“I didn’t mean anything,” replied my enemy the waiter. “Perhaps I disturbed him by sitting down.”

The waiter did not understand me, and my German was wasted on him. The rude porter was about to take the waiter’s part; but I fell upon him so impetuously that the porter pretended not to understand me, and waved his hand.

The hunchbacked dishwasher, either because she perceived my wrathful state, and feared a scandal, or possibly because she shared my views, took my part, and, trying to force her way between me and the porter, told him to hold his tongue, saying that I was right, but at the same time urging me to calm myself.

“ Der Herr hat Recht; Sie haben Recht ,” she said over and over again. The minstrel’s face presented a most pitiable, terrified expression; and evidently he did not understand why I was angry, and what I wanted: and he urged me to let him go away as soon as possible.