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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #69421 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69421)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The humour of Germany, by Hans
-Müller-Casenov
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: The humour of Germany
-
-Authors: Hans Müller-Casenov
-         Bertha Antoinetta Johanna Müller
-
-Editor: W. H. (William Henry) Dircks
-
-Illustrator: C. E. (Charles Edmund) Brock
-
-Release Date: November 25, 2022 [eBook #69421]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: MFR, Eleni Christofaki and the Online Distributed
-             Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-             produced from images generously made available by The
-             Internet Archive)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY ***
-
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber’s note
-
-Variable spelling and hyphenation have been retained. Minor punctuation
-inconsistencies have been silently repaired. A list of the changes made
-can be found at the end of the book. Formatting and special characters
-are indicated as follows:
-
-_italic_
-
-
-
-
-  _INTERNATIONAL HUMOUR._
-
-  EDITED BY W. H. DIRCKS.
-
-  THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “HE WAS TOO FOND OF DELIVERING LONG SPEECHES AT THE
-ALEHOUSE.” [_See page 410._]
-
-
-
-
-THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY
-
-
-SELECTED AND TRANSLATED, WITH INTRODUCTION AND BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX, BY
-HANS MÜLLER-CASENOV: WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY C. E. BROCK.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-LONDON 1892 WALTER SCOTT LTD.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS.
-
-
-                                                                    PAGE
-
-  INTRODUCTION                                                        xi
-  MASTER FOX, THE CONFESSOR--_Hugo von Trimberg_ (1260-1309)           1
-  ST. PETER’S LESSON--_Hans Sachs_ (1494-1576)                         4
-  A RAID ON THE PARSON’S KITCHEN--_Christoffel von Grimmelshausen_
-  (1620-1676)                                                          6
-  THE REVOLT IN THE THEATRE--_Ludwig Tieck_ (1773-1853)               12
-  THE UNACCOUNTABLE STRANGER--_Ludwig Tieck_                          24
-  VAN DER KABEL’S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT--_Jean Paul Friedrich Richter_
-  (1763-1825)                                                         28
-  DIVISION OF LABOUR IN MATTERS SENTIMENTAL--_Jean Paul Friedrich
-  Richter_                                                            35
-  A TENDER-HEARTED CRITIC--_Jean Paul Friedrich Richter_              37
-  THE ACCIDENT OF THE DISTINGUISHED STRANGER--_August von Kotzebue_
-  (1761-1819)                                                         38
-  HOW THE VICAR CAME AROUND--_Heinrich Zschokke_ (1771-1848)          49
-  THE MAN WHO SOLD HIS SHADOW--_A. von Chamisso_ (1781-1838)          62
-  THE GHOST OF DR. ASCHER--_Heinrich Heine_ (1799-1856)               66
-  TOURISTS AT THE BROCKEN--_Heinrich Heine_                           70
-  MY APPRECIATIVE FRIEND--_Heinrich Heine_                            72
-  “MADAM, DO YOU KNOW THE OLD PLAY?”--_Heinrich Heine_                73
-  VERSES FROM HEINE                                                  100
-  ABOUT MONEY--_M. G. Saphir_ (1795-1858)                            105
-  A NIGHT IN THE BREMER RATHSKELLER--_Wilhelm Hauff_ (1802-1827)     107
-  THE DUEL WITH THE DEVIL--_Wilhelm Hauff_                           125
-  EDITORIAL CO-OPERATION--_Wilhelm Hauff_                            130
-  MOZART’S JOURNEY TO PRAGUE--_Edward Mörike_ (1804-1875)            133
-  A RABID PHILOSOPHER (AUCH EINER)--_Friedrich Theodor v. Vischer_
-  (1807-1889)                                                        146
-  HIS SERENITY WILL BUILD A PALACE--_Fritz Reuter_ (1810-1874)       159
-  HIS SERENITY AND THE THUNDER-STORM--_Fritz Reuter_                 167
-  THE LIEUTENANT’S DINNER--_Fritz Reuter_                            177
-  THE HIGHER ALTRUISM--_Fritz Reuter_                                181
-  MY PICTURES--_Fritz Reuter_                                        182
-  LISZT EXPECTED AT AN EVENING PARTY--_E. Kossak_ (1814-1880)        188
-  A PRINCE IN DISGUISE--_Gottfried Keller_ (1815-1887)               196
-  A DISREPUTABLE SAINT--_Gottfried Keller_                           203
-  MILITARY INSPECTION--_F. W. Hackländer_ (1816-1877)                221
-  THE KING OF MACCAROONIA--_Professor Volkmann_ (1830-1891)          225
-  THE SAD TALE OF SEVEN KISSES--_Professor Volkman_                  232
-  A COUNTRY COMEDY--_Heinrich Schaumberger_ (1843-1874)              235
-  HOW BLINDSCHLEICHER WENT COURTING--_P. K. Rosegger_                249
-  “WHOM FIRST WE LOVE”--_H. von Kahlenberg_                          255
-  WOOING THE GALLOWS--_W. H. Riehl_                                  261
-  ELECTIVE AFFINITIES--_Franz von Schönthan_                         274
-  HOT PUNCH--_Julius Stinde_                                         281
-  WOMAN--_Bogumil Golz_ (1801-1870)                                  284
-  A CHRISTMAS TALE--_Eduard Pötzl_                                   288
-  THE CASE OF MINCKWITZ--_Paul Lindau_                               293
-  STUDENTS’ SONGS--
-    OLD ASSYRIAN-JONAH--_Joseph Victor Scheffel_                     304
-    HEINZ VON STEIN                                                  305
-    BRIGAND SONG                                                     306
-    A FARTHING AND A SIXPENCE--_Count Albert von Schlippenbach_      307
-    THE TEUTOBURGER BATTLE--_J. V. Scheffel_                         308
-    THE LAST PAIR OF BREECHES--_J. V. Scheffel_                      311
-    ENDERLE VON KETSCH--_J. V. Scheffel_                             313
-    GOD AND THE LOVER--_Old German_                                  316
-  UNINTENTIONAL WITTICISMS OF THE ABSENT-MINDED GERMAN PROFESSOR     317
-  THE INCARCERATION OF THE HERR PROFESSOR--_Ernst Eckstein_          320
-  OUR WAR-CORRESPONDENT--_Julius Stettenheim_                        335
-  SCHNORPS’ SWALLOW-TAIL--_Fritz Brentano_                           339
-  THE MAN OF ORDER--_Johannes Scherr_                                352
-  THE LUXURY OF GOING ABOUT INCOGNITO--_Hans Arnold_                 359
-  THE INNER LIFE OF THE SECOND-CLASS CAB-DRIVER--_Ernst von Wildenbruch_
-                                                                     382
-  BON-MOTS                                                           404
-  THE EARLY DAYS OF A GENIUS--_Wilhelm Raabe_                        408
-  NEWSPAPER HUMOUR                                                   423
-  BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX OF WRITERS                                      431
-
-
-
-
-
-INTRODUCTION.
-
-
-IN endeavouring to bring together examples of so significant and at the
-same time elusive a phase of national character--literary as well as
-psychological--as a nation’s humour, it were of course vain to seek to
-make each selection typical in itself--typical, that is, in the sense
-of referring to the broad basis of a nation’s individuality in respect
-of its humour as distinguished from other nations.
-
-A general idea can only be obtained by scanning a broad field; here,
-as elsewhere, details have little meaning unless considered in their
-relation to the broader outlook. A constant interplay of varied
-influences has to be taken into account. The purely national aspect
-is obtruded upon by the individuality of each author, which nowhere
-expresses with such effect as in the literature of humour. The _time_
-of writing, considered historically, with its political tendencies, has
-also to be considered; its church dependence perhaps, and the peculiar
-trend of its social interests. It is intruded upon also by the time
-considered in its relation to literature as a whole, to the tendencies
-of form and style predominant at given periods.
-
-Furthermore, there are strictly _local_ peculiarities, subdividing
-Germany itself. It is more especially these that the student of
-literature, unless he be also a student of ethnological influences,
-is likely to wrongly estimate, while it is of the utmost importance
-that they be borne in mind to arrive at a just view of qualities that
-oversway minor differences, which are often the first to catch the eye.
-The more the Comic Muse is bound within the narrow limits of place,
-time, and personality, the more is she in her element. She of all muses
-is a painter of detail, versed in the art of reproducing punctiliously
-those petty traits which disengage her subject from all broader
-problems, and make it effective in proportion to its _unimportance_ to
-the world’s general affairs.
-
-Writers upon the theory of humour are apt to deplore the absence of
-just such local land-marks in Germany as are strongly characteristic
-and still recognisable to the foreigner. It would appear to me that
-they have done so with some injustice. The _Volkscharacter_ of southern
-and northern Germany, of the lowlands, and the Franco-Bavarian and
-Suabian districts, even of the various centres of civilisation, the
-large towns, is abundant in those differentiating qualities which go
-to make up originality of manner. The modes of thought and feeling
-characterising the population of different districts bear a stamp so
-distinct that one is inclined to consider them more strongly marked by
-provincial locality than by nationality.
-
-In these days dialect proper, having gained the prestige of comparative
-rarity, like a peasant’s national costume, or a bit of _bric-à-brac_,
-has been favoured by the humorist, although its reproduction in our
-literature has well-nigh insurmountable difficulties to cope with. The
-Low German, one of the most interesting of German dialects, because,
-historically, the most intact, and the most incapable of amalgamation
-with the language that has superseded it, had been left to grow rusty
-so far as literature was concerned, until Fritz Reuter rescued it
-from threatening oblivion, and made it the vehicle of a naïve and
-spontaneous _genre_ of humour, to which it lent itself with singular
-charm and appropriateness.
-
-The cause of the former neglect of Low German as a means of literary
-expression was very obvious, and there was no gainsaying the justice of
-it--viz., that it is used to-day only by the lower classes of Northern
-Germany, and that among readers there is but a very limited number to
-whom it is more comprehensible than a foreign language would be. It is
-this fact also which explains why Fritz Reuter, the most intimate and
-sympathetic of German humorists, although extensively read, has never
-attained the widest popularity.
-
-Fundamentally, the German character appears to be averse to humour. Its
-mirth does not come to it spontaneously, a gift of the gods, arising
-out of the mere exuberance of being. This nation shares the temperament
-of all northern races, it moves more to the minor strains of feeling,
-to the _Adagio_ which Richard Wagner found so aptly expressive of its
-character. It is quick to respond to things mystic, and yearns over the
-vague grace of twilight moods. It worships at the shrine of the hapless
-Prince of Denmark.--I say fundamentally, for, looking at the life of
-the nation as it appears to-day, in those pleasures of the lower and
-middle classes which have their scene of action in the out-of-door
-world, there would appear to be in plenty a spirit of merry-making and
-pleasure-seeking inherent in the German character. The mere primitive
-love of a good time, however, is inseparably connected with those
-classes representing, in a manner, a child-like stage of intellectual
-development the world over, and is not characteristic in any special
-sense of the German people.
-
-It is safe to admit that a certain lightness of disposition, which
-seems indispensable to the humorous attitude, is absent among those
-race-qualities which go to make up the German nature pure and simple.
-If the nation has developed within itself those germs which have
-blossomed into a sense of the humorous; if it has passed through all
-those early stages of perception and expression which have culminated
-in a humorous literature of sturdy strength; if it has found at length
-a humorous literature (with Gottfried Keller for its prophet, and
-F. T. Vischer for its critic and exponent), it is due probably to a
-complexity of influences somewhat difficult to determine.
-
-However free in its purely literary aspect humour may be from all
-ulterior purpose and aim, the tale of its growth with us is largely
-interwoven with impulses received from outside sources and sources
-didactic and philosophical. Outwitting the devil, the theme that recurs
-again and again as the oldest form of farcical expression in mediæval
-Germany, meant dealing with the stresses of adverse circumstance. This
-was the first step taken on the road to humour in Germany. The Powers
-of Evil had all the brute force upon their side; there was no coping
-with them, except by sharpening one’s wits and irritating them by
-practical jokes until they might yield. The laugh that followed had
-all the hard ring of the victor’s triumphant scorn. Early satirical
-writings were imbued with a like spirit. There was the lash to be swung
-at some enemy, and derision at his downfall was tempered by no kindlier
-emotion. There was a grim attitude of self-defence throughout it all.
-Indeed, it is only in going back painfully step by step that one is
-enabled to discern in this early literature the germs of humour at all.
-
-The farces and puppet-shows at country fairs and the burlesques at the
-early theatre began to make room for the idea of retaliation. It became
-a question of clown against clown. The supremacy was never yielded
-long to one side. Laying aside all personal interest in the matter for
-the time being, there was an impartial shout of laughter at him who
-got the most kicks and cuffs. The popular mind began to rise above the
-situation, to put itself in the position of an unbiassed spectator, and
-to take delight in merely putting down whatever asserted itself. As an
-instance of this may be counted the practice of granting the devil, or
-a person disguised as such, a hearing in church on certain days of the
-year instead of the parish priest.
-
-Then the sense of discrepancy between things great and small, things
-important and unimportant, the world of the senses and the world of
-the spirit, began to enter the popular perception, the impossibility
-of reconciliation, and, as a consequence, the pleasure of turning this
-world topsy-turvy, and so demonstrating the supremacy of the individual.
-
-Side by side with this development, or partly perhaps based upon it,
-went the philosophic development. Thinkers, dreamers, and philosophers
-went on constructing a universe according to the laws of their
-individual minds, a universe containing nothing at all to be laughed
-at, and for many decades scholars were deeply buried in obstruse
-problems and finely-spun theories and systems, the lighter muse of
-poetry and art for the most part following but humbly and timorously
-from afar. But when philosophy and theology had spoken at large, and
-the mystery and fatal contradiction at the heart of things had not been
-unravelled, the pale brooding of some turned to melancholy, with others
-it turned to boisterous living and philosophic indifferentism.
-
-Then it was that irony, directed upon the inordinate intellectual
-ambitions of man, removed him half imperceptibly into the sphere of
-the ludicrous. Self-irony may be the result of misanthropy, but it is
-certainly the beginning of a cure. One finds oneself to be made up of
-two absurdly contradicting hemispheres, as well as the rest of the
-world; the sense of the universal incongruity seems to make the case
-less tragic. To pass through this stage into the clearer atmosphere
-of conscious reconciliation with the actuality of things, of placid
-acceptance of the ups and downs, the shortcomings inherent in things,
-and in human nature withal,--into the atmosphere of pure humour,
-unperturbed by the possibility of personal disappointment, is a long
-step, easy to some, to others impossible. And it would seem that German
-Humour--taking the term in its widest sense as signifying subjective
-apprehension on the one hand and artistic expression on the other--is
-less the result of a temperamental predisposition than the culmination
-of a development. With a turn for flaccid sentimentalism, and by
-nature inclined to take themselves very seriously, it was a reaction,
-a bankruptcy in metaphysical methods that inaugurated and established
-something of a humorous _Weltanschauung_. The often oppressively heavy
-_Zeitgeist_ has borne along its own corrective in the literature of
-two centuries as on an ever-strengthening under-current. There have
-been silent forces at play working imperceptibly through the innate
-robustness of the national character. It was this undeniable robustness
-which could not for long brook the extravagancies of weak emotionalism.
-Revolt was opened upon it on the one hand by the spirit of exact
-science, on the other by the need of æsthetic equilibrium. These two
-tendencies, the æsthetic and the scientific, are still contending for
-the field with much ado and bustle in some quarters.
-
-Though a nation counting Heine and Lichtenberg among its own, it is not
-in the _spielende Urtheil_, as Jean Paul has called inspired sallies
-of wit, that German humour specially distinguishes itself; now and
-again there it has its moods of riotous absurdity; but where it is
-most characteristic is in the telling of the humorous tale, lovingly
-handled in its details, the pathetic verging very near upon the comic,
-finally succumbing in a ripple of good-natured laughter at somebody
-or other who is really not so very bad, but only very human, and for
-whose misfortunes--poor devil!--we may have a kindly feeling. Then
-we have a mastership in spectral stories, uncanny and imaginative,
-leaving the reader’s mind in a delightful condition of doubt as to
-their actual meaning and significance; and we have also the expression
-of the spirit of poetic adventure,--a determination to have fun at all
-hazards, either _with_ the public or else _at_ the public, if perchance
-it should prove too dull to be taken into partnership. There is much of
-this in Chamisso’s _Peter Schlemihl_, which, in the face of many dizzy
-structures of elucidation that have been based upon it, remains so
-truly humorous and so profoundly touching.
-
-It is by no means always the _funny_ element that predominates in
-German writings of a humorous tendency. Their office seems to be more
-to suggest the effect which these lighter moods of fancy have upon
-the serious affairs of life, and in studying the humour of Germany
-in a spirit of literary criticism it is indispensable to take these
-two aspects in their action and reaction upon each other. There is a
-psychical development of the individual which runs parallel to that of
-the nation. In confirmation of the theory of humorous development here
-faintly outlined, it may be said that in Germany, humorous perception
-is for the most part not the possession of youth. It is not until the
-need of a corrective to a habit of speculative brooding has been felt
-that imperceptibly and unconsciously healthful minds rise to those
-dispassionate heights whence the Occidental Brahmin gazes upon a motley
-world.
-
-  HANS MÜLLER-CASENOV.
-
-
-[_For Acknowledgments to Authors and Publishers, see page 430._]
-
-
-
-
-THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY.
-
-
-_MASTER FOX, THE CONFESSOR._
-
-
-    THEY overtook the Ass, and so
-    All three to Rome together go.
-    And when they saw the city near,
-    The Wolf said to his cousin dear:
-    “Reynard, my plan I’ll name to you:--
-    The Pope, we know, has much to do;
-    I doubt if he can spend his time
-    To hear our catalogues of crime.
-    ’Twill spare some trouble for the Pope
-    (And also for ourselves, I hope,
-    As we may ’scape with penance less),
-    If to each other we confess.
-    Let each describe his greatest sin,
-    So, without preface, I’ll begin.
-    To notice trifles I disdain;
-    But one fact gives my conscience pain.
-    ’Tis this--there dwelt beside the Rhine
-    A man who lived by feeding swine.
-    He had a sow who rambled wide
-    While all her pigs with hunger cried.
-    I punished her in such a way
-    That never more she went astray.
-    Her little ones, deserted now,
-    Oft moved my pity, I’ll avow;
-    I ended all their woes one night--
-    Now let my punishment be light!”
-    “Well,” said the Fox, “your sin was small,
-    And hardly can for penance call;
-    For such a venial transgression
-    You’ve made amends by this confession.
-    And now I’ll do as you have done--
-    Of all my sins I’ll name but one:
-    A man such noisy fowls would keep,
-    That no one near his house could sleep;
-    The crowings of his chanticleer
-    Disturbed the country far and near.
-    Distracted by the noise, one night
-    I went and stopped his crowing quite.
-    But this feat ended not the matter--
-    The hens began to crow and chatter;
-    And so (the deed I slightly rue)
-    I killed them and their chickens too.”
-    “Well,” said the Wolf, “to hush that din
-    Was surely no alarming sin;
-    Abstain from poultry for three days,
-    And, if you like, amend your ways.
-    But now the Ass must be confessed.
-    Donkey! how far have you transgressed?”
-    “Ah!” said the Ass, with dismal bray,
-    “You know I have not much to say;
-    For I have toiled from day to day,
-    And done for master service good,
-    In carrying water, corn, and wood.
-    But once, in winter time, ’tis true,
-    I did what I perhaps must rue:
-    A countryman, to keep him warm
-    (We had just then a snowy storm),
-    Had put some straw into his shoes;
-    To bite it I could not refuse;
-    And so (for hunger was my law)
-    I took, or stole, a single straw.”
-
-    “There! say no more!” the Fox exclaimed;
-    “For want of straw that man was lamed;
-    His feet were bitten by the frost;
-    ’Tis probable his life was lost.
-    ’Twas theft and murder.--No reply!
-    Your penance is, that you must die.”
-
-  _Hugo von Trimberg_ (1260-1309).
-
-[Illustration: “BUT NOW THE ASS MUST BE CONFESSED.”]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “THE GOAT RUNS ON AND NEVER TIRES.”]
-
-_ST. PETER’S LESSON._
-
-
-    THE young goat had a playful mind,
-    And never liked to be confined;
-    The apostle, at a killing pace,
-    Followed the goat, in a desperate chase;
-    Over the hills and among the briers
-    The goat runs on and never tires,
-    While Peter, behind, on the grassy plain,
-    Runs on, panting and sighing, in vain.
-    All day, beneath a scorching sun,
-    The good apostle had to run
-    Till evening came; the goat was caught,
-    And safely to the Master brought.
