Indeed, I wish for no letter at all from you, you simple old-fashioned Tony, who believe that to act uprightly is as easy a thing as to eat a slice of bread and butter; for, as soon as I have done all I can, buried some, fed others, and offended my colleagues as much as possible, I shall go for a few months to the far southwest, to some noble prairie, where one may find alligators, and horned owls, and something more aristocratic than there is here.

If the prairie afford pen and ink, I shall write to you again.
If this letter be the last you ever get from me, devote a tear to my memory, and say, in your benevolent way, 'I am sorry for him: he was not without his good points.'" Then came a precise description of Fink's affairs, and of the statutes of the association.
Having read this unsatisfactory letter, Anton sat down at once and spent the night in writing to his friend.
Even in the common light of the next day our hero retained his feelings of the night before.

Whether he worked at his desk or jested with his friends, he felt conscious how deeply his life was footed in the walls of the old house.

The rest saw it too.

Besides other marks of favor, Anton often spent the evenings with the principal and the ladies.