After a short time the old bailiff came back, and said angrily to Fred: "What are you about, Triddelfitz? You're sowing the barley much too thick."--"I don't see how that can be the case," said Fred, "I held the machine as you told me, and I measured the land myself."--"Impossible!" cried Hawermann. "My eyes can't deceive me so completely. Where's the measuring pole?"--"I hav'n't a measuring pole," said Fred, "and I don't require one," he added defiantly, for the squire's recognition of this discovery was too pleasant to be forgotten. "I measure everything with my instrument," he said, pointing to his invention which was lying at his feet--"What?" cried Hawermann, "What on earth is that?"--"An invention of mine," answered Fred, with as much pride as if he had invented the first steam engine.--"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Hawermann. "Take your hoop and measure me off ten poles length along there."--Fred lifted up his invention, and set it rolling; Hawermann walked by his side pacing the ground: "How much is that?" he asked.--"Ten poles," answered Fred.--"I only make it nine, and two feet," said the bailiff.--"That's impossible," answered Fred, "you must have miscounted, for my hoop goes quite right."--"Five of my steps make a Mecklenburg pole," said the bailiff, "but you see that you're mismanaging the whole piece of ground because you're too stupid to set to work properly. How could you expect a machine like that to answer on a hill-side, when it would require very smooth and even ground before it could possibly do at all? It's nothing but laziness--laziness! Go and get a proper measuring pole at once!" Then opening his pocket-knife he cut Fred's invention into small pieces, and after that he re-arranged the sowing-machine.
Fred stood still gazing blankly at his invention which was being chopped to bits before his eyes. It is a dreadful blow to anyone who thinks he has made a discovery that will benefit the world, when he suddenly finds that he has failed to realize his idea. Fred had meant so well--to himself first of all--and then to his colleagues, and to all land-measurers throughout the province of Mecklenburg; he had wanted to save them the trouble of stooping, and now his invention was lying at his feet an utter wreck. "I'll get the measuring pole," he said to himself, "it's no good trying now. I'd rather a thousand times work with the squire than with old Hawermann." During his walk home to get the pole, he felt very bitter against the bailiff, and quite forgot that he had ever wished to give him the best rooms in his house, and to keep a pair of carriage horses and a hack for his use. On his arrival at the farm he had a few minutes talk with Mary Möller, with whom he was on as friendly terms as ever. She told him of the squire's interview with Hawermann at the window, and he was much comforted when he heard of it. As he went back to the field with the measuring pole over his shoulder, and a nice little bit of sausage in his hand, he said to himself: "Poor old fellow, I'm not a bit angry with him now. He's old, and can't take in new ideas."