Braesig, “but I want you to understand clearly from the very beginning that I will strangle you if ever you cause my little godchild to shed a tear.”  And as he spoke he looked so determined, that one might have thought he was going to begin the operation at once.  “Thank you, Mina,” he said, taking the flower from her, and after smelling it putting it in his button-hole.  “And now come here, Mina, and I will give you my blessing.  Nay, you needn’t go down on your knees, for I’m not one of your parents, I’m only your godfather.  And, Moshoo Rudolph, I promise to take your part this afternoon when your father comes, and to help you to free yourself from being bound to a profession you don’t like.  Come away both of you, we must go in now.  But, Rudolph, remember you musn’t sit on the grass and read, but must see to the proper manuring of your fields yourself.  Look, this is the way the farm-lads ought to hold their pitch-forks, not like that.  Bang! and tumble off all that is on it; no, they must shake the fork gently three or four times, breaking and spreading the manure as they do so.  When a bit of ground is properly spread it ought to look as smooth and clean as a velvet table-cover.”  He then went into the house accompanied by the two young people.

[The love affairs of both young couples ran smoothly, since uncle Braesig was on their side.  Godfrey and Lina were married first and, when pastor Behrens died, moved into the parsonage of Guerlitz, for Godfrey was elected the dear old man’s successor.  Rudolph studied agriculture and, when he had mastered his subject, returned to Rexow, where he was intrusted with the management of the farm, and married Mina.  No finer wedding had ever been celebrated in the neighborhood.  All the rich relatives of Joseph Nuessler were present, in addition to the more intimate friends.  There was also a horde of young people whom uncle Braesig had been permitted to invite from Rahnstaedt, where he had been living since his retirement on a pension.

Mina looked for all the world like a rosy apple lying on a silver plate surrounded by its green leaves as she stood there in her white satin gown and myrtle wreaths.  Uncle Braesig was groomsman, and blew his nose energetically as he said:  “My little Mina!  My little godchild!  How happy she looks!” and every time one of the fat old Nuessler’s gave Mina a kiss, he bent down and kissed Mrs. Behrens, as much as to imply that he thought this would prevent any contamination of his goddaughter by the foolish old Nuesslers with their wretched worldly notions.  But finally, when Braesig was about to salute her again, she said:  “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Braesig.”  Then Braesig drew back rather crestfallen and said:  “Don’t take it ill of me, Mrs. Behrens, my feelings ran away with me.”