the other nonsense that men worry themselves about."

The doctor only laughed and said "One day he will learn for himself what
his father meant, and if you wish to buy him cherries, you good old soul,
take him along with you and pick out the finest. You might also go to
the Nuremberg shop and let him choose the most beautiful horse, and
whatever else among the toys that he wishes for, no matter how expensive
it may be; for I owe it in part to my boy that I have attained my object,
and I must hurt him a bit more. But don't be afraid! He will hardly
feel it."

What did that remarkable man have in mind? Certainly, no good!

As Frau Schimmel felt that she stood in the place of a mother to her
darling, she demanded respectfully what the doctor meant to do to the
child.

He answered in some embarrassment, and without looking at the old lady;
"It is because I have need of a larger quantity of the elixir. If I were
to bleed another child--and bleeding is good for every one, big or
little--they would accuse me of practising the black arts and perhaps,
after their fashion of making a mountain out of a molehill, would
denounce me as an infanticide. Therefore the boy must spare a few more
drops of his blood, and he will do so gladly if he receives something
pretty as a reward. I am very skilful and can draw the blood without
hurting him."

When, however, Frau Schimmel clasped her hands, and Zeno, whimpering, hid
his face in her skirts, the doctor hastened to add: "There, there, I am
not going to do it at once, and perhaps it is just as well that I should