"No, Amelia! I am no dancing-
bear to turn around at a ball, and to be led by the nose."
"But, Blucher, what has happened to you?" asked his wife,
wonderingly. "You were as merry and high-spirited as a young god of
spring; the violets laughed when they saw you pass by, and the snow-
drops rang their tiny bells in your honor, and now suddenly it is
winter again! Pray, tell me, what has happened to you?"
"Nothing at all has happened to me--that is just the misfortune,"
cried Blucher. "It is more than a month now since I have been
sitting here at Breslau, and nothing has happened. I am still what I
always was--an old pensioned general, who has no command, and
nothing to do but to retire to Kunzendorf and plant cabbage-heads,
while others in the field are cutting off French heads. And it will
be best for me to go back to Kunzendorf. I have nothing to do here;
no one cares for an old fellow like me. I have hoped on from day to
day, but all my hopes are gone now. Amelia, take off your tinsel,
and pack up our traps. The best thing we can do will be to start
this very evening and return to our miserable, accursed village!"
"Dear me! what a humor you are in!" exclaimed his wife, "Every thing
will be right in the end, my husband; you must not despair; things
are only taking their course a little more deliberately than my
firebrand wishes.
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