Now , Mr. Bhaer was a diffident man and slow to offer his own opinions , not because they were unsettled , but too sincere and earnest to be lightly spoken . As he glanced from Jo to several other young people , attracted by the brilliancy of the philosophic pyrotechnics , he knit his brows and longed to speak , fearing that some inflammable young soul would be led astray by the rockets , to find when the display was over that they had only an empty stick or a scorched hand . He bore it as long as he could , but when he was appealed to for an opinion , he blazed up with honest indignation and defended religion with all the eloquence of truth -- an eloquence which made his broken English musical and his plain face beautiful . He had a hard fight , for the wise men argued well , but he did n't know when he was beaten and stood to his colors like a man . Somehow , as he talked , the world got right again to Jo . The old beliefs , that had lasted so long , seemed better than the new . God was not a blind force , and immortality was not a pretty fable , but a blessed fact . She felt as if she had solid ground under her feet again , and when Mr. Bhaer paused , outtalked but not one whit convinced , Jo wanted to clap her hands and thank him . She did neither , but she remembered the scene , and gave the Professor her heartiest respect , for she knew it cost him an effort to speak out then and there , because his conscience would not let him be silent . She began to see that character is a better possession than money , rank , intellect , or beauty , and to feel that if greatness is what a wise man has defined it to be , ` truth , reverence , and good will ' , then her friend Friedrich Bhaer was not only good , but great . This belief strengthened daily . She valued his esteem , she coveted his respect , she wanted to be worthy of his friendship , and just when the wish was sincerest , she came near to losing everything . It all grew out of a cocked hat , for one evening the Professor came in to give Jo her lesson with a paper soldier cap on his head , which Tina had put there and he had forgotten to take off . `` It 's evident he does n't look in his glass before coming down , '' thought Jo , with a smile , as he said `` Goot efening , '' and sat soberly down , quite unconscious of the ludicrous contrast between his subject and his headgear , for he was going to read her the Death of Wallenstein . She said nothing at first , for she liked to hear him laugh out his big , hearty laugh when anything funny happened , so she left him to discover it for himself , and presently forgot all about it , for to hear a German read Schiller is rather an absorbing occupation . After the reading came the lesson , which was a lively one , for Jo was in a gay mood that night , and the cocked hat kept her eyes dancing with merriment . The Professor did n't know what to make of her , and stopped at last to ask with an air of mild surprise that was irresistible ... `` Mees Marsch , for what do you laugh in your master 's face ? Haf you no respect for me , that you go on so bad ? '' `` How can I be respectful , Sir , when you forget to take your hat off ? '' said Jo .
Lifting his hand to his head , the absent-minded XXXXX gravely felt and removed the little cocked hat , looked at it a minute , and then threw back his head and laughed like a merry bass viol .
Haf Jo Marsch Professor Schiller Tina left night pyrotechnics right