-    Then, with a smile, to Peter said
-    The Lord: “Well, friend, how have you sped;
-    If such a task your powers has tried,
-    How could you keep the world, so wide?”
-    Then Peter, with his toil distressed,
-    His folly, with a sigh, confessed.
-    “No, Master! ’tis for me no play
-    To rule one goat for one short day;
-    It must be infinitely worse
-    To regulate the universe.”
-
-  _Hans Sachs_ (1494-1576).
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-A RAID ON THE PARSON’S KITCHEN.
-
-
-THE commandant at Soest looked at me with approval, and said, “Tut,
-little huntsman, you shall be my servant, and wait upon my horses.”
-
-“Sir,” I replied, “I should prefer a master in whose service the horses
-wait upon me. As it is not likely I shall find such a one, I am going
-to be a soldier.”
-
-“Hoity-toity,” he said, “you have no more hair on your lip than a
-tree-frog. You are too young.”
-
-“Oh, no,” I replied, “I will venture to brave any man of eighty. The
-beard does not make a man, else the he-goats would be in high esteem.”
-
-He said, “If you can show courage as well as you can wag your tongue,
-so be it.”
-
-I answered, “The first opportunity shall furnish the proof.”
-
-And so the commandant made over to me my dragoon’s old trousers, in
-which my master had sewed a goodly number of ducats. Out of their
-vitals I provided myself with a good horse and the best fire-arms
-I could get; I thereupon polished up my belongings to their utmost
-possibility of brightness. I got me a new suit of green, for I
-delighted in the name of “huntsman,” and gave my old garments to my
-boy, as they had grown too short and too tight for me. I sat on my
-horse like a young nobleman, and did not think small beer of myself.
-I took special delight in decorating my hat with a smart bunch of
-feathers like an officer. There were enough to envy me, and soon words
-and blows were the order of the day. But no sooner had I given proof
-to two of my enemies as to the nature of the thrusts I was skilled in,
-than I was left in peace, and my friendship was much sought for. In our
-raids upon the enemy I threw myself forward like bubbles in a boiling
-kettle, to be always the first in the fight. Whenever it was my good
-fortune to lay hands upon a desirable bit of pillage I shared it freely
-with the officers. The consequence was that I was allowed to plunder
-even in forbidden places, and could be secure of protection under all
-circumstances. So I was soon looked up to by friend and foe, and my
-purse grew as great as my name; even the peasants I managed to keep
-upon my side by fear and love, for I took vengeance upon those that
-tried to hinder me, and gave rich rewards to all who were helpful. I
-did not confine myself to large schemes, and never despised small ones
-if there was praise and admiration to be won thereby.
-
-At one time we had been vainly hoping for some waggons with provisions
-to come into our way at the Castle of Recklinkhausen, and the pangs
-of hunger were upon us. And when I and my comrade, a student just run
-away from school, were leaning out of one of the windows, and hungrily
-gazing out into the country, my companion sighed after the barley-soup
-of his dear mother, and said: “Ah, brother, isn’t it a shame to think
-that after having studied all the arts, I should not be able to supply
-food for myself? Brother, I know for certain, if I were only allowed to
-visit the parson in yonder village--you can see the church steeple just
-beyond the poplars--I should find a most excellent feast.”
-
-After a short parley the captain gave us permission; I exchanged my
-clothes with those of another, and the student and I betook ourselves
-to the village on a very roundabout way. The reverend gentleman
-received us civilly. When my companion had greeted him in Latin,
-accompanying his words with a profound bow, and briskly conjuring up a
-fine array of lies how the soldiers had robbed him, a poor student, of
-all his provisions, the parson gave him bread and butter and a drink
-of beer. I passed myself off as a painter’s apprentice, and acting as
-if my companion and I had never met before, I told them both I should
-go down the village street to the inn for refreshment, and would then
-call for him, as we seemed to be going the same way. So I went away in
-search of anything that might be worth the trouble of coming for the
-following night, and I was so fortunate as to meet a peasant who was
-plastering up an earthen oven in which large loaves of brown bread were
-to lie and bake for twenty-four hours. I thought, “Go ahead; plaster
-away! I’ll find you a customer for these delicious viands.” I made but
-a short stay at the inn, knowing this cheaper way of getting bread,
-and returned to my companion, who had eaten his fill, and had told the
-parson that I was on my way to Holland to perfect myself in my art. The
-parson asked me to go and see the church with him, as he would like to
-show me some paintings that were in need of restoration. As it would
-not do to spoil the game, I consented. He conducted us through the
-kitchen, and when he opened the night-lock on the strong oaken door
-which led to the churchyard, I saw a wonderful sight. From the black
-heavens of this kitchen violins, flutes, and cymbals were pendent--in
-reality they were hams, sausages, and slices of bacon. I looked at them
-with happy forebodings, and they seemed to smile irritatingly upon me.
-I wished them in the castle to my comrades, but in vain; they were
-obstinate, and remained hanging where they were. I mused on ways and
-means of bringing them under my plan regarding the peasant’s loaves of
-bread, but there were serious difficulties in the way, as the yard of
-the parsonage was surrounded by a stone wall, and all the windows were
-well protected with iron bars. Moreover, there were two large dogs in
-the yard that certainly would object to having that stolen the remnants
-of which was, in the course of time, to be the reward due to their
-watchfulness.
-
-Once in church, it appeared that the parson generously intended to
-entrust me with the restoration of his old pictures. As I was exerting
-myself to find some plausible subterfuge, the sexton turned to me and
-said: “Fellow, you look more like a disreputable soldier-lad than like
-a painter.” I was no longer accustomed to such speeches, and yet there
-was nothing for it but to swallow the taunt. I shook my head softly and
-replied, “Oh, you knave! give me a brush and colours, and I will paint
-a fool in a twinkling who shall resemble you throughout.”
-
-The parson made a joke of the matter, and reminded both of us that it
-is not meet to tell each other unsavoury truths in so holy a spot. Then
-he gave us another drink, and we departed. But I left my heart with the
-sausages.
-
-Returning to our people, I picked out six reliable fellows to help me
-carry home the bread. About midnight we entered the village and quietly
-took the bread out of the oven, and as we were about to pass the
-parsonage I could not bring myself to go on without the bacon. I stood
-still and looked up and down to discover some way into the parson’s
-kitchen, but there was no opening except the chimney. We stored our
-guns and our treasured booty of bread in the charnel-house of the
-churchyard, managed to get a ladder and rope out of the barn, and I and
-my crony Springinsfeld climbed up on the tiled roof. I twisted my long
-hair into a top-knot, and let myself down by the rope to the objects
-of my desire. Once there, I did not delay, and tied ham after ham, and
-sausage after sausage to the rope. Springinsfeld fished everything out
-skilfully from his post on the roof and handed it down to the others.
-But, alack-a-day! as I was just going to give myself a holiday and come
-out, the pole that I was standing on gave way, and poor Simplicisimus
-was suddenly precipitated, and found himself in as bad a fix as need
-be--in fact, it was like a regular man-trap. Springinsfeld tried to
-help me by letting down the rope, but that also broke. I said to
-myself, “Now, huntsman, you are in for a chase in which there will be
-small mercy for your hide.”
-
-Sure enough, my fall had waked up the parson, and he called his
-cook and bade her strike a light. She appeared in night-attire, her
-petticoat around her shoulders, and stood close beside me. She seized
-a coal from the hearth, held her candle up close to it, and began to
-blow. At the same time I blew much stronger than she, which frightened
-the poor body so that she dropped both candle and coal, and retreated
-near her master. Now the parson himself struck a light, while the woman
-was telling him there was a horrible two-headed ghost crouching in the
-kitchen; she had probably mistaken my top-knot for a second head. When
-I heard this I quickly rubbed my face and hands with ashes and soot,
-until I doubtless bore small resemblance to the angel I had figured for
-at the nunnery. And if the sexton could have seen me thus occupied,
-he would certainly have given me credit for being a rapid painter.
-Thereupon I began to make as much noise as I possibly could, throwing
-pans and kettles about. I hung the ring of the large kettle about my
-neck, and took the poker in my hand, to have a weapon in case of need.
-All this did not put out the pious parson, who approached as if he were
-heading a procession, his cook behind him, carrying two wax tapers and
-a stoup. He was attired in his surplice, and had a book in one hand and
-his holy-water sprinkle in the other. He read some ritual of exorcism
-aloud before me, and then asked me who I was, and what was my business
-here. Seeing that he was labouring under the impression that I was the
-Evil One, I thought it but fair that I should act in accordance with
-my new _rôle_, and I answered him as I had once answered the robbers
-in the woods, “I am the devil, and I have come to turn your neck, and
-your servant’s as well.” He thereupon tried his most potent charm, “All
-good spirits praise the Lord! I conjure thee, return from whither thou
-comest!” I replied that this was impossible, happy though I should be
-to comply with his request.
-
-Meanwhile my boon-companion Springinsfeld was indulging in spectral
-revelries upon the roof. When he heard what was going on in the kitchen
-below, and how I was passing myself off for the devil, he began to hoot
-like an owl, then barking like a dog, neighing like a horse, bleating
-like a sheep, crying like a donkey, cackling down the chimney like a
-hen about to lay an egg, and then again giving forth unearthly music
-like a hundred serenading cats; for this fellow was clever in imitating
-the voices of animals, and could howl as naturally as if a pack of
-wolves were standing about the house.
-
-During the consternation of the parson and his charming feminine
-choir-boy I had time to look about me, and, to my joy, I made the
-discovery that the night-lock had not been put on the back door. Quick
-as a flash I pushed back the bolt, slipped out into the churchyard,
-where my companions were standing with triggers drawn, and left the
-parson to conjure devils as long as he pleased. And when Springinsfeld
-came down from the roof, bringing my hat along, and we had packed
-our spoils upon our shoulders, we returned to our party, not having
-anything more to do in the village, though I admit that we might have
-returned the borrowed ladder and rope.
-
-  _Christoffel von Grimmelshausen_ (1620-1676).
-
-
-
-
-_THE REVOLT IN THE THEATRE._
-
-(FROM ACT I. OF “A TOPSY-TURVY WORLD.”)
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.[1] POET.
-
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-No, Sir Poet, say what you please, talk as you wish, make as many
-objections as you can possibly make, it shall in no wise alter my
-purpose, to listen to nothing, to consider nothing, to insist upon
-having my own way,--so there!
-
-POET.
-
-Dear Scaramuccio!
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-I listen to nothing. Look, Sir Poet, how I am stopping up my ears.
-
-POET.
-
-But the piece----
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Nonsense! the piece! I am a piece too, and I have a perfect right to
-say my say. Or do you suppose I have no will of my own? Do you poets
-labour under the delusion that a gentleman actor is called upon to do
-just as you say? My dear sir, know you not that the times are changing?
-
-POET.
-
-But the spectators----
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-And because there are spectators in the world, would you make me
-unhappy? Nice principles those!
-
-POET.
-
-Friend, you must listen to me.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Very well then, if I must. Here I sit; now talk like a sensible man, if
-it is in your nature so to do. (_Sits down on the ground._)
-
-POET.
-
-Most esteemed Sir Scaramuccio! Your Grace has been engaged at this
-theatre for a special _rôle_--in a word, to express myself briefly, you
-are the _Scaramuccio_. It is not to be denied that you have reached
-a degree of excellence in this your speciality, and there is no man
-in the world more willing than myself to do justice to your talents;
-but, my dear sir, for all that you are not possessed of the qualities
-fitting you for a tragedian; for all that you will never be able to
-play a lofty character.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-The impudence of it! By my soul, I’ll play you a loftier character than
-you will be able to write. I take your remark as a personal insult,
-and I challenge the whole world to out-do me in the high and lofty.
-
-SCAEVOLA (_one of the spectators_).
-
-Oh, Sir Scaramuccio, we’ll all take up your challenge.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-How so? What now? I confess I am struck dumb by this insolence.
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-My dear sir, there is no cause for that. I am here for my money, Sir
-Scaramuccio, and I can think what I please.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-You are free to think as you see best, but you are not allowed to speak
-here.
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-So long as you may speak, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Well, then, what have you done that was so noble?
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-The day before yesterday I helped my spendthrift of a nephew out of his
-debts.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-And yesterday I saved the prompter from talking himself hoarse by
-leaving out a whole scene.
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-I was in a merry humour at table one day last week, and gave a whole
-shilling in charity.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-The day before yesterday I quarrelled with my tailor, who came to dun
-me, and I had the last word.
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-A week ago I helped get a tipsy man home.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Sir, I was this tipsy man; but I had been drinking my sovereign’s
-health.
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-I confess myself vanquished.
-
-(_Enter Pierrot in a state of excitement._)
-
-POET.
-
-What’s the matter, Pierrot?
-
-PIERROT.
-
-What’s the matter? I will not play to-day. On no account will I play.
-
-POET.
-
-Why not?
-
-PIERROT.
-
-Why not? Because it’s high time for me to become a spectator. I’ve been
-a _mime_ long enough.
-
-(_Enter Wagemann, the manager._)
-
-POET.
-
-You are just in time, Herr Wagemann. There is confusion abroad.
-
-WAGEMANN.
-
-How so?
-
-POET.
-
-Pierrot will not play to-day. He wants to be a spectator, and
-Scaramuccio insists upon taking the _rôle_ of Apollo in my drama.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-And am I not right, Herr Wagemann? I have played the fool long enough,
-and I should like to try my hand at the wise.
-
-WAGEMANN.
-
-You are too severe, Sir Poet. You must give the poor fellows a little
-more liberty. Let them have it their own way.
-
-POET.
-
-But the requirements of the drama, of art----
-
-WAGEMANN.
-
-Oh, all that will come right enough. Look you, my way of thinking is
-this--the spectators have paid their money, and with that the most
-important thing is regulated.
-
-PIERROT.
-
-Adieu, Sir Poet. I go to join the illustrious assembly of spectators.
-I will venture the bold leap over the footlights, to see if I can
-be cured of being a fool, and graduate to a spectator. (_Sings._)
-Fare-thee-well, thou old love; a new life is dawning for me, and most
-sensible impulses are moving my heart. No footlight shall affright me,
-no prompter can hold me. Ah, I would taste the peaceful bliss of being
-an auditor. Receive me, wild waves; stage, fare-thee-well, my spirit
-yearns to be drawn beyond thy precincts. (_Jumps into the parterre._)
-Where am I? Oh heavens! do I still breathe? Ah! is it possible I stand
-here below? The rays of the footlights shine over yonder. Ye gods, ye
-behold me surrounded by people. Who gave me this life, this better life?
-
-THE AUDIENCE.
-
-Monsieur Pierrot is one of us. A hearty welcome to thee, Spectator
-Pierrot. We greet thee, thou great man!
-
-PIERROT.
-
-Can it be, ye noble ones, that you will count me as your brother? Ah,
-my gratitude will last as long as there is breath within this bosom.
-
-GRÜNHELM (_one of the spectators_).
-
-Glorious, glorious! By my soul he speaks well! But as for me, I should
-like to take a part on the stage for a change; it would do my heart
-good. To be sure I tremble and stammer, and my wit is not of the
-quickest, but I am never so happy as when I am making a little joke.
-(_He scrambles up on the stage._) And so, Sir Scaramuccio, leave your
-funny _rôle_ to me, and then, for all I care, you may play the Apollo.
-
-POET.
-
-And what then is to become of my excellent drama?
-
-AUDIENCE.
-
-Scaramuccio shall play the Apollo. It is a unanimous decision.
-
-POET.
-
-’Tis well. I wash my hands of it. The audience may bear the
-responsibility. I am deeply miserable. Ah, yes, it is the fate of Art
-to be misunderstood and travestied, and it is only then that it finds
-its public. In vengeance for the judgment passed upon Marsyas, Poetry
-herself is flayed alive to-day. My sorrow is greater than I can endure.
-Herr Grünhelm, so you undertake to do the joking?
-
-GRÜNHELM.
-
-I do, Sir Poet, and I will hold my own against any rival.
-
-POET.
-
-How will you do it?
-
-GRÜNHELM.
-
-Sir, I have been one of those whose chief business it is to be amused
-long enough to know what will please. The people down there want to
-be entertained. At bottom that is the only reason they stand there so
-quietly and patiently. The good-will of the public is the principal
-thing, I know that as well as you do. True art is to keep this
-good-will on the surface.
-
-POET.
-
-Yes, of course, but by what means do you propose----?
-
-GRÜNHELM.
-
-Let that be my care, Sir Poet. (_Sings_:)
-
-    “A fowler’s trade is mine, heigh-ho,” etc.
-
-AUDIENCE.
-
-Bravo! bravo!
-
-GRÜNHELM.
-
-Are you pretty well amused, gentlemen?
-
-AUDIENCE.
-
-Excellently, most excellently!
-
-GRÜNHELM.
-
-Do you feel a longing for anything reasonable?
-
-AUDIENCE.
-
-No, no; but by-and-by we should like to have our feelings worked upon.
-
-GRÜNHELM.
-
-Patience, you can’t have all good things in a lump. Do you miss the
-genuine Apollo?
-
-AUDIENCE.
-
-Not in the least.
-
-GRÜNHELM.
-
-Well, Sir Poet, do you still object to granting the excellent
-Scaramuccio’s request?
-
-POET.
-
-Not in the least. I withdraw all my objections.
-
-AUDIENCE.
-
-But we don’t want him to give us nothing but nonsense.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Mercy on us! We would not be guilty of such a sinful thing. What kind
-of an Apollo were I if I should admit of that? No, gentlemen, there
-shall be an abundance of serious things--things to think about, things
-to train one’s intellectual faculties.
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-Is it to be a tragedy?
-
-PIERROT.
-
-No, gentlemen, we actors have all sworn that we will not die, so it
-won’t be a tragedy, whatever the poet may have in his mind.
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-I am relieved to hear it, for I am possessed of a very soft heart.
-
-PIERROT.
-
-Hang it, sir, neither are we made of stone and iron. I have the honour
-of assuring you that my susceptibilities are uncommonly delicate. The
-devil take all inelegancies.
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-That is what I say. There is nothing above being a spectator. It is the
-highest thing one can be.
-
-PIERROT.
-
-Ay, that it is. Are we not more than all the emperors and princes that
-are but acted?
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Thunder and lightning! Where, in the hangman’s name, is my Parnassus?
-
-GRÜNHELM.
-
-I will go and get it. (_Exit._)
-
-WAGEMANN.
-
-Now all is in order. Adieu, Sir Scaramuccio.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Your humble servant. Beg you to express my respects to Madam, your
-wife. (_The manager exit. Three attendants enter, carrying the
-Parnassus._) Put it down here,--a trifle further to this side, so that
-I can hear the prompter. (_He climbs up and takes a seat._) A pleasant
-mount this. What revenues does it yield? Can any one tell me? Send for
-the treasurer.
-
-(_Enter the Treasurer._)
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-What does the mount bring me annually?
-
-TREASURER.
-
-Under your predecessor, the only profits derived were those from the
-Castalian Spring.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-What sort of a spring? Was it a mineral spring; a sulphur spring,
-perhaps? Was there much demand for the waters? What was the price per
-bottle?
-
-TREASURER.
-
-What little there was wanted was given away. Few people liked the
-water. Your predecessor, the other Apollo, was fond of it.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-I hope there are no mortgages on the mount?
-
-TREASURER.
-
-No, your majesty.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Is it insured?
-
-TREASURER.
-
-Oh, yes.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-There is some security in that. I shall have a brewery and a bakery
-put up at the foot. The common pastures must be otherwise disposed of;
-Pegasus and the other beasts that belong to me must henceforth be fed
-in the stable.
-
-TREASURER.
-
-It shall be as you say.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Have the spectators paid for the play?
-
-TREASURER.
-
-Yes, your excellency.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-I hereby decree that there shall be no complimentary tickets in future.
-
-TREASURER.
-
-These are innovations not at all in accordance with the institutions of
-Greece.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Hang Greece! Thank goodness we live in better times. This is an age
-of enlightenment, and I reign supreme. Send for the Muses. (_Exit the
-Treasurer._)
-
-(_Enter the nine Muses, bowing profoundly._)
-
-SCARAMUCCIO (_lightly nodding to them_).
-
-Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselles. Hope we shall get on
-finely together. Henceforth you shall be my tenants on the Parnassus.
-Should you ever desire to change your residence, quarterly notice is
-required. What is your name, fair child?
-
-MELPOMENE.
-
-I am Melpomene.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-You look so woe-begone.
-
-MELPOMENE.
-
-Oh, Herr Apollo! I am of a very good family. My father had a high
-position at court, and the thane gave me a matchless education. Ah,
-how happy I was in my parents’ house, and what a dutiful daughter did
-I strive to be! I also had a lover, but he jilted me, and my parents
-died of grief. Our family physician, a worthy man, took an interest in
-me; but he was too poor to marry me, so there was nothing for it but to
-join the Muses. Have I no right to be sad?
