Then up came Mr.Pix, and shook his hand long, not remarking that his black brush, during the up-and-down movement, was making all sorts of hieroglyphics on his young friend's coat.

Next Anton went into the counting-house, where the lights were already burning, and heartily cried out "Good-evening." His colleagues rose like one man, and with loud expressions of pleasure crowded about him.

Mr.Schroeter hurried out of his own room, and his grave face beamed with satisfaction.

These were happy moments, indeed, and Anton was more moved than became such a traveled man.

And on his way from the counting-house to his room, old Pluto sprang out impetuously, immoderately wagging his matted tail, so that Anton could hardly escape from his caresses.