THE PRUSSIAN GENTLEMAN. 275 



" At last I got to de house, and I knocks hard at de door all 

 vas asleep, and I knock again. Veil, vhen I had knocked five or six 

 time mein friendt's wife look out of de vindow, and I says, ' I vants 



Mr. / Veil, she told me he vas very ill, and mustn't be roused 



but I knocks again once, twice and den mein friendt, vid his 

 face vhite as a sheet, looks out of de vindow, and asks, mit all his 



eyes, vhat I vanted so early ? And I says, Mr. , my bill is due 



to-day/ ' Veil!' he said, ' I know. Veil!' 'I can't take it up.' 

 'And did you come to tell me dat?' 'Yes.' 'For vhat?' 

 ' 'Cause it vouldn't let me sleep and as I couldn't sleep, I vas de- 

 tarmined you shouldn't/ " When we remonstrated with Hans on the 

 unchristian spirit of such notification, all his reply was, " Oh, sir, 

 you can't tink how comfortable it made me !" 



Hans is a fellow of some humour ; and has, more than once, in 

 examination, afforded mirth to the lawyers. On one occasion he had 

 to justify bail, and was probed pretty deeply as to the extent and 

 character of his property. He had to justify to the amount of 700. 

 " So, Mr. Kutzlus," commenced the counsel, " you are, it seems, a 

 man of wealth. Pray, sir, of what does your property consist ?" 

 " Of pictures." " Oh! ho! pictures ! Well, I'm a bit of an ama- 

 teur myself, and so 'tis lucky that we have fallen into each other's 

 hands. We can have some talk on the arts. I declare you have 

 quite the look of one of the cognoscenti. What are these pictures ?" 

 " Vy, I have one picture, dat " " Ha ! let us hear about that one 

 picture. That's doubtless the eye and soul of the collection. At 

 how much do you value it?" te At a tousand pound!" " A thou- 

 sand pound ! A Rembrandt, doubtless ? No ! Well, a Titian ? 



A Claude ? A Correggio ? A Rubens ? A by none of the great 



masters ? and yet you value it at a thousand pounds ! Pray, whose 

 picture is it ?" 



" Mein vife's!" was the laconic answer of the witness. The coun- 

 sel was silent, and the court laughed at the connubial spirit displayed 

 by our hero. 



In another instance, the cunning of Hans did not produce the like 

 fortunate results. His dealings were, as our readers may imagine, of 

 a miscellaneous character. He had, in the course of his traffic, be- 

 come engaged in a matter, in which the secretion -of some ship- 

 anchors was the point in dispute. The business was submitted to 

 judicial inquiry, and Hans mounted the witness-box. However, our 

 hero conceived it to his advantage, suddenly to forget the by no 

 means limited stock of English that he had been some years ac- 

 quiring. To all the questions of judge or counsel, he replied in Gascon 

 French. When repeatedly asked, " what he had done with the 

 anchors?" his only rejoinder was, suiting the action to the word, 

 " Mange mange !" As he had thus confessed to having te eaten" 

 the anchors, he was very unexpectedly sent down to " digest" them. 



Kutzlus was the natural enemy of all pawnbrokers. Many and 

 ingenious were the tricks he put upon the worthy fraternity of Lom- 

 bard merchants. We have heard him recount, with inexpressible 

 glee, one master-stroke of chicane. He had had manufactured, for 

 the novice, several rolls of what seemed " fine, grass-bleached Irish 

 linen !" With one of these under his arm, he was wont to enter the 