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Yes indeed, my child; but I will be as a father to you.
-
-SCAEVOLA (_to another spectator_).
-
-Now see, for heaven’s sake, how the tears are flowing from my eyes.
-
-THE OTHER.
-
-Why, neighbour, save them for the fifth act.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-And who are you, pretty maid?
-
-THALIA.
-
-Thank you kindly, sir, for asking; I was christened Thalia. I was a
-servant in the family of this excellent lady, and I could not bring
-myself to leave her in her distress, and followed her among the Muses.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-When the last act comes your faithfulness will surely be rewarded.
-Where is my groom?
-
-(_Enter the Groom._)
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Saddle my Pegasus. I wish to go riding.
-
-(_Exit the Groom, coming back immediately with a bridled donkey._)
-
-Help me. (_He gets in the saddle._)
-
-[Illustration: THE MOUNTING OF PEGASUS.]
-
-GROOM.
-
-By what rules of quantity does your Honour choose to take his pleasure
-to-day?
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Oh, fool! I will ride in plain, sensible prose. Do you suppose I wish
-to be jolted in Alcaic measures, or break my neck in Proceleusmatics?
-No, I am for sense and order.
-
-GROOM.
-
-Your predecessor was always flying in the air.
-
-SCARAMUCCIO.
-
-Don’t talk to me about the fellow. He must have been a very clown, a
-most eccentric ass. To fly into the air! No, the air has no pillars,
-I am all for the earth. Adieu, my friends! I am only going to ride
-a short essay on the value of family portraits. I shall be back
-presently. (_He rides slowly away._)
-
-(_The curtain drops._)
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-That was only the introduction.
-
-PIERROT.
-
-The first act is always of great importance for the lucidity of the
-whole.
-
-THE OTHER TO SCAEVOLA.
-
-There is much morality in the piece.
-
-SCAEVOLA.
-
-Indeed there is; I feel myself growing better already.
-
-PIERROT.
-
-Music!
-
-  _Ludwig Tieck_ (1773-1853).
-
-
-
-
-_THE UNACCOUNTABLE STRANGER._
-
-
-(FROM SCENE IV. OF “A TOPSY-TURVY WORLD.”)
-
-
-(_The room of an Inn._)
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-Few enough guests put up at my house nowadays. If this goes on I might
-as well take down my sign. Dear me, those were other times when there
-was scarce a piece performed but had a tavern and a host in it. I well
-remember in how many hundreds of pieces the foundations for the finest
-plots were laid in this very room. Now it was a prince in disguise,
-who spent his money here; now it was a prime minister, or a wealthy
-count at the very least, who lay in ambush here for some conspiracy.
-Yes, even in things that were translated from the English, I always
-earned an honest penny. Some drawbacks to be sure there were, when I
-was required to be a disguised member of a band of sharpers, and then
-be smartly rated by the moral characters; but there was always healthy
-activity in it. But now!--Now when a wealthy stranger returns from a
-journey, he goes to stay with his relatives by way of doing something
-novel and original, and does not drop his disguise until the fifth act;
-others appear only upon the street, as if there were no respectable
-house for them to stay at. All this keeps the audience in a marvellous
-state of curiosity, but it takes the bread out of our mouth.
-
-(_Enter Anne._)
-
-ANNE.
-
-You seem to be in low spirits, father.
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-Yes, child, I’m out of sorts about my calling.
-
-ANNE.
-
-Would you like to be something finer?
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-No, not exactly; but it vexes me more than I can tell you that there is
-no more demand for my calling.
-
-ANNE.
-
-Surely in time all that will change for the better.
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-No, dear daughter. The times do not tend that way. Oh, why was I not a
-Hofrath! You may look at any play-bill this day, it always says at the
-bottom: “The scene is at the house of the Hofrath.” If things go on
-like this I’ll study for a gaoler, for prisons, you know, still occur
-in patriotic and mediæval pieces. But my son must see to it that he
-gets to be a Hofrath.
-
-ANNE.
-
-Be comforted, dear father, and do not yield to your melancholy.
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-I’ve half a mind to turn poet myself, and invent a new art of poetry
-which shall supersede the Hofrath pieces, and in which the scene shall
-invariably play in a tavern.
-
-ANNE.
-
-Do so, dear father, and I will attend to the love-scenes.
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-Hist! There is a diligence pulling up at the door. Indeed it seems to
-be an express. Kind heavens, where can the unsophisticated person come
-from who would put up at this house?
-
-(_Enter a Stranger._)
-
-STRANGER.
-
-Good morrow, mine host.
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-Your servant, your servant, noble lord. Who in the world are you to
-travel _incognito_, and put up at my house? Surely you are of the old
-school, eh? A man of the good old times! Perhaps translated from the
-English!
-
-STRANGER.
-
-I am neither a noble lord nor do I travel _incognito_. Can I lodge here
-this day and night?
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-My whole house is at your disposal. But really, is there no family in
-the vicinity you wish to make happy? Or do you wish to marry suddenly,
-or find a sister?
-
-STRANGER.
-
-No, good friend.
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-So you are only journeying as a simple, ordinary traveller?
-
-STRANGER.
-
-Yes.
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-Then you will have but little applause.
-
-STRANGER.
-
-The fellow must be crazy.
-
-(_Enter a Postillion._)
-
-POSTILLION.
-
-Here is your trunk, sir.
-
-STRANGER.
-
-And here is your fee.
-
-POSTILLION.
-
-Oh, that is very little. I drove down the hill so smartly!
-
-STRANGER.
-
-There.
-
-POSTILLION.
-
-Many thanks. (_Exit._)
-
-STRANGER.
-
-Shall I succeed in finding her? Oh, how all my thoughts turn to my
-beloved native shore! How can I endure the sight, when once more I view
-it?--when the past, with all its joys and pains, passes before my inner
-vision? Ah, thou poor mortal! what callest thou the past? For thee
-there is no present. Between the times that are flown and the future
-thou clingest to a little moment, and joys flit past thee, and do not
-so much as touch thy heart.
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-If I may be permitted to ask, I take it your grace is from some old
-worm-eaten drama that some unknown author has modernised a bit?
-
-STRANGER.
-
-What say you?
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-I greatly doubt that you will have applause! I hope, at any rate, that
-you have money? Or is it a part of the plot that you should pretend to
-be poor?
-
-STRANGER.
-
-You are very inquisitive, good friend.
-
-INNKEEPER.
-
-That’s part of my trade, sir, as any schoolboy will tell you. Old
-people must be old; Telephus must be a beggar; the slave must chatter
-in keeping with his _rôle_. You can look it up in the _Ars poetica_, to
-which I too am subject in my office as host.
-
-STRANGER.
-
-Thank you for this graceful frenzy; I have not found so rare a
-curiosity for a long time. Show me to my room.
-
-(_Exeunt._)
-
-  _Ludwig Tieck._
-
-
-
-
-_VAN DER KABEL’S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT._
-
-
-EVER since Haslan was a duke’s residence there was no record of
-anything having been looked forward to with such curiosity--excepting
-the birth of a hereditary prince--as the opening of Van der Kabel’s
-last will and testament. Van der Kabel might have been called the
-Crœsus of Haslan, and his life a comedy of coins. Seven distant
-relatives of seven deceased distant relatives of Kabel’s indulged in
-some little hope of a place in the testament, the Crœsus having sworn
-to remember them there; but the hope was a faint one, as he seemed
-not greatly to be trusted, not only because he was in the habit of
-managing his affairs in a grimly moral and unselfish manner--in matters
-of morality the seven relatives were but beginners--but also because
-he handled things in so cynical a spirit, and with a heart so full of
-traps and snares that there was no depending upon him. The continuous
-smile about his temples and thick lips, and his shrill sneering voice,
-impaired the good impression which his nobly-formed features and a pair
-of large hands, dropping New Year’s gifts and benefits every day, might
-have made; therefore the swarms of birds declared this man, this living
-fruit-tree, which furnished them with food and nests, to be a secret
-snare, and would not see the visible berries for invisible nooses.
-
-Between two strokes of paralysis he had dictated his testament, and
-entrusted it to the magistrate. When in a half-dying state he handed
-the receipt of deposit to the seven heirs-presumptive, he said, in
-his old tone, that he should greatly deplore it if this sign of his
-approaching decease would strike down sensible men, whom he liked to
-picture as laughing heirs rather than as weeping ones.
-
-In due time the seven heirs put in an appearance at the Rathhaus with
-their receipt of deposit. There was the Right Reverend Glanz, the
-Police-inspector, the Court-agent Neupeter, the Court-attorney Knoll,
-the Bookseller Pasvogel, the Preacher Flachs, and Flitte from Elsass.
-They urged the magistrate to produce the _charte_ of the deceased
-Kabel, and open the will with all the formalities of the law. The
-high executor of the same was the ruling burgomaster in person; the
-low executors were the town councillors. Without delay the _charte_
-and testament were fetched out of the private closet and deposited
-in the court-room, passed around to the senators and heirs, that they
-might gaze upon the printed town-seal. The directions written upon the
-outside of the _charte_ were read in a loud voice by the town-scribent
-to the seven heirs, who were therewith informed that the deceased had
-in truth deposited the said _charte_ with the magistrate, and entrusted
-it to the same _scrinio rei publicae_, and that on the day when he
-had thus deposited it he had been in his right mind; last, the seven
-seals which he himself had placed thereon were examined and found
-intact. After the town-scribent had entered a registry of all these
-proceedings, the testament was opened in God’s name, and read aloud by
-the ruling burgomaster as follows:--
-
-“I, Van der Kabel, herewith declare my last will and testament this 7th
-day of May 179--, here in my house in Haslan in the Hundgasse, without
-many millions of words, though I was once a German Notary Public and
-a Dutch dominé. But I believe I am still sufficiently conversant with
-the art of a notary to be enabled to act the part of a testator and
-bequeather in a proper and becoming manner.
-
-“As for charitable legacies, so far as they are any concern of the
-lawyer’s, I declare that the poor of this town, 3000 in number, shall
-receive as many light florins, for which they may celebrate the
-anniversary day of my death next year by pitching a camp upon the
-public common; make a merry day of it, and then take the tents to make
-clothes out of them. To all schoolmasters of our dukedom I bequeath a
-Louis d’or apiece; and to the Jews of the place I bequeath my pew in
-church. As I desire to have my testament sub-divided into paragraphs,
-this may be considered as the first.
-
-“_Paragraph 2._--Declarations of inheritance and disinheritance are
-universally counted among the essentials of a testament. I therefore
-bequeath to the Right Reverend Glanz, the Court-attorney Knoll,
-the Court-agent Peter Neupeter, the Police-inspector Harprecht, the
-Preacher Flachs, the Bookseller Pasvogel, and Herr Flitte, nothing for
-the present, not so much because the most distant relatives can lay
-no claim to a _Trebellianica_, nor because most of them have enough
-to pass on to future generations as it is, but mainly because I know
-from their own assurance that they esteem my humble person more than my
-large fortune, of which I must therefore dispose otherwise.”
-
-[Illustration: “SEVEN ELONGATED FACES HERE STARTED UP.”]
-
-Seven elongated faces here started up. Especially did the Right
-Reverend Glanz, a young man noted throughout Germany for his spoken and
-printed sermons, feel himself keenly injured by such sneers. Flitte,
-from Elsass, permitted a whispered oath to escape his lips; and as for
-Flachs, the preacher, his chin grew longer and longer, and threatened
-to grow into a beard. Many a whispered ejaculation was overheard by
-the magistrate addressing the late Herr Kabel by such appellatives as
-scoundrel, fool, antichrist. But the ruling burgomaster waved his hand,
-the court-attorney and the bookseller set all the elastic springs in
-their faces as in a trap once more, and the former continued reading
-albeit with affected seriousness.
-
-“_Paragraph 3._--Excepting my present residence in the Hundgasse,
-which, according to this third paragraph, I will leave, with all that
-pertains thereto, to that one of the afore-mentioned seven gentlemen
-who, in one half-hour (counting from the reading of the paragraph),
-shall outdo his six rivals by being the first to shed a tear over me,
-his deceased relative, before an honourable magistrate, who shall
-register the fact. Should there be a drought at the end of that
-time, then the property must accrue to my heir-general, whom I shall
-forthwith name.”
-
-Here the burgomaster shut the will, remarking the conditions to be
-unusual, but not illegal, and in accordance therewith the court would
-now proceed to award the house to the first that wept; laid his watch,
-which pointed to half-past eleven, upon the table, and sat down
-silently to note, together with the lawyers, in his office of chief
-executor, who would first shed the required tears.
-
-That so long as this world exists there has ever been a sadder and more
-ruffled assembly than this of seven dry provinces united as it were to
-weep, cannot fairly be assumed. At first precious moments were lost in
-dismay and smiling surprise; it was no easy matter to be transported so
-abruptly from cursing to weeping. Emotion pure and simple was not to be
-thought of, that was quite evident; but in twenty-six minutes something
-might be done by way of enforcing an April shower.
-
-The merchant Neupeter asked if that was not a confounded affair and
-fool’s comedy for a respectable man to be concerned in, and would have
-nothing to do with it; but at the same time the thought that a house
-might be washed into his purse on the bosom of a tear strangely moved
-his lachrymal glands.
-
-The Court-attorney Knoll screwed up his face like a poor workman
-getting shaved and scratched by an apprentice on Saturday night by the
-light of a murky little lamp; he was greatly enraged at the misuse of
-testaments, and was not far removed from shedding tears of wrath.
-
-The sly bookseller at once proceeded to apply himself assiduously to
-the matter in hand, and sent his memory on a stroll through all the
-sentimental subjects he was publishing or taking on commission; he
-looked much like a dog slowly licking off the emetic which the Paris
-doctor Demet had spread on his nose; some time must necessarily elapse
-before it could take effect.
-
-Flitte, from Elsass, danced about the Session-room, looked at all the
-mourners with laughing eyes, and swore, though he was not the richest
-among them, he could not for the whole of Strasburg and Elsass weep
-when there was such a joke abroad.
-
-At last the Police-inspector Harprecht looked at him very
-significantly, and remarked that if Monsieur hoped to extract the
-required drops from the well-known glands by means of laughter, and
-fraudulently profit thereby, he begged to remind him that he would
-gain as little as if he were to blow his nose, for it was well known
-that the _ductus nasalis_ caused as many tears to take that direction
-as flow into a pew under the most affecting funeral sermon. But the
-Elsassian assured him that he was only laughing for fun without any
-serious intentions. The inspector on his part tried to bring something
-appropriate to the occasion into his eyes by opening them very wide and
-looking fixedly at one spot.
-
-The preacher Flachs looked like a beggar on horseback, whose nag is
-running away with him; like the sun shining on a dismal day, his heart,
-which was piled about with the most suitable clouds of hardships
-at home and in church, might easily have drawn water on the spot,
-but unfortunately the house swimming in on the high-tide proved too
-pleasant a sight, and repeatedly served as a dam.
-
-The Right Reverend Glanz, who knew his nature from his experience in
-New Years’ and funeral sermons, and who was quite certain that he
-would be able to work upon his own feelings if only he were granted
-an opportunity of addressing himself in touching language to others,
-now arose and said with dignity that he was sure every one who had
-read his printed works would feel convinced that he had a heart in his
-bosom, and that it was rather to be expected of him to suppress such
-sacred symbols as tears, so as to deprive no human brother, than to
-extract them by force. “This heart has overflowed ere now, but it was
-in secret, for Kabel was my friend,” he said, and looked about him.
-
-With satisfaction he saw that they were all sitting there as dry as
-so many sticks. As things stood now, crocodiles, stags, elephants,
-and witches could have wept more easily than the heirs, irritated and
-enraged by Glanz as they were. Only Flachs had a turn of good luck. He
-thought of Kabel’s good deeds and of the shabby dresses and grey locks
-of his congregation at early service, then in haste he gave a thought
-to Lazarus and his dogs and to his own lengthy coffin, then to all
-the people who have been beheaded at one time or other, the “Sorrows
-of Werther,” a battle-field; and last he gave a pitiful thought to
-himself, how young he was, and how he was working and slaving for
-a miserable paragraph in a testament. Another good heave with his
-pump-handle and it would fetch him water and a house.
-
-“Oh, Kabel, my Kabel,” continued Glanz, almost weeping at the glad
-prospect of mournful tears, “when on some future day, beside thy
-precious bosom now covered with dust, my own lies mouldering----”
-
-[Illustration: “I BELIEVE, GENTLEMEN, I AM WEEPING.”]
-
-“I believe, gentlemen,” said Flachs, getting up sadly and overflowing
-with tears, “I am weeping.” Thereupon he sat down again and allowed
-them to run cheerfully down his cheeks; he was high and dry now; he
-had successfully angled the house away from Glanz, who was very much
-put out by his efforts, because he had talked away his appetite all
-to no purpose. Flachs’s emotion was duly registered, and the house
-in the Hundgasse was legally assigned to him. The burgomaster was
-gratified that the poor devil should have it. It was the first time in
-the dukedom of Haslan that the tears of a teacher and preacher, like
-those of the goddess Freya, had changed into gold. Glanz was profuse in
-his congratulations, and jocosely reminded Flachs that he himself had
-perhaps been instrumental in bringing about this happy consummation.
-
-  _Jean Paul Friedrich Richter_ (1763-1825).
-
-
-
-
-_DIVISION OF LABOUR IN MATTERS SENTIMENTAL._
-
-
-LOVE is the perihelion of women--ay, it is the transit of such a
-Venus through the sun of the ideal world. During this time of their
-highest refinement of soul they love whatever we love, even though
-it be Science, and the best world of beauty within us; and they
-despise whatever we despise, even though it be dress and gossip.
-These nightingales sing up to the date of the summer solstice; their
-marriage-day is their longest day. The devil does not take it all at
-once, but piecemeal day by day. The firm bands of wedlock tie up the
-wings of poesy; to the free play of fancy marriage means imprisonment
-on bread and water. Many a time I have followed about one of these
-poor birds of paradise or peacocks or Psyches during their honeymoon,
-and picked up the moulted feathers that were strewn about; and when
-later the husband complained that he had taken unto himself a bald
-and unlovely bird, I would show him the wasted treasure. Why is this?
-Because marriage erects a crust of reality about the ideal world; it
-is much the same case as with the sphere we live on, which, according
-to Descartes, is a sun enveloped in an earthy shell. A woman lacks the
-power which a man has to protect the inner structures of air and fancy
-against the encroachments of the rough outside. Where shall she seek
-refuge? In her natural keeper. A man should ever stand guard with a
-spoon over the fluid silver of the feminine intellect, to remove the
-scum as it rises, that the regulus of the ideal may shine the brighter.
-But there are two kinds of men: the Arcadians or lyric poets of life,
-who love for ever, like Rousseau when his hair was grey--such are not
-to be comforted when the gilt-edged feminine anthology of wit shows
-no gold as they turn the leaves, as is apt to be the case in books
-bordered with gold; second, there are the boorish shepherds of to-day,
-the plebeian poetasters and practical men of business, who thank God
-when their enchantress, like other enchantresses, changes into a
-growling domestic cat, and keeps the house free from vermin.
-
-No one suffers from greater _ennui_ and anxiety than a fat, weighty,
-slouching, bass-voiced man of business, who, like the Roman elephants
-of former times, is called upon to dance upon the slender rope of love,
-and whose amorous pantomimes always remind me of dormice, that seem to
-be at a loss about their every movement when sudden warmth interrupts
-their dormant state. Only with widows, who care less to be loved than
-to be married, can a heavy man of business begin his romance where the
-novelists end theirs--viz., at the steps of the altar. Such a man,
-constructed on the crudest style, would have a load off his mind if
-he could get some one to love his shepherdess in his name until there
-was nothing more to be done but to have the wedding; the taking upon
-myself of such crosses and burdens for another is just what I should
-feel a calling for. I have often thought of advertising it in public
-papers (had I not feared it might be taken for a joke), that I offer
-myself to serve as plenipotentiary to any man of business who has no
-time to properly make love to a girl. Provided only she be tolerable,
-I should be willing to swear platonic everlasting affection, make the
-necessary declarations of love, and, in short, substitute myself in the
-most disinterested manner, or escort her arm-in-arm through the ups and
-downs of the land of love, until on the border I could make her over to
-the prospective bridegroom in proper condition to be married. Instead
-of marriage by proxy we should thus have love by proxy.
