"I am Professor von Baumgarten," said the student. "May I ask who you are? I am strangely familiar with your features."
"Yen should never tell lies, young man," said the other. "You're certainly not the professor, for he is an ugly snuffy old chap, and you are a big broad-shouldered young fellow. As to myself, I am Fritz von Hartmann, at your service."
"That you certainly are not!" exclaimed the body of von Hartmann. "You might very well be his father. But hullo, sir, are you aware that you are wearing my studs and my watch-chain?"
"Donnerwetter!" hiccuped the other. "If those are not the trousers for which my tailor is about to sue me, may I never taste beer again!"
Now as von Hartmann, overwhelmed by the many strange things which had occurred to him that day, passed his hand over his forehead and cast his eyes downward, he chanced to catch the reflection of his own face in a pool which the rain had left upon the road. To his utter astonishment he perceived that his face was that of a youth, that his dress was that of a fashionable young student, and that in every way he was the antithesis of die grave and scholarly figure in which his mind was wont to dwell. In an instant his active brain ran over the series of events which had occurred and sprang to the conclusion. He fairly reeled under the blow.
"Himmel!" he cried, "I see it all. Our souls are in the wrong bodies. I am you and you are I. My theory is proved—but at what an expense! Is the most scholarly mind in Europe to go about with this frivolous exterior? Oh, the labors of a lifetime are ruined!" and he smote his breast in his despair.
"I say," remarked the real von Hartmann from the body of the professor, "I quite see the force of your remarks, but don't go knocking my body about like that. You received it in excellent condition, but I perceive you have wet it and bruised it, and spilled snuff over my ruffled shirt-front."
"It matters little," the other said, moodily. "Such as we are, so must we stay. My theory is triumphantly proved, but the cost is terrible."
"If I thought so," said the spirit of the student, "it would be hard indeed. What could I do with these stiff old limbs, and how could I woo Elise and persuade her that I was not her father? No, thank heaven, in spite of the beer which has upset me more than it ever could upset my real self, I can see a way out of it."
"How?" gasped the professor.
"Why, by repeating the experiment. Liberate our souls once more, and the chances are that they will find their way back into their respective bodies."
No drowning man could clutch more eagerly at a straw than did von Baumgarten's spirit at this suggestion. In feverish haste he dragged his own frame to the side of the road and threw it into a mesmeric trance; he then extracted the crystal ball from die pocket, and managed to bring himself into the same condition.
Some students and peasants who chanced to pass during the next hour were much astonished to see the worthy professor of physiology and his favorite student both sitting upon a very muddy bank and both completely insensible. Before the hour was up quite a crowd had assembled, and they were discussing the advisability of sending for an ambulance to convey the pair to a hospital, when the learned savant opened his eyes and gazed vacantly around him. For an instant he seemed to forget how he had come there, but next moment he astonished his audi-
