“In deinen Augen hab ich einst gelesen Von Lieb’ und—­Gluck—­von Lieb’ und Gluck den Schein....”

[Footnote:  (Translated):—­“In thy dear eyes I once read the story Of love and Joy—­of Love, And Joy agleam....”]

[The door closes and the sound is shut off.]

Bolland [now continues his speech].  And now the snow falls faster and faster.  This poor young man had par tout nothing to eat since the morning.  He becomes very weak; sits down on a bundle of twigs and falls asleep.  Just by sheer chance it happens that a man from Perleberg passing by sees this dejected, snowed-in figure and takes the young fellow home with him. [He pauses.] And this young man later became my father ...

Hauser.  And Herr Kommerzienrat Bolland.

Bolland.  Yes.  Herr Kommerzienrat Bolland. [To Dobler.] Now don’t you consider it quite remarkable?  Wouldn’t that make a fine novel?

Dobler.  Yes ...  Yes.

Bolland.  That could be worked up very nicely, couldn’t it?  A poor young man—­the snow covered landscape ...

Hauser.  And that bundle of twigs.

Dobler.  Fortune has her unique whims and likes to turn the tables.

Bolland.  That’s it exactly.  Fortune delights in turning the tables.

Hauser.  Unique whims?  No.  That sort of thing happens every day.

Bolland.  What happens every day?

Hauser.  The story of a poor young man who becomes a millionaire. 
Every large factory boasts of a like progenitor.

Bolland.  Do you think so?

Hauser.  And the poor young man grows poorer with each telling.  Your son, Herr Bolland, in his description will have his grandfather freeze to death on the bundle of twigs.

Bolland.  Upon my word the story is gospel. [To Dobler.] I’d make use of that plot ...  How he founded his business and how it grew and grew ...

[As Frau Beermann enters from the music room, the tremulous voice of Prof.  Wasner is heard.]

“Behuet dich Gott, es hat nicht sollen sein.” [Footnote:  God guard thee well, it was but a dream.]

[The closing of the door shuts off the sound.]

Dobler.  In one respect you are right.  The character of the self made man [Footnote:  So in original.] has hardly been treated in contemporary German literature.

Bolland [with enthusiasm].  That’s just what I claim.  Always about the poor people only.  But take a man who has a large income—­one who makes a success of his business, that also is poetry.

Hauser.  I’d have my ledger novelized, if I were you, Holland. [A maid opens door, admitting Frau Lund.]

Frau Beermann [welcoming Frau Lund].  Mama Lund, how good of you.

Frau Lund [vivaciously].  Always glad to come here.  Good afternoon, gentlemen.  Where is my little Effie?