-
-  _Jean Paul Friedrich Richter._
-
-
-
-
-_A TENDER-HEARTED CRITIC._
-
-
-HE composed reviews as others do prayers--only when in straits; it was
-like the carrying of water of the Athenian so that he might thus be
-free to devote himself to his favourite studies without hunger. But his
-satirical sting he would put in the sheath when writing reviews. “Petty
-authors,” he said, “are always bitter, and great ones are worse than
-their works. Why should I be less severe upon the genius for his moral
-faults, such as vanity, than upon the dunce? On the contrary. Poverty
-and ugliness not self-incurred deserve no disdain; but neither do they
-deserve it _when_ self-incurred, though Cicero be against me. For
-neither a moral fault nor its punishment can be increased by a physical
-consequence which may follow or may not follow. Is the spendthrift who
-is impoverished in consequence of his way of living more to be blamed
-than the spendthrift who goes free? On the contrary.”
-
-Applying this to poor writers whose unconquerable self-conceit hides
-their worthlessness to themselves, upon whose innocent hearts the
-critic vents his just wrath over their guilty heads, it is certainly
-permissible to scoff bitterly at the type, but the individual should
-be more gently dealt with. Methinks it would be the gold-test of a
-morally immaculate scholar if he were called upon to review a poor but
-celebrated book.
-
-  _Jean Paul Friedrich Richter._
-
-
-
-
-_THE ACCIDENT OF THE DISTINGUISHED STRANGER._
-
-
-(FROM SCENE XII. OF “DIE DEUTSCHEN KLEINSTÄDTER.”)
-
- (_Scene in the Burgomaster’s home in a small town. News has just been
- received of a traveller, whose carriage has met with an accident
- in a quarry just outside the town._ FRAU STAAR, _the Burgomaster’s
- mother, is all in a flutter as to the best way of doing honour to the
- distinguished stranger, and has sent for all of her female relatives,
- to obtain their advice in this difficult question_.)
-
-FRAU STAAR. FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-Here I am, most dear Dame Cousin. I ran so, I have no breath left. I
-was but just drinking my seventh cup of coffee, but I jumped up and
-left everything, at your message.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-Greatly obliged, most esteemed Dame Cousin. Have you heard----
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-I know everything! My maid had gone to market, and the butcher told her
-his neighbour, the linen-draper, had heard how the bailiff had said to
-his daughter: Mickey, he said, out in the quarry there are a couple of
-counts lying, who have broken their arms and legs, and will be here in
-a minute. The watchman will blow a horn from the turret, the children
-will strew flowers on their path, the magistrate _in corpore_ will go
-to meet them, and the bells will be rung.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-It is only one, Dame Cousin; only one is lying in the quarry, probably
-a gentleman of quality. He is to be our guest. The Minister of State
-has written and has asked my son. Now you can fancy, Dame Cousin, the
-excitement in the house. And everything is on my shoulders! Everything
-rests upon me!
-
-(_Enter Frau Morgenroth._)
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Your servant, most esteemed Dame Cousin. Only see how my walk has
-heated me. I trust I am not too late? With your permission be it said,
-I had scarce a thing on me, was singing my morning hymn and combing
-my poodle-dog. At the third stanza your maid came rushing in. My God,
-I thought the house was on fire! Then and there I jumped up, the
-poodle-dog dropped from my lap, the hymnal fell in the coals where I
-was warming my coffee, the coffee was spilled, and two stanzas of the
-hymn, “Awake, my heart, and sing!” were burned up.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-I regret it, exceedingly, worthy Dame Cousin----
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Oh, it’s of no consequence. I know all. Out in the quarry lie three or
-four princes; one is dead, the other is gasping a bit now and then. The
-coachman has broken his neck, the horses are lying stiff and stark. I
-met the Herr Assistant-Bailiff Balg on the street; his cook told him;
-she knows it from the wife of the Lottery Inspector; her husband’s
-barber told her all the details.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-Tut, tut, it is not quite so bad as all that. A short time ago a
-peasant came here from Kabendorf----
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-I know, he got a solid thaler for a tip.
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Far from it, Dame Cousin, a Louis-d’or it was.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-He had run as fast as he could run.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-They say it gave him a pain in his side.
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-His nose bled too.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-A person of quality met with an accident.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-A count----
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Several princes.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-That we do not know. He must be of noble extraction, for he does not
-lodge in the “Golden Cat,” but at our house, at the express desire of
-his Honour the Minister of State. Now, as my son, the Burgomaster and
-Chief Alderman, represents in his person the whole town as it were, you
-will, of course, understand that he must do honour to his position.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-A banquet at the Town Hall----
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-A dance at the archers’ guild----
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-To-morrow, as you know, is the great _fête_.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-Oh yes, the woman that stole the cow nine years ago----
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-To-morrow she goes to the pillory. I am looking forward to it with a
-great deal of pleasure.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-I have had a brand-new robe made for the occasion.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-There have been many arrangements made to fitly celebrate this event.
-But to-day the honour of the town is wholly in our hands; to-day _we_
-must show what we can do, and with the help of God we will. The tables
-shall bend under His blessings. My worthy cousins are herewith invited.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-I look upon it as a great honour.
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Shall not fail.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-Now, you see, I should like to make the distinguished stranger
-acquainted with our people of quality. So I have sent for you to ask
-your advice as to the persons to be invited.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL (_meditating_).
-
-Ah, well, I think----
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-You might perhaps----
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-Invite the Herr Convoy-and-Land-Excise-Commissary Kropt----
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-No, Dame Cousin, he gave a banquet the other day on his mother’s
-birthday, and did not ask us.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-Ah, indeed!
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Perhaps the Herr Board-of-Revenue-Supernumerary-Secretary Wittmann?
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-No, Dame Cousin; my husband, the late Herr Brendel, had a law-suit with
-him about his drains.
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-That alters the matter.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-I thought of the Herr Post-Luggage-Inspector-General Holbein?
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-For heaven’s sake, Dame Cousin! he has a most insufferable wife!
-There’s hardly a Sunday passes but she has a new dress, and the way she
-goes rustling past my pew----
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-She carries her head higher than need be----
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-And we all remember her so well----
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-Yes, when she wore a grey spencer with a green apron.
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-There are strange rumours where she takes it from.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-No, I would rather suggest the Herr
-County-Tavern-Harvest-and-Quarter-Tax-and-Impost-Controller Kunkel.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-Don’t mention him, worthy Cousin; he is a rude fellow, who has no
-manners! Would you believe it, he did not so much as call upon us in a
-decent and proper manner, the pert addle-head! He left his card, fancy!
-One might sooner ask the Herr Penal-Raft-Commander Weidenbaum.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-No, Dame Cousin, for heaven’s sake, no! You remember how the wicked
-fellow was seen to talk to my brother-in-law’s step-daughter three
-times, and how consequently he intended to marry her? Now he holds
-himself aloof, and has made the poor girl the talk of the town.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-Goodness me, is there any one we can ask then?
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-There comes Cousin Sperling.
-
-(_Enter Sperling, with a large bouquet._)
-
-SPERLING.
-
-Frau Under-Tax-Receiver, Frau Chief-Raft-and-Fishery Master, Frau
-Town-Excise-Treasury-Secretary, your humble servant! I was in my
-garden--the Herr Vice-Church-Superintendent sent for me--I ran like
-a sunbeam! Scarce did I take the time to cull these children of the
-spring.
-
-THE THREE LADIES.
-
-Do you know already?
-
-SPERLING.
-
-I know all. A celebrated professor--carriage smashed up--nose
-ditto--letter of recommendation from the Minister of State.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-A professor, you say?
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-Only a professor?
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Oh, my delicious coffee that was spilled in the fire!
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-Never believe it, Dame Cousin. All my life I have heard that
-ministers take little interest in professors. No, no, there is some
-misunderstanding.
-
-SPERLING.
-
-Nay, but I will stand up for my opinion that the man who has had his
-nose smashed is a learned professor, on his way from Egypt or Weimar,
-where he has either been measuring the pillar of Pompey, or else seen
-Wieland put his head out of the window. In short, there is no time to
-be lost. Here are the flowers. Now get me some children. Children I
-must have! Then he may come and see what the town of Krähwinkel can do!
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-Gently, gently; they shall be here at once.
-
-  (_Exit._)
-
-(SPERLING _turns aside and mutely practises the pantomimes of
-reception_.)
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Have you noticed, worthy cousin, what ridiculous airs the old lady is
-putting on?
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-Yes, indeed, Dame Cousin; she puffs herself up like dough in the oven.
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Goodness me! Her husband was only _Under_-Tax-Receiver.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-When he died he left a debt to the Treasury.
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Dear me, and I wonder what the banquet will be like? Do you remember
-that joint eight weeks ago? It was horribly burned.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-And how she looks! what will she put on?
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Not much choice. She has but three gowns.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-To be sure, the brown one----
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-And the white one----
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-And her stuff gown.
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-She had that made for the first christening at the burgomaster’s.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-Begging your pardon, Dame Cousin, it was made when the
-Vice-Church-Superintendent married his second wife.
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Who was another such fool.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-You’re right there, quite right there.
-
-(_Enter Frau Staar with two children, the latter eating enormous slices
-of bread and butter._)
-
-[Illustration: ENTER FRAU STAAR WITH TWO CHILDREN.]
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-There are the children.
-
-SPERLING.
-
-Come along then!
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-Drop a curtsey to your dear Dame Cousin first, there’s a good child!
-Now shake hands; that’s right!
-
-FRAU BRENDEL (_wiping the butter from her fingers_).
-
-Enchanting little creatures. God bless them!
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-The very pictures of our dear Dame Cousin.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-I trust they have had the pox!
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-Not yet. My son wished to have them inoculated, but I will never give
-my consent. I would not forestall the Almighty.
-
-SPERLING.
-
-Children, lay your bread and butter aside.
-
-CHILDREN.
-
-No, no.
-
-SPERLING.
-
-Well, then, take the flowers in the other hand.
-
-(_Enter Herr Staar and the Burgomaster._)
-
-HERR STAAR (_hastily_).
-
-They are just driving in through the gate. The street is full of boys.
-They are running along by the carriage, and yelling at the top of their
-voice.
-
-BURGOMASTER (_hastily_).
-
-He comes, he comes! The watchman is standing ready with his trumpet.
-
-SPERLING.
-
-Goodness gracious! The children are so awkward----
-
-HERR STAAR.
-
-All you have to do is to strew your flowers and fling them in his face.
-
-(_The blast of a trumpet very much out of tune._)
-
-BURGOMASTER.
-
-Quick, quick! All go to meet him!
-
-HERR STAAR.
-
-The children lead the way!
-
-SPERLING (_snatches the bread and butter out of their hands and throws
-it on the table_).
-
-Leave your bread and butter here.
-
-HERR STAAR (_urging the children toward the door_).
-
-Quick, quick!
-
-CHILDREN (_crying_).
-
-I want my bread and butter! My bread and butter!
-
-BURGOMASTER (_following them_).
-
-Will you hold your tongues?
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-Frau Chief-Raft-and-Fishery-Master, you will have the kindness to
-precede me.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-Never, Frau Town-Excise-Treasury-Secretary. I most urgently beg you----
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-Frau Under-Tax-Receiver, the honour is due to you.
-
-FRAU STAAR.
-
-The heavens preserve me! I am at home in this house.
-
-FRAU BRENDEL.
-
-I know my place----
-
-FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-I will not stir a step.
-
-(_The three begin to bow and curtsey, and all talk at the same time._)
-
-(THE CURTAIN DROPS.)
-
-  _August von Kotzebue_ (1761-1819).
-
-
-
-
-_HOW THE VICAR CAME AROUND._
-
-
-THE Frau Obersteuerrätin was “auntie” to the whole world; and indeed
-she deserved the name, for she was a motherly friend, counsellor, and
-helper to all who came within her domain; she was the best and most
-charitable of women, judging mildly of the weaknesses of others so
-long as her own little weaknesses were respected. She over-looked the
-eccentricities of her clerical brother, which he committed in a state
-of absent-mindedness, and she did not raise any objections to Susie’s
-marvellous _naïveté_, though often enough it caused her bitter dilemmas.
-
-It was a warm May day on which the Vicar entered the room with his
-usual greeting: “Good morning, Auntie--good morning, Susie.”
-
-Auntie nodded pleasantly. Susie, who was sitting by her on the sofa,
-knitting a white stocking, arose, dropped a little familiar curtsey,
-and said: “_Votre servante_, Uncle.”
-
-“But, Heaven preserve us, what is the matter with you to-day, Vicar?”
-said Aunt Rosmarin.
-
-“How so?” queried the Vicar, putting his hands in all of his pockets in
-a vain search for a handkerchief with which to wipe the perspiration
-from his brow.
-
-“It’s very likely you have your wig in your pocket,” said Auntie, “for
-your handkerchief is on your head.”
-
-“On my head,” exclaimed the Vicar in surprise, and putting his hand
-there he found it. “I shouldn’t be greatly surprised if you were right,
-Auntie; it’s a hot, hot day; the sun was burning, my back was burning;
-I came from town, so I took off my wig to cool my head, spread my
-handkerchief over the latter, and lay down in a corn-field.”
-
-Again he began to search his pockets, while Susie made room for him
-on the sofa, and went out to get him a refreshing drink of water and
-raspberry syrup.
-
-“What are you looking for, Vicar?” asked Auntie.
-
-“If I mistake not, I brought a letter for you from town; but what
-has become of it is more than I can tell. I think it is from the
-Burgomaster. Seek and ye shall find.”
-
-“But, Vicar, first of all, put on your wig--this is very indecent. It
-is an insult to your congregation to walk about bald-headed.”
-
-“I should hope not. But in that case I trust that there would be bears
-to obey me, like the prophet Elisha, and devour all bad boys who would
-make bold to have a laugh at me. But, _ad vocem_, my wig, Auntie; what
-did you do with it?”
-
-“What did I do with it? You did not entrust it to my keeping. Perhaps
-you lost it on the way!”
-
-“Heaven preserve us! It was my best wig. You are right, Auntie; it is
-lying in the grass, together with the Burgomaster’s letter, precisely
-on the spot where I myself lay a quarter of an hour ago, in the shadow
-of the corn.”
-
-Auntie seized her bell. The maid appeared; the Inspector was called,
-and ordered to send for the wig and the letter--as quick as possible.
-Auntie was quite as impatient to hide the Vicar’s baldness as to read
-the Burgomaster’s letter. The shape of the wig, as well as colour and
-address of the letter, were explicitly described to the Inspector, and
-he forthwith sent two grooms, four threshers, and one dairy-boy out
-upon all roads, footpaths, and byways that run between Nieder-Fahren
-and Waiblingen. He stationed himself upon the hill by the wind-mill and
-reconnoitred the field of action through a telescope. Such excellent
-arrangements could not fail to bring about the desired result. In
-half-an-hour the seven messengers returned to the house led by the wig,
-the letter, and the Inspector.
-
-Sure enough the letter was from the Burgomaster. It contained nothing
-less than a formal invitation to the Frau Obersteuerrätin, together
-with her brother and Fräulein Susie and the Inspector Säblein, to the
-wedding of the Burgomaster’s eldest daughter.
-
-Although Auntie felt very much flattered by this attention of the
-Burgomaster, with whom she was but slightly acquainted, there were some
-difficulties in the way which must needs be talked over in a family
-council.
-
-Auntie was very much averse to bringing Susie into contact in any
-way with the young gentlemen of Waiblingen. First of all, Susie was
-seventeen years old--a fact which did not seem at all portentous to
-the child, but all the more so to her cautious aunt. Second, Susie was
-beautiful as any Susanna, not excepting the one in the Old Testament.
-Thirdly, she had the prospect of inheriting a considerable fortune,
-and Auntie had no notion of giving up her darling to the first-comer.
-Fourthly, Susie was exceedingly inexperienced, though she was not
-wanting in the usual measure of laudable curiosity.
-
-The young men of Waiblingen were in no way suited to be the companions
-of such a girl. First, because a great many of them were handsome,
-which is a very bad thing; and secondly, they were all great lovers of
-comedies and novels; they kept up an amateur stage; and at Waiblingen
-two booksellers made their living with circulating libraries--a bad
-sign of our times! Thirdly, even though one might have forgiven them
-their sleek faces and romantic tendencies, few of them had a fortune
-that would weigh in the scales against Aunt Rosmarin’s possessions, nor
-were they of a rank to be compared with the title of Obersteuerrat.
-
-Auntie had pondered this question long since in the silence of her own
-heart, and she had come to the conclusion that it was best to take
-defensive measures against the elegant world of Waiblingen. Susie
-seldom went there, and still seldomer were there any young guests
-invited to Nieder-Fahren.
-
-After ripe consideration it was decided in the family council, in
-which the Inspector also took part, to go to the wedding at the
-Burgomaster’s, but not without the utmost caution.
-
-Auntie undertook to call Susie’s attention to the dangers arising out
-of the affections. The Vicar was to add spiritual admonition, and
-the Inspector--who had the reputation of having been a good waltzer
-in his younger years, while now he was unfortunately a bachelor of
-fifty-six--promised to renew Susie’s dancing-lessons. At the wedding
-all three pledged each other to do their best, and not lose the damsel
-out of sight.
-
-Hereupon tailors, shoemakers, and milliners were put in a fair way of
-getting a living. Auntie was desirous of doing whatever was due to her
-rank, and she also had the pardonable pride of showing off Susie’s
-beauty to the best advantage.
-
-Susie was delighted with the elaborate preparations--all this was a
-new experience. She put her dancing-master quite out of breath, and
-her only regret was that his feet being fifty-six years old were not
-as flexible as hers being seventeen. Joy and nature taught her to
-dance; but Säblein took it all upon his account. He was nothing loath
-to practise his noble half-forgotten art, the less so as the family
-council had decreed that he alone should be Susie’s partner at the
-wedding.
-
-Unfortunately this plan miscarried, and the reason was this. The day
-before the wedding all the dances were to be reviewed once more under
-the supervision of the Vicar and Auntie. Before the spectators came,
-Säblein exerted himself more than was good for him to dance at least
-no worse than his clever pupil. She floated about like a butterfly,
-and in her rapture took many a step which was no less graceful for
-not coming under any rule. Säblein, in an ecstasy of delight, rashly
-undertook to show her the acme of his art. Years ago he could dance
-_entrechats_,--ambition pricked him to make a trial once more. His
-first attempt was half a failure, his second was a whole one. His
-lank, thin-whittled legs, which had never been a cause of reproach to
-him, got so hopelessly and abnormally entangled that, the rest of his
-body keeping in motion, a disaster was inevitable. The unfortunate
-dancing-master fell in a most _un_masterly manner upon the floor, and
-as a falling pine uproots all blooming bushes that surround it, so he
-pulled down the little sylph that was frolicking about him.
-
-The Vicar, just about to open the door from without, heard the fall
-which shook the very foundations of the house, and entered hastily. It
-was partly this haste and partly the Vicar’s near-sightedness, which
-he was wont to forget in his absent-mindedness, which became the cause
-of a second accident. He stepped upon the dancing-master’s leg, which
-the latter drew back with pardonable abruptness, thereby robbing the
-Vicar of his equilibrium. Before he had time to beg pardon he lay upon
-the floor along with the others. While his powdered wig was propelled
-by the rapid motion far under the sofa, his short legs performed some
-wonderful antics, and at last turned up their soles toward Heaven, as
-if imploring its aid.
-
-The whole occurrence was a very short one. The Vicar was the first to
-gather himself up, and, mistaking Susie’s snowy, befrilled cap for
-his escaped wig, he seized it without more ado, and covered his head
-therewith because he heard the Obersteuerrätin at the door. Susie was
-on her feet too before Auntie entered. But Säblein sat upon the floor
-making horrible faces, for he had hurt his hip.
-
-“Great heavens!” cried Aunt Rosmarin, clapping her hands together, and
-looking now at the Inspector’s painful grimaces, now at her brother’s
-head in a woman’s cap. “Are you playing a farce? Are you forgetful
-of all decency? Do you call this good breeding? and especially you,
-Vicar?” ...
-
-“And pray, why is it especially I?” he asked with a touch of
-sensitiveness, for he did not greatly like his sister’s sermons.
-
-Here Susie gained a hearing, and quickly restored peace by giving
-her perplexed aunt the explanation to this riddle, and laughingly
-exchanging her cap for the wig.
-
-[Illustration: THE VICAR HASTENING TO COVER HIS BALDNESS.]
-
-This apparently unimportant occurrence was the firs cause to all
-following misfortunes; for Säblein went limping about for many days,
-and consequently could not dance at the wedding.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Aunt Rosmarin had her suspicions when she saw Susie, now swimming
-in bliss, now abject and mournful, or when she heard how Susie went
-walking in the park evening after evening, and when she herself,
-putting aside her dread of rheumatism, secretly followed her there, but
-always found Susie alone.
