Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. Falk jumped up in a rage. Who was that knocking at the door? He wanted to be left alone, having made up his mind to settle down to work at last.<br><br>Thank the Lord, it was not a friend. It was the postman.<br><br>He was about to toss the letter aside. There was no hurry. – But what was this? From Mikita!<br><br>Now he was in a quiver. Mikita, the dear fellow!<br><br>He tore open the envelope.<br><br>Be at home in the afternoon. I am returning from Paris.<br><br>The lengthiest composition from Mikita’s pen since that famous German essay of his written several years before.<br><br>Falk burst out laughing. A marvellous production, that German essay. Strange that they hadn’t expelled him from college for it. A miracle.<br><br>It was a series of reflections, daringly heretical for a student of those days, couched in the form of New Years greetings and resolutions.<br><br>And old Frankel, how he had stormed! Delicious! Mikita had certainly taken a risk.<br><br>Falk recalled having urged him to write down his reflections, the basic idea of which was a capital German pun – Was einem Schiller erlaubt ist, sollte einem Schuller nicht erlaubt sein?
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