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Here is a deep lake of white fog which marks a marsh, and into it flow winding streams that are level with the treetops on the margin. Here the moon by night is distilling and vatting mountain dew from which all wild creatures may drink deep without fear of deleterious effects. It is the cup that cheers and does not inebriate.
"Sure enough," exclaimed Blucher, laughing, "if you had not taken me prisoner, I should now be a poor old pensioned Swedish veteran. But you certainly took me prisoner, I really believe you did!" "I have the proofs that I did," said the old man solemnly. "Christian!" "Here I am, vatting," said Christian, rising. "What do you want?" "Give me the memorandum-book with the papers."
"I believe that," said the old man, gravely, "and it is not so easy to understand one must he a native of Mecklenburg to understand it." "It is a pity that you cannot sing," said Blucher, sighing. "But, perhaps Christian can," said old Hennemann. "Tell me, Christian, can you sing?" "Yes, vatting," replied Christian, clearing his throat. "'Vatting!" exclaimed Blucher. "What does that mean?"
You appear, malefactor, to have committed crimes and of all these you have been proved guilty by the ingenious arrangement invoked by the learned recorder of my spoken word which render you liable to hanging, slicing, pressing, boiling, roasting, grilling, freezing, vatting, racking, twisting, drawing, compressing, inflating, rending, spiking, gouging, limb-tying, piecemeal-pruning and a variety of less tersely describable discomforts with which the time of this court need not be taken up.
Christian drew from his blue coat a red morocco memorandum-book and handed it to his father. "Here, vatting," he said, "every thing is in it, the certificate of birth, the enlistment paper, the discharge, and the other thing." "I just want to get the other thing," said the old man, opening the memorandum-book, "and here it is!" He took out a yellow piece of cloth and handed it to Blucher.
"Well, it means that he loves his father, and therefore calls him, in good Mecklenburg style, 'vatting." "Sure enough, I remember now," exclaimed Blucher. I will no longer be a bad boy! I will not be naughty!
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