and your little wife would let me kiss her fair, soft little hands; it
would be delicious! Then I should hear a little scolding and quarrelling
in the house, and you would take care that your little lady-wife should
not spoil me by too much fondness, and you would order my dinners and
select my wearing apparel according to my health. Perhaps I might sleep
a little after meals at the open window--a luxury I always longed for,
but did not dare to indulge in. This would be life for me, and a slow
and sweet transit from the cares and troubles of this world into
heaven."

The old man became quite excited over this ideal picture of happiness.
"I speak of heaven," he continued, "and this reminds me of the church.
Do you know why I say my prayers outside among the beggars, and never go
into the church? Not out of humility, but because at present there is
only a simple Slav minister here, and I am not over-anxious to listen to
his orations. Besides, the church is always so full of the Slav peasants
that you cannot breathe inside of it, such an infernal odour is diffused
by them. But if you would come to live here, and bring a gentle little
Hungarian lady with you, perhaps the bishop could be induced to send
some nice Hungarian priest to preach to us; and I am very fond of a good
sermon, especially if I could listen to it comfortably in my pew, as you
may wager that not one of these burly peasants would go inside the
church if the service were held in Hungarian. And then just fancy the
happiness if there should be a christening in the family, and I should
be godfather to your son! Would not that be glorious? Oh, if I could
live to see it! You must make haste and marry, or I'll put speed into
you, you may rely on that!"

I was ready with my diagnosis by the time he had finished his last
sentence. Hallucinations born of religious frenzy; idiosyncrasies with