son-in-law; and the shower of ink-bottles from the battlements was heavier than ever.
The second day after this the gnome appeared to Count Krappentrapp.
"How do you do?" said the Count.
"Thank you," said the gnome; "I'm pretty well. It's an awful thing being married."
"Oh, no. Don't be dispirited."
"Ah, it's all very well for you to say that, but—Is the lady ready?" said he, changing the subject abruptly.
"Ready, I should think so. She's sitting in the banqueting hall in full bridal array, panting for your arrival."
"O! do I look nervous?"
"Well, candidly, you do," said the Count.
"I'm afraid I do. Is everything prepared?"
"The preparations," said the Count, "are on the most magnificent scale. Half buns and cut oranges are scattered over the place in luxurious profusion, and there is enough gingerbierheimer and currantweinmilch on tap to float the Rob Roy canoe. Gretchen is engaged, as I speak, in cutting ham-sandwiches recklessly in the kitchen; and the Baron has taken down the 'Apartments furnished,' which has hung for ages in the stained glass windows of the banqueting hall."
"I see," said the gnome, "to give a tone to the thing."
"Just so. Altogether it will be the completest thing you ever saw."
"Well," said the gnome, "then I think I'll dress."
For he had not yet taken his human form.
