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Frielinghausen had obtained his discharge from the army. Minna Victoria was the only child and heiress of the manager of a large place of entertainment, and Baron Walther von Frielinghausen played the part of manager in place of his father-in-law, the rather impossible Papa Willy Kettke.

Late in the afternoon, Walther directed him to saddle and bridle a fine young horse and lead him to the front of the castle. "One of the young noblemen who was wounded in a great battle in the west has been recovering from his wound at Zillenstein," he said, "and he has been riding every day toward evening. You will hold the horse until he comes, but he is always prompt."

Some one approaches, testing as he comes the strings of a lute, if they be in tune. The light has disappeared from the shoe-maker's window. Walther is again for dashing down the lane toward the city-gate and the horses. "But no! Can't you hear?" his lady hangs back. "Some one else has come and taken up his station there." "I hear it and see it. It is some street-musician.

The congregation when the curtain rises is concluding an anthem to the "noble Baptist." Eva and Magdalene, her nurse, are in one of the pews that fill the nave of the church. Walther stands in the aisle, leaning against a pillar, from which position he can watch the fair one.

Walther, in his ode to Duke Leopold, has almost anticipated Shakespeare, when he sings His largess, like the gentle rain, Refresheth land and folk. Vienna and the memorable Wartburg in Thuringia were the acknowledged centres of taste and good breeding. They were the courts of last resort in all questions of style, grammar and versification.

And so dear Sachs, while Eva and Walther rejoice on their side, and David and Lene to whom the apprentice's promotion opens vistas of mastership and marriage, rejoice on theirs, Sachs, adding a less glad but more serene voice to the glorious sheaf of song, reveals his heart, with no one to listen, for all are singing.

Francis well and was one of those who had nursed him during his last illness, a dispute had arisen between Heinz Schorlin, the armor bearer, and his servant Walther Biberli, for each desired to give up his saddle to the old man and pursue his journey on foot for his sake and the praise of God.

Airily, confidently, debonairly, Walther delivers himself, in the sweet ingenuousness of his heart, "new," as he had said, ignorant as yet of the jealous world's ways: "Beside my quiet hearth in winter-time, when castle and court were buried in snow, in an ancient book, bequeathed to me by my fathers, I was wont to read recorded the engaging beauties of past Springs, as well as, prophesied, the beauties of the Spring soon to reawaken.

Walther agreed with him and John deftly postponed the time until about four o'clock, the warmest and brightest part of the afternoon, when he thought it most likely that Julie would come again. He led the horse back and forth along a road that led from the stables to a forest hanging on the slope, being in sight of the terrace about half the way.

To him this collection here, to let him waste it in riot, and sell it for an old song? No friend can give me such advice." "Be calm only," said Erich; "deliberate on the proposal dispassionately, and endeavour to sound your daughter." "No, no!" repeated Walther aloud; "it cannot, may not be!