By fortune a most exalted sculptor in Berlin has him ready,--and many horses pulled him to here, to Lovely View, by post-haste; sthat we know.

But we are in extremity of puzzlement.

For where is the statue to ride him?
where--am I plain to you, sirs ?--is sthe Marshal Furst von Eppenwelzen, our great ancestor?
Yet the Markgrafin says, "It is right, wait!" She nods, she smiles.

Our Court is all at de lake-palace odder side sthe tower, and it is bets of gems, of feathers, of lace, not to be numbered! The Markgrafin says--sthere to-day you see him, Albrecht Wohlgemuth Furst von Eppenwelzen! But no sculptor can have cast him in bronze--not copied him and cast him in a time of seven days! And we say sthis:--Has she given a secret order to a sculptor--you understand me, sirs, commission--where, how, has he sthe likeness copied?
Or did he come to our speisesaal of our lake-palace disguised?
Oh! but to see, to copy, to model, to cast in bronze, to travel betwixt Berlin and Sarkeld in a time of seven days?
No! so-oh! we guess, we guess, we are in exhaustion.

And to-day is like an eagle we have sent an arrow to shoot and know not if he will come down.