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the Doktor's interest was so arousedias to make him oblivious of all errors, or all must be correct.j
The conversation continues.
Herr Pryce, forgetting to answer, asks: "Herr Laird, kormen Sie."
Herr Laird-"Ich kann." QThe prodigy never crrs.j "Herr Palmer, wohncn Sie in P'burg?"
One can best understand the righteous indignation of this ill-timed insinuation when it is
realized that Herr Palmer comes from no less a place than Pen Argyl. Palmer's fury bid fair
to play havoc with the conversation and the Doktor's peace, but the mighty Pryce restrains him.
Subsiding, Herr Palmer shouts, "Nein, never!" and asks "Herr MoFfat, Wo waren Sie last night?"
Herr Moffat-"Ich Weiss nicht." This unexpected truth was so sudden that the class almost
awakened the Doktor from his infatuation, but Herr Moffat quickly asks: "Herr Miller R., sind
Sic frisch?" '
Herr Miller, not understanding this last word, and seeing in it only a humiliating insinuation,
assumes a belligerent attitude by taking off his glasses and preparing to take off his coat. Herr
Moffat tremblcs and tries to explain. The class anxiously awaits. At this point our prodigy
Herr Laird assumes the role of peaccmaker and averts hostilities by starting the conversation with,
"Herr Ketchledge, wohin gchcn Sie to-night?"
QThe Doktor must have reached the theatrical page of the magazine, for it verily seemed
as though he couldn't be aroused and all wondered whether he would hear the bell.j
For unknownC?j reasons Kctchledge refuses to answer, thereby only adding to the aroused
emotions of the class. He then asks:
"Herr DeWees, sind Sie fleissig?"
That gentleman feeling slighted that he had been asked an question which required so simple
an answer, was by no means discomfited, but began a lengthy discussion of- Qwe don't know
what he said, so we can't say on what subject he was dissertatingj. After what seemed to be an
enumeration or a conjugation of verbs at the end of his sentence he asks:
"Herr Fegely, konnen Sie Deutsch sprechen P"
"Ya, e kin ditsch sprechenf'
This was too much. Such accents were what was needed to arouse the Doktor from his
rapturous enjoyment of the aesthetic product of the artist's imagination. Roughly brought to
earth, the Doktor leaps to his feet, and with fire in his eye, scans the class for the offender. In-
stinctively his eyes settle on Fegely who, for the second time in one day, had disgraced, nay con-
taminated, the sacred precincts of the German lecture room with vulgar Pennsylvania Dutch.
Fegely looks guilty and shrinks back in fear. The Doktor's glare is terrible. The class is breath-
But lo! the true magnificence of the Doktor, whose countless virtues we could not enumerate,
was brilliantly displayed. With remarkable self-control he became calmg with a look quells the
utterly humiliated Fegelyg and with a wisdom, rivaling Solomon, calls music to the rescue of
his troubled soul. He approaches the piano, deftly runs his lingers over a few keys, looks to the
class for approval, plays the Melodei, and puts heart and soul into a classic rendering of that
sehonste Jungfrau, the Lorelei. As the last notes were still dying away, the ecstatic delight of