The zealous priest's cheeks glowed with anger, terrible were the threats he uttered, and declaring that the festival of St.
John should not be celebrated, unless the shameless wretch, who had blasphemously shattered the steeple window, confessed his fault, he scanned the pupils with rolling eyes.
Young Count Lips stepped boldly forward, saying beseechingly: "I did it, Father--unintentionally! Forgive me!" "You ?" asked the monk, his voice growing lower and more gentle, as he continued: "Folly and wantonness without end! When will you learn discretion, Count Philipp?
But as you did it unintentionally, I will let it pass for to-day." With these words, the monk left the court-yard; and as soon as the gate had closed behind him, Ulrich approached his generous companion, and said in a tone that only he could hear, yet grateful to the inmost depths of his heart: "I will repay you some day." "Nonsense!" laughed the young count, throwing his arm over the shoulder of the artisan's son.

"If the glass wouldn't rattle, I would throw now; but there's another day coming to-morrow.".