could not be found amongst the furniture of the castle some harpsichord. Miss Adelheid, the lady companion, in vain cried out and swore that, in the memory of man, nothing had been heard of at R—sitten, but the notes of the horn and the howling of packs. I was strong for succeeding in my project, when we saw Franz passing by.
"Truly," exclaimed Miss Adelheid, "he is the only man I know that is capable of giving good advice in the most embarrassing cases; and I defy you to make him pronounce the word impossible."
We called Franz. The good man, after turning his hat in his hands for some time, ended by remembering that the wife of the steward, who lived in the neighboring village, possessed a harpsichord, on which she formerly accompanied her singing with so pathetic an accent, that in listening to her every one wept, as if they had rubbed their eyes with onion peels.
"A harpsichord! we will have a harpsichord," exclaimed Miss Adelheid.
"Yes," said Franz, "but a little misfortune has happened to it; the organist of the village, having wished to try on it the air of a hymn of his own invention, dislocated the machine whilst playing."
"What a misfortune!" exclaimed the baroness and Adelheid, both at once.
"So that," continued Franz, "it has been necessary to carry the harpsichord to the neighboring city, to have it repaired."
"But has it been brought back?" interrupted Miss Adelheid, quickly.
"I do not doubt it, my gracious young lady," replied Franz, "and the steward's wife would be very much honored, very much pleased——"
At this moment the baron appeared, stopped before our group, and passed on, saying to his wife:—"Well, dear friend, old Franz is he still the man to give good advice?"
The baroness was speechless; Franz was immovable, his
