happily for him, off fell his fatal shoes--and with them the charm was at an
end.

The Councillor saw quite distinctly before him a lantern burning, and behind
this a large handsome house. All seemed to him in proper order as usual; it
was East Street, splendid and elegant as we now see it. He lay with his feet
towards a doorway, and exactly opposite sat the watchman asleep.

"Gracious Heaven!" said he. "Have I lain here in the street and dreamed? Yes;
'tis East Street! How splendid and light it is! But really it is terrible
what an effect that one glass of punch must have had on me!"

Two minutes later, he was sitting in a hackney-coach and driving to
Frederickshafen. He thought of the distress and agony he had endured, and
praised from the very bottom of his heart the happy reality--our own
time--which, with all its deficiencies, is yet much better than that in which,
so much against his inclination, he had lately been.


III. The Watchman's Adventure

"Why, there is a pair of galoshes, as sure as I'm alive!" said the watchman,
awaking from a gentle slumber. "They belong no doubt to the lieutenant who
lives over the way. They lie close to the door."

The worthy man was inclined to ring and deliver them at the house, for there
was still a light in the window; but he did not like disturbing the other
people in their beds, and so very considerately he left the matter alone.

"Such a pair of shoes must be very warm and comfortable," said he; "the