange things about Walpurga. It had been rumored, he added,
that it was not without cause that th