WETTSTEIN. 73 



his immense rolls of blankets and clothing before 

 and behind, looked like a dromedary's. Planted 

 between the humps, straight as a gun-barrel, the 

 brightest of bugles suspended across his back by- 

 its tasselled yellow braid, slashed like a harlequin 

 over the breast, his arms chevroned with gorgeous 

 gold, — Wettstein, with his cap-front turned up 

 so as to let the sun fall full on his frank blue eyes 

 and his resolute blond mustache, was the very 

 picture of a cavalry bugler in active campaign. 



Smoking, gabbling, singing, rollicking, from 

 morning until night, and still on until morning 

 again if need be, he never lost spirit nor temper. 

 He seemed to absorb sunshine enough during the 

 day to keep every one bright around him all night. 

 When at last his bugle had been stilled forever, 

 we long missed the cheer of his indomitable gay- 

 ety ; wearying service became more irksome than 

 while his bubbling mirth had tempered its dul- 

 ness ; and even little Klitschka, although she 

 remained an example of steady pluck,- had never 

 so potent an influence as while he had put his 

 own unfailing mettle into her heels. After she 

 4 



