"Is it right that he should spend his money in drink?--that heshould let orders lie unexecuted?--that he should do his work soill that no one cares to employ him?--that he should live ongrandfather's charity, and then dare sell a thing that is oursevery whit as much as it is his? To sell Hirschvogel! 0h, dearGod! I would sooner sell my soul!"

"August!" cried Dorothea with piteous entreaty. He terrified her;she could not recognize her little, gay, gentle brother in thosefierce and blasphemous words.

August laughed aloud again; then all at once his laughter brokedown into bitterest weeping. He threw himself forward on thestove, covering it with kisses, and sobbing as though his heartwould burst from his bosom.

What could he do? Nothing, nothing, nothing!