"May I ask with whom I have the pleasure of speaking?" asked the Councillor.

"I am a Bachelor in Theologia," answered the gentleman with a stiff reverence.

This reply fully satisfied the Councillor; the title suited the dress. "He is
certainly," thought he, "some village schoolmaster--some queer old fellow,
such as one still often meets with in Jutland."

"This is no locus docendi, it is true," began the clerical gentleman; "yet I
beg you earnestly to let us profit by your learning. Your reading in the
ancients is, sine dubio, of vast extent?"

"Oh yes, I've read something, to be sure," replied the Councillor. "I like
reading all useful works; but I do not on that account despise the modern
ones; 'tis only the unfortunate 'Tales of Every-day Life' that I cannot
bear--we have enough and more than enough such in reality."

"'Tales of Every-day Life?'" said our Bachelor inquiringly.

"I mean those new fangled novels, twisting and writhing themselves in the dust
of commonplace, which also expect to find a reading public."

"Oh," exclaimed the clerical gentleman smiling, "there is much wit in them;
besides they are read at court. The King likes the history of Sir Iffven and
Sir Gaudian particularly, which treats of King Arthur, and his Knights of the
Round Table; he has more than once joked about it with his high vassals."

"I have not read that novel," said the Councillor; "it must be quite a new
one, that Heiberg has published lately."