"Again to meet! again to meet!
Till then I fain would sleep;
My longings and my thoughts to steep
In Lethe's waters dark and deep.
My loved one I again shall see,
There's rapture in the thought!
In the hope tomorrow of thee,
My darling, I fear nought.
"(The _beginning_ is by myself, the _middle_ part by Schiller, and the
_end_ by a certain person called Anonymous who writes a great deal of
poetry, but I have altered his lines to suit the present case.)
"_In an agony of longing to see you, EVER THINE._"
"_No!_" cried little Mrs. Behrens when she had read the letter. "This is
really too much of a good thing! Ah, my dear sister, I'm sorry for you!
Well, it's high time for _other_ people to interfere, and I think that
being his aunt, I am the proper person to do so. And I will do it," she
exclaimed aloud, stamping her foot emphatically, "and I should like to
see who'd dare to prevent me!"
"I promise not to interfere with you, Mrs. Behrens," said Braesig, coming
from behind the bee-hives.
"Have you been listening, Braesig?" asked Mrs. Behrens rather sharply.
"'Listening!' I never listen! I only keep my ears open, and then I hear
what's going on; and I keep my eyes open, and see what passes before me.
For instance, I see that you are very cross." "Yes, but it's enough to
drive an angel wild." "Ah, Mrs. Behrens, the angels are wild enough
already in all conscience, but we don't need to speak of them just now,
for I believe that the devil himself is going about Puempelhagen.
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