"Where is the game?"

"Whew!" ejaculated her husband, "I can stand these clothes no longer."
Thus saying, he hastened into the house, and proceeded to his apartment.

But this respite was of short duration. Mistress Ulrica Eugenie was
familiar with the road to the chamber, and her rage reached its highest
point, when she heard that the game which was intended for her dinner,
had been stolen while her husband, overcome by his arduous exertions,
had fallen asleep.

"O, if I only knew who did this, yes, if I only knew, I would have the
rascal put in the stocks. But you, you dormouse, yes you, you call
yourself a man! you! Don't you wish to borrow my petticoat! To sleep
when engaged in the noble art of hunting! To complain of fatigue! Fie
upon such men! But can you not discover the thief?"

"No, my dear, I assure you. I cannot, how could I know what happened
while I was sleeping?"

"That is the reason why you never knew anything in your life," replied
the exasperated woman. "But see there comes Gottlieb with a partridge in
his hand. He is a pattern. _He_ never allows _his_ game to be stolen,"
and Mistress Ulrica composed her features, and assumed an expression of
motherly benevolence, while she descended the stairs to receive her
nephew.

"Thank you, good Gottlieb," said she meeting him at the door, "thank
you, your uncle has been unfortunate this morning; but come with me to