"I was there myself," said Archivarius Lindhorst; "did you not see me?
But, among the mad pranks you were playing, I had nigh got lamed; for
I was sitting in the punch-bowl, at the very moment when Registrator
Heerbrand laid hands on it, to dash it against the ceiling; and I had
to make a quick retreat into the Conrector's pipehead. Now, adieu,
Herr Anselmus! Be diligent at your task; for the lost day also you
shall have a speziesthaler, because you worked so well before."
"How can the Archivarius babble such mad stuff?" thought the student
Anselmus, sitting down at the table to begin the copying of the
manuscript, which Archivarius Lindhorst had as usual spread out before
him. But on the parchment roll he perceived so many strange crabbed
strokes and twirls all twisted together in inexplicable confusion,
offering no resting-point for the eye, that it seemed to him well-nigh
impossible to copy all this exactly. Nay, in glancing over the whole,
you might have thought the parchment was nothing but a piece of
thickly veined marble, or a stone sprinkled over with lichens.
Nevertheless he determined to do his utmost, and boldly dipped in
his pen; but the ink would not run, do what he would; impatiently
he spirted the point of his pen against his nail, and--Heaven and
Earth!--a huge blot fell on the out-spread original! Hissing and
foaming, a blue flash rose from the blot, and, crackling and wavering,
shot through the room to the ceiling.
Pages:
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560