He had already adopted the generally accepted maxim, never to show eagerness lest the opponent draw an advantage from it.  Hence the remarkable calm and cold-bloodedness in farmers, which diplomats should admire.  But in its full extent and application it is a vicious policy, which causes unspeakable evil, estranges countless people, makes them appear enemies to one another, generates coldness where generous zeal should be kindled, and results in an indifference which causes an involuntary goose-flesh to scamper up the back of every friend of goodness.

The master did not take the reply amiss, but said that he felt the same way.  He had nothing against Uli; but things would have to change.  He wanted to know who was in the wrong, and whether he couldn’t say a word in his own house any more without getting cross words all the week and seeing a face sour enough to poison all America.

He couldn’t help it, said Uli.  To look cross was his style of friendliness, and if his face hadn’t looked the same as usual it wasn’t on his master’s account, for he had no special complaint against him or anybody.  But he was only a poor servant after all, and had no right to a home or any fun; he was on earth only to be unhappy, and when ever he tried to forget his misery and have a good time everybody got after him and tried to put him down.  Whoever could shove him into misfortune, did so.  Who could be expected to look sweet all the time?

He ought to see that he didn’t want to shove him into misfortune—­quite the contrary, said the master.  If any one was doing that it was himself.  When a lad went with bad girls he was the cause of his own misfortune, and no one else.  “No, Uli,” continued the master, “you must give up your loose living; you make yourself unhappy, and I won’t have such vexation as you’ve caused me this week.”

He hadn’t done anything bad, Uli rejoined.

“Ho, ho,” said the master; “I wonder whether getting full is something good.”

Oh, there were much worse than he, said Uli, and there were lots of farmers that he couldn’t hold a candle to.

He couldn’t deny it, said the master, but a bad man didn’t make the others good, and even if many a farmer was a drunkard or even a scoundrel, that didn’t make Uli any better if he was a loafer and other things besides.

Well, a man surely ought to be allowed to have some fun, said Uli; who’d want to live if he couldn’t have any fun any more?

“But Uli, is it any fun if you don’t want to see anybody for a week afterward, if you don’t feel happy anywhere?  Is it any fun if it can make you miserable and unhappy for the rest of your life?  Such fun is the devil’s bait.  Of course you can have your fun; every man has a right to it, but in good and right ways.  You can tell whether a man is good or bad by his enjoyment of good or bad things.”