Von Reineck, of an old patrician family, able, honest, but stubborn, a meagre, swarthy man, whom I never saw smile.  The misfortune befell him that his only daughter was carried off by a friend of the family.  He pursued his son-in-law with the most vehement prosecution:  and because the tribunals, with their formality, were neither speedy nor sharp enough to gratify his desire of vengeance, he fell out with them; and there arose quarrel after quarrel, suit after suit.  He retired completely into his own house and its adjacent garden, lived in a spacious but melancholy lower room, into which for many years no brush of a whitewasher, and perhaps scarcely the broom of a maid-servant, had found its way.  He was very fond of me, and had especially commended to me his younger son.  He many times asked his oldest friends, who knew how to humor him, his men of business and agents, to dine with him, and on these occasions never omitted inviting me.  There was good eating and better drinking at his house.  But a large stove, that let out the smoke from many cracks, caused his guests the greatest pain.  One of the most intimate of these once ventured to remark upon this, by asking the host whether he could put up with such an inconvenience all the winter.  He answered, like a second Timon or Heautontimoroumenos, “Would to God this was the greatest evil of those which torment me!” It was long before he allowed himself to be persuaded to see his daughter and grandson.  The son-in-law never again dared to come into his presence.

On this excellent but unfortunate man my visits had a very favorable effect; for while he liked to converse with me, and particularly instructed me on world and state affairs, he seemed to feel himself relieved and cheered.  The few old friends who still gathered round him, often, therefore, made use of me when they wished to soften his peevish humor, and persuade him to any diversion.  He now really rode out with us many times, and again contemplated the country, on which he had not cast an eye for so many years.  He called to mind the old landowners, and told stories of their characters and actions, in which he showed himself always severe, but often cheerful and witty.  We now tried also to bring him again among other men, which, however, nearly turned out badly.

About the same age, if indeed not older, was one Herr Von Malapert, a rich man, who possessed a very handsome house by the horse-market, and derived a good income from salt-pits.  He also lived quite secluded; but in summer he was a great deal in his garden, near the Bockenheim gate, where he watched and tended a very fine plot of pinks.