Kant himself could not have puzzled my 

 uncle more effectually than did this very 

 moderate request. He expected to have 

 struck me down as with a thunderbolt, and 

 he saw that a feather had fallen upon me. 

 He was a good deal of a humorist, and 

 felt somewhat inclined to laugh ; but then 

 again he prided himself on being a man of 

 substance, and it vexed him to the heart to 

 see what he valued so highly, treated so 

 lightly; consequently he felt rather more in- 

 clined to swear. Between the two he did 

 neither. He sat down, lighted his pipe, and 

 rang the bell for the servant. 



" Step next door for Von Schaick, the 

 attorney, Sister Annschen," continued he — 

 " I will put up with this no longer. I will 

 make my will this very night, and Sla- 

 genhausen shall be the man." 



" He shall not have a stiver !" said my aunt. 



" Well see ! " said my uncle. 



" A poor, pitiful creature," said my aunt. 



" He attends to business," said my uncle. 



" A fellow that humors all your foolish 

 whims for the sake of what you may leave 

 him," said my aunt. 



"True; but he attends to business," said 

 my uncle. 



"He will not care a puff of tobacco for 

 you when you are gone," said my aunt. 



" But he will care for the counting- 

 house," said my uncle. 



" Mr. Yon Schnediker," said my aunt, in 

 her very best argumentative tone — " don't 

 make a fool of yourself! Would you cast 

 off the only son of your only brother ? " 



My uncle took his pipe from his mouth, 

 uncrossed and recrossed his legs, and put it 

 back again. 



" Disinherit a Schnediker for a Slagen- 

 hausen ? " 



My uncle's seat seemed mighty uncom- 

 fortable, and he puffed and smoked most 

 fearfully. 



" Your nepheAV — who has eaten of your 

 bread, and drank of your cup, and sat by 

 your stove for twenty years ! " 



" Pooh ! pooh ! " said my uncle, but vi- 

 sibly softening apace. 



" And, moreover," continued my aunt, 

 following up her advantage — " is he not the 

 very model of your brother ? I never saw 

 two noses so much alike in my life ! " 



My uncle looked direct at my nose. So 

 did my aunt. 



"It's the handsomest nose in Ham- 

 burgh ! " quoth she. 



My uncle felt the full force of the compli- 

 ment ; and the extreme difficulty of disin- 

 heriting a nephew with a nose so like his 

 own, became every moment more apparent. 



" We'll do nothing rashly," said he : ■' Yon 

 Schaick can take a friendly glass, and we'll 

 talk about the will another time." 



" Make it now," said my aunt — " Au- 

 gustus shall inherit the estate, marry 

 Amelia Spigelberg, and perpetuate the name 

 of Schnediker." 



To these propositions I expressed my un- 

 qualified assent ; for little as was my objec- 

 tion to inheriting the estate, I had still less 

 to marrying Amelia Spigelberg, with whom 

 I was, for a student in philosophy, I may 

 say most ridiculously in love. 



"He'll take Kant to bed with him on his 

 wedding night, and set fire to the curtains 

 with sitting up to read him," said my uncle. 



" Nonsense, brother ; you talk of things 

 you know nothing about," said my aunt. 



" Humph ! " said my uncle. 



The door opened, and in walked Mr. 

 Yon Schaick. I laid aside my books and 

 papers, and joined the tAvo worthies over a 

 social bottle. We became animated. Glass 

 followed glass; and tobacco-smoke and 

 wisdom issued from my uncle's mouth in about 

 equal quantities. To the latter I assented 

 in monosyllables, or listened in respectful 

 silence ; upon which my uncle declared he 

 had never heard me talk so sensibly in the 

 whole course of his life. Among other 

 matters, it was resolved to cure me of my 

 bookish propensities by showing me a little 

 more of the world ; and as I spoke the lan- 

 guage of England like a native, and was 

 well acquainted with her history and litera- 

 ture, it was resolved I should take a trip 

 over in a British vessel which my uncle had 

 chartered. The will was made that night ; 

 I know not precisely how, but my aunt 

 Annschen remarked the next morning, " that 

 my uncle acted sensibly enough when he 

 only took the trouble of listening to good 

 advice." 



Accordingly, in the following week, amid 

 an abundance of kisses and confectionary 

 from my aunt, sighs and tears from Amelia, 

 and cash and cordiality from my uncle, T em- 

 barked on board the British brig Swallow, for 

 London. I pass over our interesting depar- 

 ture from the mud and mist of the low 

 German shores ; I pass over, in elegant 

 silence, the pleasures of being becalmed 

 three clays off the delightful Dogger Bank, 

 famous for cod and fog. I pass over, in 

 short, all the agreeable vicissitudes of the 

 sea — storm and calm, sickness and un- 

 savory scents, and all its accumulation of 

 petty nuisances and petty substitutions for 

 comfort. It is enough, that after twelve 

 days' purgatory, I came on deck one deli- 

 cious May morning, and found the Swallow 

 skimming gracefully along the gentle bosom 

 of the Thames, surrounded on all sides by 

 an almost inconceivable number of vessels 

 sailing and tacking in every direction. The 

 scene was lively and brilliant in the ex- 

 treme, and awakened no inconsiderable 