-
-Auntie shook her head, and said to her brother: “I believe, Vicar, our
-little baroness is in love.” She had hit it, but wise Auntie never
-thought of the baron. “We must keep our eyes on this marvellously
-mysterious child, for she will confess nothing to me. It is a delicate
-task, I know, and I myself am too old to run after her in the park
-every day the Lord makes. And, of course, Vicar, it is not a matter to
-be entrusted to the domestics; that were contrary to all dignity and
-order. But at the same time she must be watched, for these constant
-visits to the park for the last fortnight must have some good reason.”
-
-“Trust me, Auntie,” said the Vicar--“trust me; I will guard the park
-like a spy. Murder shall out. This is just the sort of thing that suits
-me.”
-
-The plans were laid with great subtlety. The Vicar looked unconcerned
-in Susie’s presence, and the following day at sunset he started upon
-his errand.
-
-He was indeed very lucky, for the Baron was really in the park. He was
-twice lucky, for it so happened that he entered the park from the side
-where it touched the woods, and where the Baron was wont to enter it.
-He was in the habit of leaving his horse there, and giving it to the
-servant to hold.
-
-The servant, finding his task decidedly dull, had to-day tied the
-Baron’s horse to a young birch-tree and gone about his own affairs. The
-Vicar looked at the elegantly-equipped noble steed from all sides, and
-nodding his head thoughtfully, unfastened it, saying to himself, “I’ll
-take it home to our stable; the owner will no doubt apply for it, and
-all the rest will follow. In truth, it’s a shrewd plan!”
-
-But there was an unfavourable circumstance. There seemed to be a secret
-understanding between the horse and his master. He most decidedly
-objected to being pulled along by the bridle; no amount of patting and
-caressing had any effect; he planted his fore-legs firmly on the ground
-and pulled his head back.
-
-“Friend,” said the Vicar, “at best you are but a beast, and you have no
-eyes behind your ears. I’ll wager you will go willingly.” With that he
-climbed upon the noble animal’s back, which stood as patient as a lamb.
-To be sure it was thirty years or more since the good Vicar had been
-on horseback, and, moreover, his legs were about two inches too short
-for the stirrups; but then it was to be but a few moments’ ride, and it
-was well to show Aunt Rosmarin that he had not forgotten the chivalrous
-arts over his theology. Over and above all this there was danger in
-delay.
-
-So he belaboured the horse’s shanks with his boots, and the steed,
-taken aback by such ill-treatment, at once began to canter along the
-woody path, across the field into the open road, having for weeks
-past traversed no other way than this with the Baron. The Vicar, in
-danger of losing his balance, with laudable precaution clasped his
-fingers in the mane of his Pegasus. Finding himself upon the road,
-however, instead of parading under Auntie’s window, he tried to grasp
-the bridle. Over this attempt he came very near losing both stirrups.
-Making sure of these once more, he let the bridle alone. For a while
-these two purposes warred with each other, and between times he
-admonished the fiery horse with many caresses to stand still. But it
-was all in vain; and when in his despair he pulled the line too tight,
-at the same time clasping the horse’s sides firmly with his legs, it
-forthwith rose upon its hind feet, and, to his inexpressible horror,
-began to walk about like a human being, and perform tricks which were
-positively not to the Vicar’s taste just at that moment.
-
-He now succumbed to fate and to his horse, clinging to the latter with
-hands and feet while it sped along at a full gallop till the poor
-Vicar was deaf and blind with dizziness.
-
-“Out of the depths have I cried unto Thee,” he sighed. “If this isn’t
-the very devil himself! Had I but left the beast standing where I was
-how happy should I be!”
-
-It so happened that right here the road had been barred by peasants in
-honour of the grazing cattle.
-
-[Illustration: “FELT THE WAVES PENETRATE HIS BLACK SILK STOCKINGS.”]
-
-“Te Deum laudamus!” cried the Vicar. “Here surely this rascal of a
-horse will come to a stand.” But the steed leaped over as if he had
-wings, so that the horseman’s hair stood on end, and his hat and wig
-took flight in horror. “I have learned to ride better than you, for I
-still hold my seat,” said the good Vicar in Christian tranquillity to
-the truants, not venturing to turn and look after them.
-
-“Whither, in the Lord’s name? Twice four-and-twenty hours at this rate
-and we shall have spanned this terrestrial globe and come out on the
-other side at Nieder-Fahren.” As he was saying this they approached a
-bridge. The Vicar, in terror lest the horse in its blind rage might
-miss the bridge and leap into the stream, tugged frantically at the
-line on the side nearest to the bridge. But he tugged too long; the
-provoking animal thereupon left the bridge lying at the right, and
-jumped into the water. The Vicar came very near fainting away when he
-became aware of floating between heaven and water, and felt the waves
-penetrate his black silk stockings, and soon after his velvet breeches,
-until they played about his hips.
-
-The horse, which was a capital swimmer, reached the opposite shore in
-safety, regained the road, and jauntily continued its journey until it
-reached Schloss Malzen, where it darted joyfully with the Vicar into
-the open door of the stable, standing still at last in its own familiar
-stall.
-
-The servants in the courtyard ran in after him, helped the rider out of
-the saddle, and anxiously inquired how he had come into possession of
-the Baron’s horse.
-
-An unspeakable sense of blissful security seized the much-tried
-clergyman as once more he felt _terra-firma_ beneath his feet. Deprived
-of his hat and his wig, to be sure, and the lower half of his body
-dripping with water, far from home, the approaching night before him,
-and upon the domain of the arch-enemy of Nieder-Fahren--all these
-circumstances served to make the situation not altogether agreeable.
-But what cared he so long as his life was saved?
-
-While the servants were storming the breathless gentleman with
-questions the Baron’s steward appeared upon the scene, and hospitably
-urged him to come into the house. As upon his request a carriage
-was promised him to take him back to Nieder-Fahren, he consented
-to enter and rest before his departure. Meanwhile nearly two hours
-passed; no carriage appeared, and the Vicar began to wax suspicious
-lest he was being treated as a prisoner for having run away with the
-horse, although he had repeatedly affirmed that it was he who had
-been run away with. He finally decided to take flight. He arose, and
-was about to open the door, when Baron Pompeius von Malzen entered,
-having arrived upon his lackey’s horse while the despairing lackey
-was on a search for the Baron’s steed through the whole of Ober and
-Nieder-Fahren.
-
-The Baron, recognising the worthy uncle of his wife--the tale
-concerning the arrival of the horse with a wigless and decidedly damp
-clergyman had been related to him in the courtyard--at once escorted
-him to a better room, ordered dry clothing, and gave the Vicar time to
-change his garments. His departure was quite out of the question for
-that night; the Baron would not let the opportunity escape him to heap
-coals of fire upon the head of one of his adversaries, to entertain him
-sumptuously, and overwhelm him with courtesies.
-
-Susie’s uncle, surprised at the Baron’s cordial manner, soon felt very
-comfortable behind smoking viands and bottles of Burgundy. Still,
-however soft and firm he sat upon the luxurious cushions of his chair,
-he could not for the whole evening rid himself of the notion, as he
-said, of having “the hellish beast” between his legs.
-
-“At the same time I am more grateful to my good horse than I can tell
-you,” said the Baron, “for bringing me the uncle of my beloved wife. I
-have long wished for the honour of your acquaintance, so that I might
-beg for your kind intercession. I adore my wife, and a separation is
-about to be forced upon us. My wife has forgiven me--nay, more, she
-loves me; she does not desire a separation, and yet----”
-
-“Loves you? Does not desire a separation?” cried the Vicar, shaking his
-head, which was adorned with the Baron’s best cotton night-cap.
-
-“Will you have proofs?” said the Baron. “Ah, I will be frank with
-our dear uncle. You shall know all. This hour may decide our life’s
-happiness.” He thereupon went and fetched Susie’s letters.
-
-And indeed from his niece’s letters the Vicar saw that between her
-and the Baron there was eternal peace, and a great deal more that is
-eternal.
-
-He seemed greatly touched as he laid the letters down; he stretched out
-his hand across the table, and said--
-
-“Baron, I for my part will make peace with you. Susie shall be yours,
-and the law-suit may go to the dogs. But we must handle Aunt Rosmarin
-carefully. She is a dear, good woman, but she has peculiar ideas about
-some things. Up to this day I was a raging Saul, henceforth I shall be
-a gentle Paul, and shall begin at once upon my work of conversion.”
-
-The Baron jumped up, embracing and kissing brave Saul in a rapture of
-delight.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Meanwhile Aunt Rosmarin had heard her brother relate the story of his
-adventure. When he told her how he found the horse, her eyes sparkled
-with pleasure at the discovery. The fact of his getting into the saddle
-she accompanied with the remark: “You don’t know how to ride. Every
-cobbler to his last!” When he came to his aerial flight across the
-bar, and his swim through the stream, she jumped up, nervously seized
-her brother’s two hands and cried, “For heaven’s sake, what dangers
-were you subject to!” And she did not regain her composure until he
-halted before the horse’s crib. Then, as the Baron came in, her face
-lengthened; the warmer the Vicar grew in chanting his praises the
-cooler was Aunt Rosmarin. And when he had the audacity to add, “Susie
-does not seem to dislike the Baron; seems to me we had better let the
-law-suit go, and let things take their course,” Auntie shook her head,
-while she gazed at her brother from top to toe with wide open eyes.
-
-“Well, I never!” said she. “I fear me the ride and the fright have done
-you some injury. If the Baron did not turn you out into the pitch-dark
-night, giving you lodging and food instead, he did no more than
-heathens and barbarians would have done. You need not think I’ll give
-him Susie for his roasts and his Burgundy. A weak sort of man you must
-be to be willing to sacrifice your principles and all the disgrace and
-sorrow our family has suffered through the Baron for one poor supper.”
-
-Then did the Vicar arise in indignation and say, “Why, Aunt Rosmarin,
-has all Christian charity gone out of you? I wish then that _you_ had
-ridden the Baron’s horse in my stead; I wish _you_ had been called
-upon to fly through the air, and to swim through the surging billows,
-to make the acquaintance of an honourable man. Then you would think
-different.”
-
-Aunt Rosmarin thought her brother’s remarkable wish very improper,
-as well as insulting. She thereupon gave him a lecture lasting three
-hours, and having for its perpetual refrain, “I will not hear another
-word about the Baron. In future I shall act alone, in strict accordance
-with my principles.”
-
-  _Heinrich Zschokke_ (1771-1848).
-
-
-
-
-_THE MAN WHO SOLD HIS SHADOW._
-
-
-WHAT was my horror to see the man in grey come behind with the evident
-purpose of accosting me. He raised his hat and bowed with a more
-profound obeisance than I had ever been honoured with. I returned the
-courtesy, and stood bare-headed in the sun as if rooted to the ground.
-I stared at him in an agony of terror, like a bird under the spell of a
-serpent. He seemed greatly embarrassed, did not raise his eyes, bowed
-repeatedly, approached me, and began to speak in a gentle, wavering
-voice, with the tone of a mendicant.
-
-“I trust your Honour will have the kindness to pardon my presumption in
-venturing to address you, being a stranger. I have a very particular
-request to make. Graciously permit me, sir----”
-
-“For heaven’s sake,” I cried in terror, “what can I do for a man
-who----” We both stopped, and, as it seemed to me, we blushed.
-
-After a moment of silence he began again. “During the short time that
-it was my good fortune to enjoy the presence of your company, I have
-had occasion more than once to gaze--if you will permit me to say
-so--with inexpressible admiration upon the well-formed, handsome shadow
-which, with an air of noble disdain, as if scorning to set any value
-upon it, you cast behind you. It is a superb shadow you have there
-lying at your feet. Pardon the temerity of the suggestion; would it be
-possible to induce you to sell this same shadow to me?”
-
-He ceased speaking, and it seemed as if a wheel were going around in
-my head. What was I to make of this remarkable proposition? He must be
-crazy, I thought, and in an altered voice, more suited to the humility
-of his tone, I replied--
-
-“Go to, good friend; have you not enough with your own shadow? What
-you propose is a very strange bargain.” He interrupted me with, “I
-have many a useful thing in my pocket that your Honour might find
-convenient; for this inestimable shadow there is no price I should deem
-too high. To show my gratitude to you, sir, I would give you your own
-choice of all the treasures I carry about with me. I have miraculous
-wands of the witch-hazel, I have Mercury’s cap and potent draughts,
-the dish-cloth of Roland’s page, and a Homunculus, but best of all is
-the magic purse of Fortunatus.” “A magic purse,” I interrupted him,
-and great as was my horror, he had captured my sensibilities with that
-word. A deathly giddiness came over me, and rows of ducats seemed to
-twinkle before my eyes.
-
-“Would your Honour have the goodness to examine the purse?” He put
-his hand in his pocket and drew out a medium-sized, strongly-made bag
-of leather, with heavy leather cords for draw-strings, and handed me
-the same. I put my hand in and pulled out ten golden coins, and ten
-more, and ten more, and ten more. I held out my hand to him: “It is
-a bargain; for the bag I’ll give you my shadow.” He clasped my hand
-to seal the bargain, and then quickly knelt down before me, and with
-marvellous dexterity loosening my shadow from the grass, he lifted it,
-rolled it up, folded it, and at last put it in his pocket. He arose,
-bowed once more, and then vanished among the rose bushes. Methought I
-heard him laugh softly to himself. I held the bag tightly in my hands.
-Round about me the earth was bright with sunshine, and within me there
-was as yet no wisdom.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Meanwhile it had grown late, and, unnoticed, the dawn preceding sunrise
-was brightening the sky. It was a very unpleasant surprise when I
-looked up and saw the glory of colour unfold in the east. There was no
-refuge on this open plain that I was traversing from the approaching
-sun, and that too at an hour when shadows sport their utmost extension!
-And I was not alone! I glanced at my companion, and once more I
-trembled. He was no other than the man in grey.
-
-He smiled at my consternation, and continued, without giving me time
-to speak: “Let us, true to the custom of the world, be united for a
-while by the reciprocal advantages to be derived from such a union; we
-have time enough to separate later on. This road which you are taking
-happens to be my road also. I see you turn pale before the rising sun.
-I will lend you your shadow for the time of our companionship, and in
-return I will ask you to tolerate me at your side. You have lost your
-servant Bendel; I will yield you as good service. You do not look upon
-me with favour; this I greatly regret. I can be of service to you,
-nevertheless. The devil is not as black as he is painted. It is true
-you offended me yesterday; to-day I bear you no ill-will, and I have
-shortened the way for you so far, as you yourself must confess. Will
-you not give your shadow a trial?”
-
-The sun had risen, early wayfarers came along the road; however
-distasteful it might be, I accepted his proposal. Smiling, he allowed
-my shadow to glide upon the ground. It fell into place on the shadow
-of my horse, and cheerily trotted along beside me. Strange feelings
-took possession of me. I rode past a group of country people, who, with
-uncovered head, respectfully made room for a person of quality. I rode
-on, and looked with greedy eyes and a beating heart down from my horse
-upon the shadow that once was mine, and which I had now borrowed from a
-stranger, ay, from an enemy.
-
-The latter walked unconcernedly beside me, whistling a tune--he on
-foot, I on horseback! A tremor seized me; the temptation was too great;
-I suddenly turned my horse’s head, gave him the spurs, and off I went
-in a full canter down a byway; but I did not succeed in bringing the
-shadow with me; as the horse turned it slipped down, and awaited its
-lawful master in the road. There was nothing for it but a shamefaced
-admission of defeat. I rode back, and the man in grey, first finishing
-the tune he was whistling, laughed at me, pulled my shadow straight
-again, and informed me that it would not stick to me, and be content to
-stay with me, until it was once more my lawful property. “I hold you by
-your shadow,” he added; “and you will not escape me. A rich man like
-you cannot get on without a shadow. You are to be blamed in so far as
-you did not find that out before.”
-
-[Illustration: “OFF I WENT IN A FULL CANTER.”]
-
-  _A. von Chamisso_ (1781-1838).
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-_THE GHOST OF DR. ASCHER._
-
-
-THE night I spent at Goslar something very remarkable occurred.
-Terror seizes me even now as I think back. I am not timid by nature,
-but I have a mortal terror of ghosts. What is fear? Is it a product
-of the understanding or of the soul? About this question I had many
-a discussion with Dr. Saul Ascher in Berlin when we met in the Café
-Royal, where I used to dine. He would have it that we fear a thing
-because our reason recognises therein due cause for terror. While I
-was eating and drinking to my satisfaction he was fond of constantly
-demonstrating the fine qualities of Reason. Toward the end of his
-demonstration he would look at his watch, and he always ended with:
-“Reason is the highest principle!” Reason! When I so much as hear the
-word I see before me Dr. Ascher with his abstract legs, his tight
-waistcoat of transcendental grey, and his harsh bitter-cold face, which
-might have served as a title-vignette to a book on geometry. The man
-was a straight line personified. In his search after the Positive the
-poor man had philosophised all grandeur out of life, all sunbeams,
-all faith, and all flowers, and all that remained to him was a cold,
-positive grave. He cherished a pet aversion for the Apollo of Belvedere
-and for Christianity. He even went so far as to write a pamphlet
-about the latter, proving it to be unreasonable and untenable. Indeed
-he wrote a host of books, in each of which Reason brags of its own
-excellence. The poor Doctor was serious enough about it, and in this
-respect they deserve esteem. But it was just this which was the best
-joke of all--that he would put on so fatuously serious a mien when he
-could not understand what every child understands by very reason of its
-childhood. I called upon this reasonable Doctor in his own house once
-or twice, and I found beautiful women there, for Reason does not forbid
-sensuality. Once when I intended to call upon him his servant said:
-“The Doctor has just died.” It did not impress me any more strongly
-than if he had said: “The Doctor is gone out.”
-
-But to return to Goslar. “The highest principle is Reason!” I said
-consolingly to myself as I got into bed. It did not answer the purpose,
-however. I had just been reading that horrible story in Varnhagen
-von Ense’s _Deutsche Erzählungen_, which I had brought with me from
-Clansthal, how a son, whose father intended to murder him, was warned
-at night by his mother’s ghost. The marvellous effectiveness of the
-story caused me to shiver with horror while reading. Then, too, ghost
-stories excite the most uncanny sensations when read on a journey,
-and especially at night in a town, in a house, in a room where one
-has never been. How many horrible things may have happened upon this
-very spot where I am now lying? One cannot refrain from conjecturing.
-Moreover, the moon shone so doubtfully into the room; all sorts of
-uncalled-for shadows were moving along the wall, and when I raised
-myself in bed to look closer, I saw----
-
-There is nothing more weird than to come unintentionally upon one’s
-own face in a mirror by the light of the moon. At the same moment a
-lumbering sleepy clock began to strike, and, moreover, it struck so
-long and so slowly that after the twelfth stroke I verily believed
-twelve hours had gone by, and it would have to begin over again and
-strike twelve once more. Between the last beat and the last but one,
-another clock struck very rapidly with a rasping shrillness, put out
-of temper perhaps by the dulness of its kinswoman. When at last both
-iron tongues subsided and the silence of death reigned in the house,
-it seemed to me suddenly as if I heard something slur and drag along
-the passage just outside of my door like the unsteady gait of a man.
-At last my door was opened, and slowly the late Dr. Saul Ascher walked
-into my room. A cold chill passed through my bones. I trembled like a
-leaf, and hardly did I dare to look at the ghost. He looked just the
-same as ever--the same transcendental grey waistcoat, the same abstract
-legs, and the same mathematical face; only that the latter was a
-little yellower than I remembered it, and the mouth, which had always
-formed two angles of 22½ degrees, was tightly shut, and the circles of
-his eyes had a longer radius. Wavering and leaning, as had been his
-custom, upon a slender stick, he approached me, and in his usual lazy
-dialect said pleasantly, “Do not be afraid, and don’t believe me to
-be a ghost. It is an illusion of the senses if you imagine you see a
-ghost. What is a ghost? Give me a definition. Deduce the conditions for
-the possibility of a ghost. In what reasonable relation to your reason
-would such a phenomenon be! Reason, I say Reason----”
-
-And now the ghost proceeded to analyse Reason, quoting Kant, Part 2,
-Division 1, Book 2, Proposition 3, “The distinction between phenomena
-and noumena,” constructing the problematic belief in ghosts, piling
-syllogism upon syllogism with the logical conclusion that there is
-positively no such thing as a ghost. All the while the perspiration
-was cold upon my back, my teeth were chattering; in my terror I nodded
-unqualified assent to every sentence in which the spook-doctor had
-proved the absurdity of my fears, and the latter was demonstrating so
-eagerly that in a moment of abstraction, instead of his gold watch he
-pulled a handful of worms out of his vest pocket, and discovering his
-error he replaced them with ridiculous nervous haste. “Reason is the
-highest----” The clock struck one, and the ghost vanished.
-
-  _Heinrich Heine_ (1799-1856).
