“A little bit,” said the old gentleman.

“Be off!” said Schwartz.

“Pray, gentlemen—­”

“Off, and be hanged!” cried Hans, seizing him by the collar.  But he had no sooner touched the old gentleman’s collar, than away he went after the rolling-pin, spinning round and round, till he fell into the corner on the top of it.  Then Schwartz was very angry, and ran at the old gentleman to turn him out; but he also had hardly touched him, when away he went after Hans and the rolling-pin, and hit his head against the wall as he tumbled into the corner.  And so there they lay, all three.

Then the old gentleman spun himself round with velocity in the opposite direction; continued to spin until his long cloak was all wound neatly about him; clapped his cap on his head, very much on one side (for it could not stand upright without going through the ceiling), gave an additional twist to his corkscrew moustaches, and replied with perfect coolness:  “Gentlemen, I wish you a very good morning.  At twelve o’clock to-night I’ll call again; after such a refusal of hospitality as I have just experienced, you will not be surprised if that visit is the last I ever pay you.”

“If ever I catch you here again,” muttered Schwartz, coming half frightened out of his corner—­but, before he could finish his sentence, the old gentleman had shut the house door behind him with a great bang:  and there drove past the window, at the same instant, a wreath of ragged cloud, that whirled and rolled away down the valley in all manner of shapes; turning over and over in the air, and melting away at last in a gush of rain.

“A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. Gluck!” said Schwartz.  “Dish the mutton, sir.  If ever I catch you at such a trick again—­bless me, why, the mutton’s been cut!”

“You promised me one slice, brother, you know,” said Gluck.

“Oh! and you were cutting it hot, I suppose, and going to catch all the gravy.  It’ll be long before I promise you such a thing again.  Leave the room, sir; and have the kindness to wait in the coal cellar till I call you.”

Gluck left the room melancholy enough.  The brothers ate as much mutton as they could, locked the rest in the cupboard and proceeded to get very drunk after dinner.

Such a night as it was!  Howling wind, and rushing rain, without intermission.  The brothers had just sense enough left to put up all the shutters, and double bar the door, before they went to bed.  They usually slept in the same room.  As the clock struck twelve, they were both awakened by a tremendous crash.  Their door burst open with a violence that shook the house from top to bottom.

“What’s that?” cried Schwartz, starting up in his bed.

“Only I,” said the little gentleman.

The two brothers sat up on their bolster, and stared into the darkness.  The room was full of water, and by a misty moonbeam, which found its way through a hole in the shutter, they could see in the midst of it an enormous foam globe, spinning round, and bobbing up and down like a cork, on which, as on a most luxurious cushion, reclined the little old gentleman, cap and all.  There was plenty of room for it now, for the roof was off.