on his writing-table. And then they both played with the boy,
who romped about on the carpet in his first pair of trousers, which he
still found rather uncomfortable.
Paul Schlieben could not remember ever having spent such a pleasant
birthday as this one. There was so much brightness around him, so much
merriment. And even if Wolf had torn his first pair of trousers by
noon--how and where it had been done was quite incomprehensible to the
dismayed nurse--that did not disturb the birthday; on the contrary, the
laughter became all the gayer. "Tear your trousers, my boy, tear away,"
whispered his mother, smiling to herself as the damage was pointed out
to her, "just you be happy and strong."
There was a party in the evening. The windows of the pretty villa
were lighted up and the garden as well. The air was balmy, the pines
spread their branches motionless under the starry sky, and bright
coloured lanterns glittered in the bushes and along the paths that were
overgrown with trees like large glow-worms.
Woelfchen was asleep on the first floor of the villa, in the
only room that was not brightly lighted up. There was nothing but a
hanging lamp of opal there, and every noise was kept away by thick
curtains and Venetian blinds. But they drank his health downstairs.
The guests had already drunk the health of the master of the house
at the table, and then that of his amiable wife--what greater honour
could they pay their popular host and hostess now than to drink the
health of the boy--their boy?
Dr. Hofmann, the tried doctor and friend of the family for many
years, asked if he might have the privilege of saying a few words.
He, as doctor, as counsellor on many an occasion, was best able
to say what had always been wanting there. Everything had been
there, love and complete understanding and also outward happiness,
everything except--here he paused for a moment and nodded to his
hostess who was sitting opposite to him, in a friendly manner full of
comprehension--except a child's laughter. And now that was there too.
"A child's laughter--oh, what a salvation!" he cried with twinkling
eyes and voice full of emotion, as he thought of his own three, who
were certainly already independent and had chosen their paths in life,
but their laughter still sounded in his heart and ear.
"No child--no happiness. But a child brings happiness, great
happiness. And especially in this case. For I, as a doctor, have hardly
ever feas
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