-
-
-
-
-_TOURISTS AT THE BROCKEN._
-
-
-UPON entering the Brocken-house a somewhat unusual romantic mood came
-over me. After long and lonely wanderings among rocks and hemlocks,
-one seems suddenly transported to a house in the clouds. I found the
-house full of guests; and as it becomes a man of wise foresight, I
-thought of the night and of the discomfort pertaining to a couch of
-straw. With a dying voice I ordered tea, whereupon the Herr host
-was so reasonable as to be convinced that an invalid like me must
-needs have a decent bed.... Having refreshed myself, I climbed up to
-the look-out, and found a diminutive gentleman with two ladies, one
-young, the other elderly. When I was a boy I thought of nothing but
-of wondrous fairy-tales, and every pretty woman with ostrich feathers
-on her head I took to be a fairy-queen. If by good chance the hem of
-her dress was bedraggled, I took her for a water-nymph. Had I looked
-upon the fair one with those boyish eyes, had I seen her then upon the
-Brocken, I should certainly have said to myself, this is the sylph of
-the mountain, and she has just uttered the charm which makes all below
-appear so wondrously beautiful. What relation the very lithe gentleman
-bore to the ladies whom he accompanied I could not ascertain. His was a
-thin peculiar figure. His little head, sparsely covered with grey hair,
-which fell over his low forehead nearly to his pale greenish eyes; his
-clumsy nose far protruding; his mouth and chin timidly drawing back in
-the direction of his ears. This little face seemed to be modelled out
-of a certain kind of delicate, yellowish clay, such as sculptors use
-for their first design; and when his narrow lips were shut tight, a
-thousand little folds, light and semi-circular, covered his cheeks. The
-little man did not say a word, only now and then, when the elder lady
-whispered something kind to him, he would smile like a pug with a cold
-in his head.... While we were speaking it began to grow dusk; the air
-grew chillier, the sun sank lower, and students, travelling journeymen,
-and a couple of honest bourgeois with their wives and daughters,
-crowded upon the platform to see the sunset. It is a marvellous sight,
-tuning the soul to prayer. During a quarter of an hour we all stood
-in solemn silence, and saw the gorgeous globe of fire slowly sink in
-the west; our faces reflected the evening glory, our hands were folded
-involuntarily; it seemed as if we stood a silent congregation in the
-aisle of a cathedral, and the priest was holding up the body of the
-Lord, and from the organ sounded Palestrina’s immortal anthem.
-
-As I stood thus enwrapped in the fervour of devotion, I heard some one
-calling out beside me, “How beautiful is nature on the whole!” These
-words proceeded out of the overflowing breast of my room-mate, the
-young merchant. I was at once landed thereby in my work-day mood, and
-was now able to make a great many brilliant remarks to the ladies about
-the sunset. I escorted them to their room as if nothing had happened.
-I believe we talked about Angora cats, Etruscan vases, Turkish shawls,
-macaroni, and Lord Byron, from whose poems the elder lady recalled
-some sunset passages, which she recited with a pretty lisp and sigh.
-To the younger lady, who did not know English, and expressed a wish
-to read these poems, I recommended some excellent translations. Upon
-this occasion I did not fail to declaim, as it is my custom to do when
-conversing with young ladies, against Byron’s impiety, heartlessness,
-hopelessness, and heaven knows what all.
-
-It was the coffee’s fault that I had forgotten my pretty lady. She was
-standing outside of the door with her mother and companion, preparing
-to get into the carriage. There was but just time for me to step up to
-her briskly and assure her that it was cold. She seemed displeased
-that I had not come sooner; but I smoothed the pettish frown from
-her fair brow by bestowing a wonderful flower upon her, which I had
-picked the day before from a steep precipice at the danger of breaking
-my neck. Her mother demanded the name of the flower, considering it
-improper as it were for her daughter to wear a strange, unknown flower
-upon her bosom. Her taciturn companion unexpectedly opened his mouth,
-counted the stamens of the flower, and dryly remarked that it belonged
-to the eighth class. It aggravates me when I see how God’s dear flowers
-are parcelled off into classes as well as we, and indeed, according to
-a method no less superficial--viz., the difference in the number of
-stamens. If there must be subdivision, it would be well to follow the
-suggestion of Theophrast, who would have flowers classified according
-to their spirit--that is, their fragrance. So far as I am concerned, I
-have my own system in natural science, and according to it I classify
-all things--into those that are good to eat, and those that are not.
-
-  _Heinrich Heine._
-
-
-
-
-_MY APPRECIATIVE FRIEND._
-
-
-HE called my attention to the utility and perfect adaptation of nature.
-The trees are green, it seems, because green is good for one’s eyes.
-I assented, and added that God has created cattle, because broth is
-strengthening to men, and that he has created asses that we might have
-a means of comparison, and that he has created man himself to eat broth
-and be no ass. My companion was enchanted to have found a congenial
-spirit; his countenance beamed happiness, and at parting he seemed
-deeply touched.
-
-  _Heinrich Heine._
-
-
-
-
-“_MADAM, DO YOU KNOW THE OLD PLAY?_”
-
- “She was lovable, and he loved her. But he was not lovable, and she
- did not love him.”--_Old Play._
-
-
-MADAM, do you know the old play? It is quite an extraordinary play,
-only a little too melancholy. I once played the leading part in it
-myself, so that all the ladies wept; only one did not weep, not even a
-single tear, and that was the point of the play, the whole catastrophe.
-
-Oh, that single tear! it still torments my thoughts. When Satan wishes
-to ruin my soul, he hums in my ear a ballad of that unwept tear, a
-deadly song with a more deadly tune. Ah, such a tune is only heard in
-hell!
-
-You can readily form an idea, Madam, of what life is like in heaven,
-the _more_ readily as you are married. There people amuse themselves
-altogether superbly, every sort of entertainment is provided, and one
-lives in mere desire and delight. One eats from morning to night,
-and the cookery is as good as Fagor’s; roast geese fly round with
-gravy-boats in their bills, and feel flattered if any one eats them;
-tarts gleaming with butter grow wild like sunflowers; everywhere there
-are brooks of bouillon and champagne, everywhere trees on which napkins
-flutter, and you eat and wipe your lips and eat again without injury to
-your stomach; you sing psalms or flirt and joke with the dear, delicate
-little angels, or take a walk on the green Hallelujah-meadow; and your
-white flowing garments fit very comfortably; and nothing disturbs
-the feeling of blessedness; no pain, no vexation--even when one
-accidentally treads on another’s corns and exclaims, “_Excusez_,” he
-smiles as if enraptured, and assures, “Thy foot, brother, did not hurt
-in the least; quite _au contraire_--a deeper thrill of heavenly rapture
-shoots through my heart!”
-
-But of hell, Madam, you have no idea. Of all the devils you know
-perhaps only the little Amor, the pretty croupier of hell, Beelzebub,
-and you know him only from Don Juan, and doubtless think that for such
-a betrayer of innocence hell can never be made hot enough, though
-our praiseworthy theatre directors spend upon him as much flame,
-fiery rain, powder, and colophoniam as any Christian could desire in
-hell. But things in hell look much worse than our theatre directors
-know, or they would not bring out so many bad plays. For in hell it
-is infernally hot, and when I was there in the dog-days it was past
-endurance. Madam, you can have no idea of hell! We have very few
-official returns from the place. Still, it is rank calumny to say that
-down there all the poor souls are compelled to read the whole day long
-all the dull sermons that are printed on earth. Bad as hell is, it has
-not come to that; Satan will never invent such refinements of torture.
-On the other hand, Dante’s description is too mild on the whole, too
-poetic. Hell appeared to me like a great kitchen, with an endless long
-stove, on which stood three rows of iron pots, and in these sat the
-damned and were cooked. In one row were placed Christian sinners, and,
-incredible as it may seem, their number was anything but small, and
-the devils poked the fire up under them with especial good-will. In
-the next row were Jews, who continually screamed and cried, and were
-occasionally mocked by the fiends, which sometimes seemed very amusing,
-as, for instance, when a fat, wheezy, old pawnbroker complained of the
-heat, and a little devil poured several buckets of cold water on his
-head, that he might realise what a refreshing benefit baptism was. In
-the third row sat the heathen, who, like the Jews, could take no part
-in salvation, and must burn for ever. I heard one of these, as a burly
-devil put fresh coals under his kettle, cry out from his spot, “Spare
-me! I was Socrates, the wisest of mortals. I taught Truth and Justice,
-and sacrificed my life for Virtue.” But the stupid, burly devil went
-on with his work and grumbled, “Oh, shut up there! All heathens must
-burn, and we cannot make an exception for the sake of a single man.”
-I assure you, Madam, the heat was terrible, with such a screaming,
-sighing, groaning, quacking, grunting, squealing--and through all these
-terrible sounds rang distinctly the deadly tune of the song of the
-unwept tear.
-
- “She was lovable, and he loved her. But he was not lovable, and she
- did not love him.”--_Old Play._
-
-Madam, that old play is a tragedy, though the hero in it is neither
-killed nor commits suicide. The eyes of the heroine are beautiful, very
-beautiful. Madam, do you smell the perfume of violets?--very beautiful,
-and yet so piercing that they struck like poignards of glass through my
-heart, and probably came out through my back, and yet I was not killed
-by those treacherous, murderous eyes. The voice of the heroine was also
-sweet. Madam, did you hear a nightingale just then?--a soft silken
-voice, a sweet web of the sunniest tones, and my soul was entangled
-in it and choked, and tormented itself. I myself--it is the Count of
-Ganges who now speaks, and the story goes on in Venice--I myself soon
-had enough of these tortures, and had thoughts of putting an end to the
-play in the first act, and of shooting myself through the head, fool’s
-cap and all. I went to a fancy shop in the Via Burstah, where I saw a
-pair of beautiful pistols in a case--I remember them perfectly well.
-Near them stood many pleasant playthings of mother-of-pearl and gold,
-steel hearts on gilt chains, porcelain cups with delicate devices,
-and snuff-boxes with pretty pictures, such as the divine history of
-Susanna, the Swan Song of Leda, the Rape of the Sabines, Lucretia,
-a fat, virtuous creature, with naked bosom, in which she was lazily
-sticking a dagger; the late Bethmann, _la belle Ferronière_--all
-enrapturing faces--but I bought the pistols without much ado, and then
-I bought balls, then powder, and then I went to the restaurant of
-Signor Somebody and ordered oysters and a glass of Hock.
-
-I could eat nothing, and still less could I drink. The warm tears fell
-in the glass, and in that glass I saw my dear home, the holy, blue
-Ganges, the ever-gleaming Himalaya, the giant banyan woods, amid whose
-broad arcades calmly wandered wise elephants and white-robed pilgrims;
-strange, dream-like flowers gazed on me with meaning glance, wondrous
-golden birds sang wildly, flashing sun-rays, and the sweet, silly
-chatter of monkeys pleasantly mocked me; from far pagodas sounded the
-pious prayers of priests, and amid all rang the melting, wailing voice
-of the Sultana of Delhi. She ran impetuously around in her carpeted
-chamber, she tore her silver veil, with her peacock fan she struck the
-black slave to the ground, she wept, she raged, she cried. I could
-not, however, hear what she said; the restaurant of Signor Somebody
-is three thousand miles distant from the harem of Delhi, besides the
-fair sultana had been dead three thousand years, and I quickly drank up
-the wine, the clear, joy-giving wine, and yet my soul grew darker and
-sadder--I was condemned to death.
-
-As I left the restaurant I heard the “bell of poor sinners” ring, a
-crowd of people swept by me; but I placed myself at the corner of the
-Strada San Giovanni, and recited the following monologue:--
-
-    In ancient tales they tell of golden castles,
-    Where harps are sounding, lovely ladies dance,
-    And gay attendants gleam, and jessamine,
-    Myrtle, and roses spread their soft perfume--
-    And yet a single word of sad enchantment
-    Sweeps all the glory of the scene to naught,
-    And there remain but ruins old and grey,
-    And screaming birds of night and foul morass.
-    Even so have I, with but a single word,
-    Enchanted Nature’s blooming loveliness.
-    There lies she now, lifeless, cold, and pale,
-    Just like a monarch’s corse laid out in state,
-    The royal deathly cheeks fresh stained with rouge,
-    And in his hand the kingly sceptre laid,
-    Yet still his lips are yellow, and most changed,
-    For they forgot to dye them, as they should,
-    And mice are jumping o’er the monarch’s nose,
-    And mock the golden sceptre in his grasp.
-
-It is everywhere agreed, Madam, that one should deliver a soliloquy
-before shooting himself. Most men on such occasions use Hamlet’s “To
-be, or not to be.” It is an excellent passage, and I would gladly have
-quoted it--but charity begins at home, and when a man has written
-tragedies himself, in which such farewell-to-life speeches occur as,
-for instance, in my immortal _Almansor_, it is very natural that one
-should prefer his own words even to Shakespeare’s. At any rate, the
-delivery of such speeches is a very useful custom; one gains at least a
-little time. And so it came to pass that I remained a rather long time
-standing at the corner Strada San Giovanni--and as I stood there like a
-condemned criminal awaiting death, I raised my eyes and suddenly beheld
-her. She wore her blue silk dress and rose-red hat, and her eyes looked
-at me so mildly, so death-conqueringly, so life-givingly--Madam, you
-well know, out of Roman history, that when the vestals in ancient Rome
-met on their way a malefactor led to death they had the right to pardon
-him, and the poor rogue lived. With a single glance she saved me from
-death, and I stood before her revived, and dazzled by the sunbeams of
-her beauty, and she passed on--and left me alive.
-
-And she left me alive, and I live, which is the main point.
-
-Others may, if they choose, enjoy the good fortune of having their
-lady-love adorn their grave with garlands, and water them with the
-tears of fidelity. Oh, women! hate me, laugh at me, jilt me, but let me
-live! Life is all too laughably sweet, and the world too delightfully
-bewildered; it is the dream of an intoxicated god, who has taken French
-leave of the carousing multitude of immortals, and has laid himself
-down to sleep in a solitary star, and knows not himself that he created
-all that he dreams--and the dream-images form themselves in such a
-mad, variegated fashion, and often so harmoniously reasonable--the
-Iliad, Plato, the battle of Marathon, Moses, Medician Venus, Strasburg
-Cathedral, the French Revolution, Hegel, the steamboat, etc., etc., are
-single good thoughts in this divine dream--but it will not last long,
-and the god awakes, and rubs his sleepy eyes, and smiles--and our world
-has run to nothing--yes, has never been.
-
-No matter! I live. If I am but a shadowy image in a dream, still this
-is better than the cold, black, void, annihilation of Death. Life is
-the greatest good, and death the worst evil. Berlin lieutenants of the
-guard may sneer and call it cowardice because the Prince of Homburg
-shudders when he beholds his open grave. Henry Kleist had, however,
-as much courage as his high-breasted, tightly-laced colleagues, and
-has, alas! proved it. But all strong men love life. Goethe’s Egmont
-does not part willingly from the “cheerful wont of being and working.”
-Immermann’s Edwin clings to life “like a little child to his mother’s
-breast,” and though he finds it hard to live by stranger mercy, he
-still begs for mercy: “For life and breath is still the highest.”
-
-When Odysseus in the under-world sees Achilles as the leader of dead
-heroes, and extols his renown among the living, and his glory even
-among the dead, Achilles answers--
-
-    “No more discourse of death consolingly, noble Odysseus!
-    Rather would I in the field as daily labourer be toiling,
-    Slave to the meanest of men, a pauper and lacking possessions,
-    Than ’mid the infinite host of long-vanished mortals be ruler.”
-
-Yes, when Major Duvent challenged the great Israel Lyon to fight with
-pistols, and said to him, “If you do not meet me, Mr. Lyon, you are a
-dog;” the latter replied, “I would rather be a live dog than a dead
-lion!” and he was right. I have fought often enough, Madam, to dare
-to say this, God be praised! I live! Red life pulses in my veins;
-earth yields beneath my feet; in the glow of love I embrace trees and
-statues, and they live in my embrace. Every woman is to me the gift of
-a world. I revel in the melody of her countenance, and with a single
-glance of my eye I can enjoy more than others with their every limb
-through all their lives. Every instant is to me an eternity. I do not
-measure time with the ell of Brabant or of Hamburg, and I need no
-priest to promise me a second life, for I can live enough in this life,
-when I live backwards in the life of those who have gone before me, and
-win myself an eternity in the realm of the past.
-
-And I live! The great pulsation of nature beats too in my breast;
-and when I carol aloud I am answered by a thousandfold echo. I hear
-a thousand nightingales. Spring has sent them to awaken earth from
-her morning slumber, and earth trembles with ecstasy. Her flowers are
-hymns, which she sings in inspiration to the sun. The sun moves far too
-slowly. I would fain lash on his steeds that they might advance more
-rapidly. But when he sinks hissing in the sea, and the night rises with
-her passionate eyes, oh! then true pleasure first thrills through me,
-the evening breezes lie like flattering maidens on my wild heart, and
-the stars wink to me, and I rise and sweep over the little earth and
-the little thoughts of men.
-
-Madam, I have deceived you. I am not the Count of the Ganges. Never in
-my life have I seen the holy stream, nor the lotus-flowers which are
-mirrored in its sacred waves. Never did I lie dreaming under Indian
-palms, nor in prayer before the Diamond Deity Juggernaut, who with his
-diamonds might have easily aided me out of my difficulties. I have no
-more been in Calcutta than the turkey, of which I ate yesterday at
-dinner, had ever been in the realms of the Grand Turk. Yet my ancestors
-came from Hindustan, and therefore I feel so much at my ease in the
-great forest of song of Valmiki. The heroic sorrows of the divine Ramo
-move my heart like familiar griefs; from the flower lays of Kalidasa
-the sweetest memories bloom; and when a few years ago a gentle lady in
-Berlin showed me the beautiful pictures which her father, who had been
-Governor in India, had brought from thence, the delicately-painted,
-holy, calm faces seemed as familiar to me as though I were gazing at my
-own family gallery.
-
-Franz Bopp, Madam--you have of course read his _Nalus_ and his system
-of Sanscrit Conjugations--gave me much information relative to my
-ancestry, and I now know with certainty that I am descended from
-Brahma’s head, and not from his corns. I have also good reason to
-believe that the entire Mahabarata, with its two hundred thousand
-verses, is merely an allegorical love-letter which my first fore-father
-wrote to my first fore-mother. Oh, they loved dearly; their souls
-kissed, they kissed with their eyes; they were both but one single kiss.
-
-An enchanted nightingale sits on a red coral bough in the silent sea,
-and sings a song of the love of my ancestors; the pearls gaze eagerly
-from their shells, the wonderful water-flowers tremble with sorrow,
-the cunning sea-snails, bearing on their backs many-coloured porcelain
-towers, come creeping onwards, the ocean roses blush with shame, the
-yellow, sharp-pointed starfish and the thousand-hued glassy jelly-fish
-quiver and stretch, and all swarm and listen.
-
-Unfortunately, Madam, this nightingale song is far too long to be set
-down here; it is as long as the world itself. Even its dedication to
-Anangas, the God of Love, is as long as all Scott’s novels; and there
-is a passage referring to it in Aristophanes, which in German reads
-thus--
-
-    “Tiotio, tiotio, tiotinx,
-    Totototo, totototo, tototinx.”
-
-[Illustration: “SIT THE GOOD TOWNSPEOPLE OF A SUMMER EVENING.”]
-
-No, I was not born in India. I first beheld the light of the world on
-the shore of that beautiful stream on whose green hills folly grows and
-is plucked in autumn, laid away in cellars, poured into barrels, and
-exported to foreign lands. In fact, only yesterday I heard some one
-speaking a piece of folly, which in the year 1811 was imprisoned in a
-bunch of grapes which I myself then saw growing on the Johannisberg.
-But much folly is also consumed at home, and men are the same there as
-everywhere; they are born, eat, drink, sleep, laugh, cry, slander each
-other, are greatly troubled about the propagation of their race, try to
-seem what they are not, and to do what they cannot; never shave until
-they have a beard, and often have beards before they get discretion;
-and when they have at last discretion, they drink it away in white and
-red folly.
-
-_Mon dieu!_ If I had faith, so that I could remove mountains--the
-Johannisberg would be just the mountain which I would carry with me
-everywhere. But as my faith is not strong enough, imagination must aid
-me, and she quickly sets me by the beautiful Rhine.
-
-Oh, that is a fair land, full of loveliness and sunshine. In the
-blue stream are mirrored the mountain shores, with their ruined
-towers and woods and ancient towns. There, before the house-door,
-sit the good townspeople of a summer evening, and drink out of great
-cans, and gossip confidentially about how the wine--the Lord be
-praised!--thrives, and how justice should be free from all secrecy, and
-how Marie Antoinette’s being guillotined is none of our business, and
-how dear the tobacco tax makes tobacco, and how all mankind are equal,
-and what a glorious fellow Goerres is.
