moment. The competition for it at the auction was so great that I was compelled to bid five-and-twenty louis-d’ors for it.”
“I could have saved you that expense,” replied the lady, “if you had asked my advice first. If I mistake not, the potter still lives who made it for me for a florin.”
“You jest,” said the professor, peevishly.
The counsellor laughed with mischievous joy, and requested an explanation.
“It is a long history, and there is a piece of innocent deceit connected with it, which I aided a friend of mine to practise. I have not thought about it for a long time; but your holy graal now recalls the whole to my mind. A friend of my mother’s, who had greatly aided her in bringing me up, resided with her husband, who was an Amtman, in a retired cloister, which had been converted into an Amthaus for his abode. The country around was very agreeable, and I passed a good deal of time there with much pleasure. The only drawback to my friend’s comfort was the very limited extent of the habitable part of the building, though it was otherwise spacious enough. Her husband was like some professors and counsellors of my acquaintance—a great admirer of antiquities and graals; and found in the old convent an inexhaustible fund for the indulgence of his favourite pursuit. For this purpose he scrupled not to crowd his family into the smallest possible space, and propped up the tumbling walls with beams in every direction, because he could not resolve to have the old house repaired, or a new one built. All our remonstrances were vain; and finally he carried it so far that no domestics would remain in the family for fear the house should tumble down and bury them in its ruins. At length, to our great joy, we heard that a commission was appointed, and the place was to be examined; but as the Amtman knew well that if an inspection were to take place, he could not prevent a new building being ordered, and he should be deprived of his hobby-horse, he made a journey to the capital to protest against the commission for a new edifice. My friend, with whom I happened to be at the time, was inconsolable over her disappointment, when a secretary, an acute and sensible man, suggested to her, in jest, a remedy, which however she eagerly seized on, as it was founded on an event very likely to happen, and we all agreed to assist her in the execution. This secretary remarked that the first great storm would most probably blow down the house and bury many people in its ruins; but if we were to remove all the props, it would tumble of itself; which could be done by night, after first taking care that every body and all the animals were removed to a place of security. So we chose a time when the Amtman was absent on a journey. We had only to select clever and discreet people to help us; and when it was done, we agreed to tell him that a gust of wind in the night had, we supposed, overthrown the old place, or that it had fallen of itself. My friend was delighted with this scheme, and we made every preparation accordingly. We removed all the valuable furniture, and especially all the curiosities of the master of the house. The messengers, who dwelt in the ruinous part, were instructed in our intentions, and even helped us in our labour; the uninitiated we sent out of the way on different pretences; every thing was ready; the
