“But I wish to do my share toward buying the cake for Aunt Steiner,” said Fritz, and he took out ten cents of the money given him by Uncle Braun, the other boys each added ten, and quite a large piece of the rich cake was ordered, wrapped in white paper, paid for and then they were ready to go to 37 Bornheimer street, for Uncle Braun had decided that they had enough sight-seeing for one day.

They parted from their kind guide with many thanks for the pleasures he had given them, and went slowly up the long steps.  When they opened the door of the cheerful supper room, all was so homelike and comfortable, and Mrs. Steiner welcomed them so gladly that they felt that it was a great blessing to have a second home.

“Dear boys,” she said, “rest a little while, then one of you get a pitcher of fresh water and all go to your room and wash faces and hands and brush your hair, and you will be refreshed and rested for supper.”

Fritz had carried the cake, and when his aunt returned to the kitchen he slipped it back of the stove until the proper time to present it, then all went to their room.

“Are you hungry?” asked Franz.

“Yes, hungry as a wolf,” replied Paul, “but don’t let us speak of it again, or Aunt Steiner will think that we are Odenwald wolves and all we came to see her for is what we get to eat.  You know what Uncle Braun said of those three young men and I don’t wish to be like them.”

Upon returning to the supper room Fritz said, “Let us set the table for Aunt Fanny.”

“All right,” responded Franz, springing up.  “Do you put on the tablecloth and I will put on the dishes.”

“No, let us both spread the cloth, and both put on the dishes,” returned Fritz, but Franz got a plate from the cupboard, and when Fritz attempted to take it out of his hands it fell to the floor and broke into many pieces.

“Now see what you have done!” ejaculated Franz.

“No, what you have done,” retorted Fritz.

Question and answer flew back and forth like snowballs in winter, and then Mrs. Steiner appeared at the door.

“Dear, dear, that is a great display of crockery!” she said.

“Franz did it,” said Fritz.

“No, it was Fritz.”

“Oh, you innocent lambs,” she said laughingly, “of course neither of you did it, so it must be that little man on the clock face who stepped down to break a plate.  Or perhaps it was the dog; he is hiding his face between his feet as if ashamed to look up.”

“No, no, Aunt Fanny, it was not my Pixy,” exclaimed Fritz, “I will take all the blame upon myself.”

“It was partly my fault,” echoed Franz, “and I am sorry that the plate is broken.”

“So am I,” rejoined Fritz, “and I will pay for it.”

“Hear him, offering to pay for it,” laughed Mrs. Steiner, “when he has no money.  Never mind, my boy, you need not pay for the plate.  I have plenty more, and here is a mark to put in your empty purse.”