-
-I have never troubled myself about such conversation, and sat rather
-with the maidens in the arched window, and laughed at their laughter,
-and let them throw flowers in my face, and pretended to be ill-natured
-until they told me their secrets, or some other important stories.
-Fair Gertrude was half wild with delight when I sat by her. She was a
-girl like a flaming rose; and once, as she fell on my neck, I thought
-that she would burn away into perfume in my arms. Fair Katharine
-flamed into sweet music when she talked with me; and her eyes were of
-a pure, internal blue, which I have never seen in men or animals, and
-very seldom in flowers; one gazed so gladly into them, and could then
-think such sweet things. But the beautiful Hedwig loved me, for when
-I came to her she bowed her head till her black curls fell down over
-her blushing face, and her bright eyes shone like stars from the dark
-heaven. Her bashful lips spoke not a word, and I too could say nothing
-to her. I coughed, and she trembled. She often begged me through her
-sisters not to climb the rocks so rashly, and not to bathe in the
-Rhine when I was hot with running or drinking wine. Once I overheard
-her pious prayer before the Virgin Mary, which she had adorned with
-gold leaf and illuminated with a lamp, and which stood in a corner at
-the entrance. I plainly heard her pray to the Mother of God to keep
-him from climbing, drinking, and bathing. I should certainly have been
-desperately in love with her if she had been indifferent to me; and I
-was indifferent to her, because I knew that she loved me. Madam, to win
-my love, I must be treated _en canaille_.
-
-Johanna was the cousin of the three sisters, and I was glad to be with
-her. She knew the most beautiful old legends, and when she pointed
-with her white hand through the window out to the mountains where all
-had happened which she narrated, I became enchanted; the old knights
-rose visibly from the ruined castles, and hewed away at each other’s
-iron clothes, the Loreley sat again on the mountain summit, singing
-adown her sweet, seductive song, and the Rhine rippled so reasonably
-soothing--and yet so mockingly horrible--and the fair Johanna looked
-at me so strangely, with such enigmatic tenderness, that she seemed
-herself one with the legend that she told. She was a slender, pale
-girl, sickly and musing; her eyes were clear as truth itself; her lips
-piously arched; in her face lay a great story. Was it a love legend? I
-know not, and I never had the courage to ask. When I looked at her long
-I grew calm and cheerful; it seemed to me as though it was Sunday in my
-heart, and the angels held service there.
-
-In such happy hours I told her tales of my childhood, and she listened
-earnestly, and strangely, when I could not think of the names, she
-remembered them. When I then asked her with wonder how she knew the
-names, she would answer with a smile that she had learned it of the
-birds that had built a nest on the sill of her window; and she tried to
-make me believe that these were the same birds which I once bought with
-my pocket-money from a hard-hearted peasant-boy, and then let fly away.
-But I believed that she knew everything, because she was so pale, and
-really soon died. She knew, too, when she would die, and wished that I
-would leave Adernach the day before. When I bade her farewell she gave
-me both her hands; they were white, sweet hands, and pure as the frost;
-and she said, “You are very good, and when you are not, think of the
-little dead Veronica.”
-
-Did the chattering birds also tell her this name? Often in hours of
-remembrance I had wearied my brain in trying to think of that dear
-name, but could not.
-
-And now that I have it again, my earliest infancy shall bloom into
-memory again, and I am again a child, and play with other children in
-the Castle Court at Düsseldorf, on the Rhine.
-
-Yes, Madam, there was I born, and I am particular in calling
-attention to the fact, lest after my death seven cities--those
-of Schilda, Krähwinkel, Polkwitz, Bockum, Dülken, Göttingen, and
-Schöppenstadt[2]--should contend for the honour of being my birthplace.
-Düsseldorf is a town on the Rhine, sixteen thousand people live there,
-and many hundred thousands besides are buried there; and among them
-are many of whom my mother says it were better if they were still
-alive--for example, my grandfather and my uncle, the old Herr von
-Geldern and the young Herr von Geldern, who were both such celebrated
-doctors, and saved the life of so many men, and yet must both die
-themselves. And pious Ursula, who carried me as a child in her arms,
-also lies buried there, and a rosebush grows over her grave; she loved
-rose-perfume so much in her life, and her earth was all rose-perfume
-and goodness. And the shrewd old Canonicus also lies there buried.
-Lord, how miserable he looked when I last saw him! He consisted of
-nothing but soul and plasters, and yet he studied night and day as
-though he feared lest the warmth might find a few ideas missing in his
-head. Little William also lies there--and that is my fault. We were
-schoolmates in the Franciscan cloister, and were one day playing on
-that side of the building where the Düssel flows between stone walls,
-and I said, “William, do get the kitten out, which has just fallen in!”
-and he cheerfully climbed out on the board which stretched over the
-brook, and pulled the cat out of the water, but fell in himself, and
-when they took him out he was cold and dead. The kitten lived to a good
-old age.
-
-The town of Düsseldorf is very beautiful, and if you think of it when
-in foreign lands, and happen at the same time to have been born there,
-strange feelings come over the soul. I was born there, and feel as if I
-must go directly home. And when I say home, I mean the Volkerstrasse,
-and the house where I was born. This house will be some day very
-remarkable, and I have sent word to the old lady who owns it that
-she must not for her life sell it. For the whole house she would now
-hardly get as much as the present which the green-veiled, distinguished
-English ladies will give the servant when she shows them the room where
-I was born, and the hen-house wherein my father generally imprisoned me
-for stealing grapes, and also the brown door on which my mother taught
-me to write with chalk. Ah me! should I ever become a famous author, it
-has cost my poor mother trouble enough.
-
-But my fame still slumbers in the marble quarries of Carrara; the
-waste-paper laurel with which they have bedecked my brow has not yet
-spread its perfume through the wide world, and when the green-veiled,
-distinguished English ladies visit Düsseldorf, they leave the
-celebrated house unvisited, and go direct to the Market Place, and
-there gaze on the colossal black equestrian statue which stands in its
-midst. This represents the Prince-Elector, Jan Wilhelm. He wears black
-armour and a long hanging wig. When a boy I was told that the artist
-who made this statue observed with terror while it was being cast that
-he had not metal enough, and then all the citizens of the town came
-running with all their silver spoons, and threw them in to fill the
-mould; and I often stood for hours before the statue puzzling my head
-as to how many spoons were sticking in it, and how many apple-tarts
-all that silver would buy. Apple-tarts were then my passion--now it is
-love, truth, freedom, and crab-soup--and not far from the statue of
-the Prince-Elector, at the theatre corner, generally stood a curiously
-constructed sabre-legged rascal, with a white apron and a basket
-girt around him full of smoking apple-tarts, which he knew how to
-praise with an irresistible treble voice. “Apple-tarts! quite fresh,
-so delicious!” Truly, whenever in my later years the Evil One sought
-to win me, he always cried in such an enticing treble, and I should
-certainly have never remained twelve hours by the Signora Guilietta
-if she had not thrilled me with her sweet, fragrant, apple-tart
-tones. And, in fact, the apple-tarts would never have so enticed me
-if the crooked Hermann had not covered them up so mysteriously with
-his white apron; and it is aprons, you know, which--but I wander from
-the subject. I was speaking of the equestrian statue which has so
-many silver spoons in its body and no soup, and which represents the
-Prince-Elector, Jan Wilhelm.
-
-He must have been a brave gentleman, very fond of art, and skilful
-himself. He founded the picture-gallery in Düsseldorf, and in the
-observatory there they show a very artistic piece of woodwork which he
-himself had carved in his leisure hours, of which latter he had every
-day four-and-twenty.
-
-In those days princes were not the persecuted wretches which they now
-are; the crown grew firmly on their heads, and at night they drew their
-night-caps over it and slept peacefully, and their people slumbered
-peacefully at their feet; and when they awoke in the morning they said,
-“Good morning, father!” and he replied, “Good morning, dear children!”
-
-But there came a sudden change over all this. One morning when we
-awoke in Düsseldorf and would say, “Good morning, father,” the father
-had travelled away, and in the whole town there was nothing but dumb
-sorrow. Everywhere there was a funeral-like expression, and people
-slipped silently to the market and read the long paper on the door of
-the Town Hall. It was bad weather, yet the lean tailor Kilian stood in
-his nankeen jacket, which he generally wore only at home, and his blue
-woollen stockings hung down so that his little bare legs peeped out in
-a troubled way, and his thin lips quivered as he murmured the placard.
-An old invalid soldier from the Palatine read it rather louder, and at
-some words a clear tear ran down his white, honourable old moustache.
-I stood near him, crying too, and asked why we were crying. And he
-replied, “The Prince-Elector has abdicated.” And then he read further,
-and at the words, “for the long manifested fidelity of my subjects,”
-“and hereby release you from allegiance,” he wept still more. It
-is a strange sight to see, when an old man, in faded uniform and
-scarred veteran’s face, suddenly bursts into tears. While we read the
-Prince-Electoral coat-of-arms was being taken down from the Town Hall,
-and everything began to appear as anxiously dreary as though we were
-waiting for an eclipse of the sun. The town councillors went about at
-an abdicating, wearisome gait; even the omnipotent beadle looked as
-though he had no more commands to give, and stood calmly indifferent,
-although the crazy Aloysius stood upon one leg and chattered the names
-of French generals with foolish grimaces, while the tipsy, crooked
-Gumpertz rolled around in the gutter singing _ça ira! ça ira!_
-
-But I went home crying and lamenting, “The Prince-Elector has
-abdicated.” My mother might do what she would, I knew what I knew,
-and went crying to bed, and in the night dreamed that the world had
-come to an end--the fair flower-gardens and green meadows of the world
-were taken up and rolled away like carpets from the floor; the beadle
-climbed up on a high ladder and took down the sun, and the tailor
-Kilian stood by and said to himself, “I must go home and dress myself
-neatly, for I am dead, and am to be buried this afternoon.” And it grew
-darker and darker--a few stars glimmered on high, and even these fell
-down like yellow leaves in autumn; men gradually vanished, and I, poor
-child, wandered in anguish around, until before the willow fence of a
-deserted farmhouse I saw a man digging up the earth with a spade, and
-near him an ugly, spiteful-looking woman, who held something in her
-apron like a human head, but it was the moon, and she laid it carefully
-in the open grave; and behind me stood the Palatine soldier sobbing and
-spelling, “The Prince-Elector has abdicated.”
-
-When I awoke, the sun shone as usual through the window; there was a
-sound of drums in the street; and as I entered our sitting-room and
-wished my father, who sat in his white dressing-gown, good morning, I
-heard the little light-footed barber, as he made up his hair, narrate
-very minutely that homage would that morning be offered at the Town
-Hall to the Archduke Joachim. I heard too that the new ruler was
-of excellent family, that he had married the sister of the Emperor
-Napoleon, and was really a very respectable man; that he wore his
-beautiful black hair in curls; that he would shortly enter the town,
-and would certainly please all the ladies. Meanwhile the drumming in
-the streets continued, and I stood before the house-door and looked
-at the French troops marching--those joyous and famous people who
-swept over the world--singing and playing, the merry, serious faces
-of the Grenadiers, the bear-skin shakoes, the tri-coloured cockades,
-the glittering bayonets, the _voltigeurs_ full of vivacity and _point
-d’honneur_, and the giant-like, silver-laced tambour major, who cast
-his _baton_ with the gilded head as high as the first storey, and his
-eyes to the second, where pretty girls gazed from the windows. I was
-so glad that soldiers were to be quartered in our house--my mother was
-not glad--and I hastened to the Market Place. There everything looked
-changed; it was as though the world had been new whitewashed. A new
-coat-of-arms was placed on the Town Hall; its iron balconies were hung
-with embroidered velvet drapery, French Grenadiers stood as sentinels,
-the old town councillors had put on new faces and Sunday coats, and
-looked at each other French fashion, and said, “_Bon jour!_” Ladies
-peeped from every window, inquisitive citizens and soldiers filled the
-square, and I, with other boys, climbed on the shining Prince-Elector’s
-great bronze horse, and looked down on the motley crowd.
-
-Neighbour Peter and Long Conrad nearly broke their necks on this
-occasion, and that would have been well, for the one afterwards ran
-away from his parents, enlisted as a soldier, deserted, and was finally
-shot in Mayence; while the other, having made geographical researches
-in strange pockets, became a working member of a public tread-mill
-institute. But having broken the iron bands which bound him to his
-fatherland, he passed safely beyond sea, and eventually died in London,
-in consequence of wearing a much too long cravat, one end of which
-happened to be firmly attached to something just as a royal official
-removed a plank from beneath his feet.
-
-Long Conrad told us that there was no school to-day on account of the
-homage. We had to wait a long time till this was over. At last the
-balcony of the Council House was filled with gay gentlemen, flags and
-trumpets; and our burgomaster, in his celebrated red coat, delivered
-an oration, which stretched out like india-rubber, or like a night-cap
-into which one has thrown a stone--only that it was not the stone of
-wisdom--and I could distinctly understand many of his phrases; for
-instance, that “We are now to be made happy”--and at the last words
-the trumpets and drums sounded, and the flags waved, and the people
-cried hurrah!--and as I, myself, cried hurrah! I held fast to the old
-Prince-Elector. And that was necessary, for I began to grow giddy; it
-seemed to me that the people were standing on their heads while the
-world whizzed round, and the Prince-Elector, with his long wig, nodded
-and whispered, “Hold fast to me!” and not till the cannon re-echoed
-along the wall did I become sobered, and climbed slowly down from the
-great bronze horse.
-
-As I went home I saw crazy Aloysius again dancing on one leg while
-he chattered the names of French generals, and crooked Gumpertz was
-rolling in the gutter drunk and growling _ça ira, ça ira_--and I said
-to my mother that we were all to be made happy, and so there was no
-school to-day.
-
-The next day the world was again all in order, and we had school as
-before, and things were got by heart as before--the Roman kings,
-chronology--the _nomina_ in _im_, the _verba irregularia_--Greek,
-Hebrew, geography, German, mental arithmetic--Lord! my head is still
-giddy with it!--all must be learnt by heart. And much of it was
-eventually to my advantage. For had I not learnt the Roman kings by
-heart it would subsequently have been a matter of perfect indifference
-to me whether Niebuhr had or had not proved that they never really
-existed. And had I not learnt chronology how could I ever in later
-years have found out any one in Berlin, where one house is as like
-another as drops of water, or as grenadiers, and where it is impossible
-to find a friend unless you have the number of his house in your head.
-Therefore I associated with every friend some historical event which
-had happened in a year corresponding to the number of his house, so
-that the one recalled the other, and some curious point in history
-always occurred to me whenever I met an acquaintance. For instance,
-when I met my tailor I at once thought of the battle of Marathon; if
-I saw the well-dressed banker, Christian Gumpel, I remembered the
-destruction of Jerusalem; if a Portuguese friend, deeply in debt, of
-the flight of Mahomet; if the University Judge, a man whose probity
-is well known, of the death of Haman; and if Wadzeek, I was at once
-reminded of Cleopatra. _Ach, lieber Himmel!_ the poor creature is
-dead now; our tears are dry, and we may say of her with Hamlet, “Take
-her for all in all; she was a hag--we oft shall look upon her like
-again!” As I said, chronology is necessary. I know men who have nothing
-in their heads but a few years, yet who knew exactly where to look
-for the right houses, and are, moreover, regular professors. But oh!
-the trouble I had at school with dates!--and it went even worse with
-arithmetic. I understood _subtraction_ best, and for this I had a very
-practical rule--“Four from three won’t go, I must borrow one;” but I
-advise every one, in such a case, to borrow a few extra shillings, for
-one never knows.
-
-But as for the Latin, Madam, you can really have no idea how muddled
-it is. The Romans would never have found time to conquer the world
-if they had been obliged first to learn Latin. Those happy people
-knew in their cradles the nouns with an accusative in _im_. I, on
-the contrary, had to learn them by heart in the sweat of my brow;
-but still it is well that I knew them. For if, for example, when I
-publicly disputed in Latin, in the College Hall of Göttingen, on the
-20th of July 1825--Madam, it was well worth while to hear it--if, I
-say, I had said _sinapen_ instead of _sinapim_, the blunder would
-have been evident to the Freshmen, and an endless shame for me.
-_Vis buris_, _sitis_, _tussis_, _cuiumis_, _amussis_, _cannabis_,
-_sinapis_--these words, which have attracted so much attention in the
-world, effected this, because they belonged to a determined class,
-and yet were exceptions; on that account I value them highly, and the
-fact that I have them ready at my finger’s ends when I perhaps need
-them in a hurry affords me in many dark hours of life much internal
-tranquillity and consolation. But, Madam, the _verba irregularia_--they
-are distinguished from the _verbis regularibus_ by the fact that in
-learning them one gets more whippings--are terribly difficult. In the
-damp arches of the Franciscan cloister, near our schoolroom, there hung
-a large crucified Christ of grey wood, a dismal image, that even yet
-at times marches through my dreams, and gazes sorrowfully on me with
-fixed, bleeding eyes--before this image I often stood and prayed, “Oh,
-thou poor and equally tormented God, if it be possible for Thee, see
-that I get by heart the irregular verbs!”
-
-I will say nothing of Greek; I should irritate myself too much. The
-monks of the Middle Ages were not so very much in the wrong when they
-asserted that Greek was an invention of the devil. Lord knows what I
-suffered through it. It went better with Hebrew, for I always had a
-great predilection for the Jews, although they to this very hour have
-crucified my good name; but I never could get so far in Hebrew as my
-watch, which had an intimate intercourse with pawnbrokers, and in
-consequence acquired many Jewish habits--for instance, it would not
-go on Saturday--and learned the holy language, and was subsequently
-occupied with its grammar, for often when sleepless in the night I
-have to my amazement heard it industriously repeating--_Katal, katalta,
-katalki; kittel, kittalta, kittalki; pokat, pokadeti; pikat, pik, pik_.
-
-[Illustration: “MY SCHOOLFELLOWS FOUGHT WITH ESPECIAL VIGOUR.”]
-
-Meanwhile I learned much more German, and that is not such
-child’s-play. For we poor Germans, who have already been sufficiently
-plagued with soldiers quartered on us, military duties, poll-taxes, and
-a thousand other exactions, must needs over and above all this torment
-each other with accusatives and datives. I learned much German from the
-old Rector Schallmeyer, a brave clerical gentleman, whose _protégé_
-I was from childhood. Something of the matter I also learned from
-Professor Schram, a man who had written a book on Eternal Peace, and in
-whose class my schoolfellows fought with especial vigour.
-
-And while thus dashing on in a breath, and thinking of everything, I
-have unexpectedly found myself back among old school stories, and I
-avail myself of this opportunity to show you, Madam, that it was not my
-fault if I learned so little geography that later in life I could not
-make my way in the world. For in those days the French had deranged all
-boundaries; every day countries were re-coloured--those which were once
-blue suddenly became green, many even blood-red; the old established
-rules were so confused and confounded that no devil would recognise
-them. The products of the country also changed--chickory and beets
-now grew where only hares and hunters running after them were once to
-be seen; even the characters of different races changed--the Germans
-became pliant, the French paid compliments no longer, the English
-ceased making ducks and drakes of their money, and the Venetians
-were not subtle enough; there was promotion among princes, old kings
-obtained new uniforms, new kingdoms were cooked up and sold like hot
-cakes; many potentates, on the other hand, were chased from house and
-home, and had to find some new way of earning their bread, while others
-went at once at a trade, and manufactured, for instance, sealing-wax,
-or--Madam, this sentence must be brought to an end, or I shall be out
-of breath--in short, it is impossible in such times to advance far in
-geography.
-
-I succeeded better in natural history, for there we find fewer changes,
-and we always have standard engravings of apes, kangaroos, zebras,
-rhinoceroses, etc. And having many such pictures in my memory, it
-often happens that at first sight many mortals appear to me like old
-acquaintances.
-
-I did well in mythology; I took real delight in the mob of gods and
-goddesses who ruled the world in joyous nakedness. I do not believe
-that there was a schoolboy in ancient Rome who knew the chief articles
-of his catechism--that is, the loves of Venus--better than I. To tell
-the truth, it seems to me that if we must learn all the heathen gods by
-heart, we might as well have kept them from the first, and we have not
-perhaps made so much out of our new Roman Trinity, or even our Jewish
-monotheism. Perhaps that mythology was not in reality so immoral as we
-imagine, and it was, for example, a very decent thought of Homer’s to
-give the much-loved Venus a husband.
-
-But I succeeded best of all in the French class of the Abbé d’Aulnoi, a
-French _émigré_, who had written a number of grammars, and wore a red
-wig, and jumped about very nervously when he recited his _Art poetique_
-and his _Histoire Allemande_. He was the only man in the whole
-gymnasium who taught German history. Still French has its difficulties,
-and to learn it there must be much quartering of troops, much drumming
-in, much _apprendre par cœur_, and above all, no one should be a _bête
-allemande_. Thus many bitter words came in. I remember still, as though
-it happened yesterday, the scrapes I got into through _la religion_.
-Six times came the question: “Henri, what is the French for ‘the
-faith’?” And six times, ever more tearfully, I replied: “It is called
-_le crédit_.” And at the seventh question, with a deep cherry-red face,
-my furious examiner cried, “It is called _la religion_,” and there
-was a rain of blows, and all my schoolfellows laughed. Madam, since
-that day I can never hear the word _religion_ but my back turns pale
-with terror, and my cheeks red with shame. And to speak truly, _le
-crédit_ has during my life stood me in better stead than _la religion_.
-It occurs to me at this moment that I still owe the landlord of the
-“Lion,” in Bologna, five thalers; and I pledge you my word of honour
-that I would give him five thalers more if I could only be certain that
-I should never again hear that unlucky word _la religion_.
-
-_Parbleu_, Madam, I have succeeded well in French. I understand not
-only _patois_, but even aristocratic nurse-maid French. Not long ago,
-when in noble society, I understood full one-half of the conversation
-of two German Countesses, each of whom could count at least sixty-four
-years, and as many ancestors. Yes, in the Café Royal, at Berlin, I
-once heard Monsieur Hans Michel Martens talking French, and understood
-every word, though there was no understanding in it. We must know the
-spirit of a language, and this is best learned by drumming. _Parbleu!_
-how much do I not owe to the French drummer who was so long quartered
-in our house, who looked like a devil, and yet had the heart of an
-angel, and who drummed so excellently?
-
-He was a little nervous figure, with a terrible black moustache,
-beneath which the red lips turned suddenly outwards, while his fiery
-eyes glanced around.
-
-I, a youngster, stuck to him like a cur, and helped him to rub his
-military buttons like mirrors, and to pipe-clay his vest, for Monsieur
-Le Grand liked to look well; and I followed him to the watch, to the
-roll-call, to the parade. In those times there was nothing but the
-gleam of weapons and merriment--_les jours de fête sont passés!_
-Monsieur Le Grand knew only a little broken German, only the chief
-expressions--“Bread,” “kiss,” “honour,” but he could make himself very
-intelligible with his drum. For instance, if I did not know what the
-word _liberté_ meant, he drummed the _Marseillaise_, and I understood
-him. If I did not understand the word _egalité_, he drummed the
-march, “_Ça ira ... les aristocrats a la lanterne!_” and I understood
-him. If I did not know what _bêtise_ meant, he drummed the Dessauer
-March, which we Germans, as Goethe also declares, have drummed in
-champagne--and I understood him. He once wanted to explain to me the
-word _l’Allemagne_, and he drummed the all too simple primeval melody,
-which on market days is played to dancing dogs--namely, _Dum-dum-dum_.
-I was vexed, but I understood him.
-
-In the same way he taught me modern history. I did not understand
-the words, it is true; but as he constantly drummed while speaking,
-I knew what he meant. At bottom this is the best method. The history
-of the storming of the Bastille, of the Tuilleries, and the like,
-we understand first when we know how the drumming was done. In our
-school compendiums of history we merely read: “Their excellencies the
-Baron and Count, with the most noble spouses of the aforesaid, were
-beheaded. Their highnesses the Dukes and Princes, with the most noble
-spouses of the aforesaid, were beheaded. His Majesty the King, with
-his most sublime spouse, the Queen, was beheaded.” But when you hear
-the red guillotine march drummed, you understand it correctly for the
-first time, and you know the how and the why. Madam, that is indeed
-a wonderful march! It thrilled through marrow and bone when I first
-heard it, and I was glad that I forgot it. One forgets so much as one
-grows older, and a young man has nowadays so much other knowledge to
-keep in his head--whist, Boston, genealogical tables, parliamentary
-data, dramaturgy, the liturgy, carving--and yet notwithstanding all
-jogging up of my brain, I could not for a long time recall that
-tremendous tune! But only think, Madam, not long ago I sat at table
-with a whole menagerie of counts, princes, princesses, chamberlains,
-court marshalesses, seneschals, upper court mistresses, court keepers
-of the royal plate, court hunters’ wives, and whatever else these
-aristocratic domestics are termed, and their under domestics ran about
-behind their chairs and shoved full plates before their mouths; but
-I, who was passed by and neglected, sat without the least occupation
-for my jaws, and I kneaded little bread-balls, and drummed for _ennui_
-with my fingers, and to my astonishment I suddenly drummed the red,
-long-forgotten guillotine march!
-
-“And what happened?” Madam, the good people were not disturbed in their
-eating, nor did they know that other people, when they have nothing to
-eat, suddenly begin to drum, and that, too, very queer marches, which
-people thought long forgotten.
-
-Is drumming, now, an inborn talent, or was it early developed in
-me? Enough--it lies in my limbs, in my hands, in my feet, and
-often manifests itself involuntarily. I once sat at Berlin in the
-lecture-room of the Privy Councillor Schmaltz, a man who had saved the
-State by his book on the _Red and Black Coat Danger_. You remember,
-perhaps, Madam, out of Pausanias, that by the braying of an ass
-an equally dangerous plot was once discovered; and you also know
-from Livy, or from Becker’s _History of the World_, that geese once
-saved the capital; and you must certainly know from Sallust that a
-loquacious _putain_, the Lady Livia, brought the terrible conspiracy of
-Cataline to light. But to return to the mutton aforesaid. I listened
-to international law in the lecture-room of the Herr Privy Councillor
-Schmaltz, and it was a sleepy summer afternoon, and I sat on the bench
-and heard less and less--my head had gone to sleep, when all at once I
-was wakened by the noise of my own feet, which had stayed awake, and
-had probably observed that the exact opposite of international law and
-constitutional tendencies was being preached; and my feet, which, with
-the little eyes of their corns, had seen more of how things go in the
-world than the Privy Councillor with his Juno eyes--these poor dumb
-feet, incapable of expressing their immeasurable meaning by words,
-strove to make themselves intelligible by drumming, and they drummed so
-loudly that I thereby nearly came to grief.
-
-Cursed, unreflecting feet! They once played me a similar trick, when I
-on a time, in Göttingen, sponged without subscribing on the lectures
-of Professor Saalfeld; and as, with an angular activity, he jumped
-about here and there in his pulpit, and heated himself in order to
-curse the Emperor Napoleon in regular set style,--no, my poor feet, I
-cannot blame you for drumming then; indeed, I would not have blamed you
-if in your dumb _naïveté_ you had expressed yourselves by still more
-energetic movements. How could I, the scholar of Le Grand, hear the
-Emperor cursed? The Emperor, the Emperor, the great Emperor!
-
-The Emperor is dead. On a waste island in the Atlantic Ocean is his
-grave; and he for whom the world was too narrow lies quietly under a
-little hillock, where five weeping willows hang their green heads,
-and a little brook, murmuring sorrowfully, ripples by. There is no
-inscription on his tomb; but Clio, with a just pen, has written thereon
-invisible words, which will resound, like spirit tones, through
-thousands of years.
-
-Britannia! the sea is thine. But the sea has not water enough to wash
-away the shame with which the death of that mighty one has covered
-thee. Not thy windy Sir Hudson--no, thou thyself wert the Sicilian
-bravo with whom perjured kings bargained that they might revenge on the
-man of the people what he had once inflicted on one of themselves. And
-he was thy guest, and had seated himself by thy hearth.
-
-Strange! A terrible destiny has already overtaken the three greatest
-enemies of the Emperor. Londonderry has cut his throat, Louis XVIII.
-has rotted away on his throne, and Professor Saalfeld is still
-professor in Göttingen.
-
-  _Heinrich Heine._
-
-
-
-
-_VERSES FROM HEINE._
-
-
-    IT makes a man happy, no doubt,
-    But it maketh him weary, i’fegs,
-    To have three lovely women about him,
-    And only a couple of legs.
-
-    With one I must walk of a morning;
-    At eve with another I rove;
-    And a third comes at noontide, and drags me
-    Right out of my quarters, by Jove!
-
-    Farewell, irresistible sirens!
-    I have but two legs of my own;
-    Henceforth in some rural seclusion
-    I’ll worship Dame Nature--alone.
-
-           *       *       *       *       *
-
-    THESE fine ladies, understanding
-    Honour must to poets be,
-    Bade me to a lordly luncheon--
-    My great Genius and me.
-
-    There was soup, ah! it was stunning;
-    There was wine no lip would spurn;
-    There was poultry, simply godlike,
-    There was hare cooked to a turn.
-
-    They talked I remember of poets,
-    And when I could eat no more,
-    I rose, and acknowledged the honour,
-    And bowed till I reached the door.
-
-           *       *       *       *       *
-
-    FRANKLY, this young man I honour,
-    He exhibits graces rare.
-    Often he has stood me oysters,
-    Also Rhine-wine and liqueurs.
-
-    And his clothes exactly fit him,
-    And his tie proclaims the swell;
-    And he turns up every morning,
-    And he hopes I’m pretty well,
-
-    Talks about my reputation,
-    And my wit, and grace of style;
-    And he’d do, if I would let him,
-    Oh, a thousand things the while!
-
-    And at nights, in rooms surrounded
-    By the fairest of the fair,
-    He declaims my ‘Heavenly’ poems
-    With a soft abstracted air.
-
-    Truly, is not this refreshing?
-    Such young men as him I praise
-    Are not common; they are growing
-    Rare and rarer nowadays.
-
-
-    A YOUNG man loves a maiden
-    Who other hopes has fed,
-    And her love loves another love,
-    And to his choice is wed.
-
-    The maiden marries straightway
-    The handiest man to be had,
-    And this is simple cussedness,
-    And her young man is mad.
-
-    It is an ancient drama,
-    But any time ’twill fit--
-    Don’t play “first gentleman” unless
-    You want your heart to split.
-
-           *       *       *       *       *
-
-    LAID on thy snow-white shoulder
-      My head is at rest;
-    And I listen--and know the unquiet
-      Desire of thy breast.
-
-    The gorgeous hussars have stormed it,
-      And entered without strife!
-    And, to-morrow, a woman will leave me
-      That I love as my life.
-
-    What tho’ in the morning she leave me,
-      To-night she is mine--
-    My head is at rest on her shoulder,
-      And her snow-white arms entwine.
-
-  _Translated by Ernest Radford._
-
-[Illustration: “BUT THOU WENT’ST ON WITH EVEN-STEPPING FEET.”]
-
-    THOU wert a blonde-hair’d maid without a stain,
-    So neat, so prim, so cool! I stay’d in vain
-    To see thy bosom’s guarded gates unroll,
-    And Inspiration breathe upon thy soul.
-
-    A zeal and ardour for those lofty themes,
-    By chilly Reason scorn’d for airy dreams,
-    But wringing from the noble and the good
-    The toil of hand and heart, and brain and blood.
-
-    On hills with vineyards’ clambering leafage gay,
-    Glass’d in the Rhine we roamed one summer day;
-    Bright was the sun, and from the shining cup
-    Of every flower a giddy scent flew up.
-
-    A kiss of fire, a deep voluptuous blush,
-    Burn’d on each pink and every rosy bush,
-    Ideal flames in dandelions glow’d
-    And lit each sorriest weed that edged our road.
-
-    But thou went’st on with even-stepping feet,
-    Clad in white satin, elegant and neat;
-    No child of Netcher’s brush more trim and nice,
-    And in thy stays a little heart of ice.
-
-  _Translated by Richard Garnett._
-
-
-
-
-_ABOUT MONEY._
-
-
-THE world is divided into two kinds of human beings--those that have
-money and those that have none. But the latter are not human beings at
-all--they are either devils, viz., poor devils; or angels, viz., angels
-of patience and renunciation.
-
-Without money, without teeth, and without a wife we come into this
-world; and without money, without teeth, and without a wife we go out
-of this world. What then have we accomplished in the world? We have
-made money, cut teeth, and taken unto ourselves wives! A glorious
-destiny! There are fevers, pains, convulsions, and sufferings of all
-kinds attendant upon the getting of teeth and wives, and when one has
-them they hurt the whole year round, and often the best one can do is
-to have them extracted. Teeth and wives come to you without your doing,
-and unless most carefully treated they are liable to decay. But money
-does not come without your doing, and often a man leaves this world
-without having had money. It would be interesting to hear the reply of
-such a person when asked on the other side, “What did you do in the
-world?”
-
-Who has money? The rich people! That is a misfortune! If the poor
-people only had money then we should see what poor devils these rich
-fellows are! It is no art to be rich when one has much money, and it is
-no merit to be poor when one has none.
-
-What is money? Money is a goodly lump which the Lord God attaches to
-insignificant people, so as not to lose sight of them in his creation,
-as a good housekeeper puts a big label on a little key.
-
-What is money? Money is a figure which gains in importance as there is
-a cipher attached to it.
-
-What is money? Money is a metal heel under the boots of little people
-to make them appear as tall as others.
-
-What is money? Money is an indemnity which God gives to a certain
-number of persons on condition that they will not make bold to acquire
-any such goods as Intellect or Genius.
-
-What is money? Money is the _accent grave_ upon a letter which would
-else be silent.
-
-What is money? Money is the mysterious essence of a being which defines
-its _ego_ in the following words:--“If I were not what I have, I should
-not have what I am.”
-
-But what is no money? No money? No money?
-
-No money is a thing of which all empty pockets are full.
-
-No money is the _alibi_ of a being which should testify to our presence
-in this world.
-
-No money is a disease aggravated by the continuous obstruction of
-Fortune.
-
-No money is a gentle invitation of nature to incur debts, and a
-peremptory command not to pay them.
-
-No money is an irresistible inclination to melancholy on the part of
-our purse caused by hopeless love to an unattainable object.
-
-No money is an _ex_position of no money at all, a _pro_position in
-abstract philosophy, a fit position for a minister of finance, and a
-happy _dis_position for platonic love.
-
-No money is a vulgar ballad which common people sing aloud on the
-streets, but the more refined only hum between their lips within doors.
-
-No money is the watchword of extreme radicalism and the art of making
-oneself popular at a low price.
-
-Alas, what is man without money? A twice-told anecdote, a song without
-a tune, a lost poodle-dog without an honest finder, last year’s
-calendar, etc., etc.
-
-Without money no prince can reign, no minister can minister, no
-general can make war, no painter can paint, no farmer can till the
-field; only the bards and poets sing and make verses without money; the
-poet is true to his muse even though he has no money; indeed he muses
-more than ever--how to get some.
-
-  _M. G. Saphir_ (1795-1858).
-
-
-
-
-_A NIGHT IN THE BREMER RATHSKELLER._
-
-
-IT struck ten o’clock as I descended the broad steps of the
-Rathskeller. There was a reasonable hope of finding it empty, for a
-storm was howling without, the weather-cocks were making strange music,
-and the rain splashed upon the pavement. But the kellerdiener gave me a
-questioning look when I told him my desire.
-
-“What, so late, and to-night of all nights?” he exclaimed.
-
-“It’s never too late for me before twelve,” I answered; “and after that
-it is early enough in the day.”
-
-“Are you expecting company?” asked the man.
-
-“I am alone.”
-
-“You might have some unasked,” he added, looking about timorously at
-the shadows his lamp cast.
-
-“What do you mean?” I asked in surprise.
-
-“Oh, I was only thinking,” answered he, lighting a couple of candles
-and setting a large beaker before me. “There are all sorts of odd
-rumours about the 1st of September. Indeed I can’t do it, sir! Not
-to-day, sir!”
-
-I took this to be one of those common tricks wherewith custodians,
-wardens, and the like work upon a stranger’s purse, so I placed a
-generous coin in his hand, and took him by the arm to make him come
-with me.
-
-“No, that was not my intention, sir,” he said, trying to give it back
-to me. “I’ll tell you frankly what my meaning was--there’s nothing in
-the world would induce me to enter the Apostles’ cellar this night, for
-it’s the 1st of September.”
-
-“Well, and what of that?”
-
-“In God’s name, then, you may think what you please, but it isn’t as it
-should be there to-night, and that’s because it is the anniversary day
-of the _Rose_.”[3]
-
-I laughed till the walls rang again. “Well, I have heard many a
-ghost-story in my life, but never one about a wine-ghost. Aren’t you
-ashamed to talk such nonsense, you with your white hair? But I have
-the permission of the Senate; I may drink in this cellar to-night,
-wherever I please, and as long as I please. Therefore, in the name of
-the Senate, I bid you follow me. Unlock the cellar of Bacchus.”
-
-This had the desired effect; unwillingly, but not venturing to
-remonstrate, he took the candles and beckoned to me. First we traversed
-one roomy vault, then a smaller one, until we reached a long narrow
-passage. Our steps reverberated with a hollow sound, and our breath
-striking against the wall produced what seemed like distant whispering.
-At last we stood before a door, the keys rattled, with a moan it
-came yawning open, the light of the candles fell into the cellar,
-and opposite to me sat Friend Bacchus upon a mighty cask. Refreshing
-sight! They had not pictured him with delicate grace, those old Bremen
-artists, not daintily as a Grecian youth; they had not represented him
-old and drunk, with a disgusting belly, leering eyes, and protruding
-tongue, as the vulgarised myth profanely portrays him now and then.
-Outrageous anthropomorphism; blind folly of man! Because some of his
-priests, grown old in his worship, walk about thus; because their
-belly swells with satisfaction, their nose takes colour from the
-burning reflection of the dark-red flood, their eyes turn up in silent
-bliss--these things must needs be attributed to the god, while they but
-adorn his worshippers.
-
-Otherwise did the men of Bremen. How blithely and cheerily does the
-old boy ride his cask! The round blooming face, the merry little
-wine-enraptured eyes looking down so knowingly, the broad smiling mouth
-that has tasted of many a bumper, the short powerful neck, the whole
-little figure teeming with health and good humour! Is one not tempted
-to expect that in a gay mood, wine-inspired, he will bend his little
-round knees, press his calves up close, and stem his heels against
-the old mother-cask, setting her off at a brisk canter, in which all
-the Roses, Apostles, and common casks will join with a wild “halloo”
-through the cellar?
-
-“Lord of Heaven!” cried the custodian, clinging tightly to my arm;
-“don’t you see him roll his eyes and swing his legs?”
-
-“Old fellow, you are crazy!” said I, casting a timid look at the wooden
-god; “it is the light of the candles flickering about him.” At the same
-time a queer feeling came over me as I followed the old man out of
-the Bacchus-cellar. Was it really the light of the candles, was it an
-illusion what I saw? Did he not nod to me with his little round pate,
-did he not put out one of his chubby legs and shake and writhe with
-secret laughter? I ran after the old man and walked close behind him.
-
-“Now to the twelve Apostles,” I said to him. He did not reply; shaking
-his head dubiously he walked on. There were two or three steps to
-ascend from the large cellar into a small one, into the subterranean
-heavens, the seat of the blessed, where abide the twelve Apostles.
-What are ye, vaults and sepulchres of royal families, beside these
-catacombs! Place coffin by coffin, laud upon black marble the merits
-of the man who sleeps below, employ a garrulous keeper in garments of
-mourning, let him praise the unspeakable greatness of this dust or of
-that, let him relate the marvellous virtues of a prince who fell at
-such and such a battle, the exquisite beauty of a princess upon whose
-sarcophagus the virgin’s myrtle twines with the bursting rosebud--it
-will remind you of mortality, it may cost you a tear; but can it
-touch you like this bed-chamber of a century, this resting-place of a
-glorious race? There they lie in their dark-brown coffins devoid of
-ornament and frippery. No marble boasts of their silent merits, their
-inconspicuous virtue, their excellent character; but what man with
-a heart for virtue of this sort does not feel himself stirred when
-the old custodian, this keeper of the catacombs, this sexton of the
-subterranean church, places his candles upon the coffins and lets the
-light fall upon the illustrious names of the great dead! Like royal
-heads, these too have no long title and surname; in noble simplicity
-their names appear upon the brown coffins. There is Andrew, here John,
-in yonder corner Judas, in this Peter. Who is not touched when he is
-then told that there lies the noble one of Nierenstein, born 1718; here
-he of Rüdesheim, born 1726. To the right Paul, to the left James, the
-good James!
-
-“Good-night, ye old lords of the Rhine; good-night. And if there is
-anything I can do for you, fiery Judas, or you, gentle Andrew, or you,
-dear John, come, come to me.”
-
-“Lord of Heaven!” the old man interrupted me, slamming the door and
-turning the key. “Are you intoxicated already by the few drops you
-had, that you should thus tempt the devil? Don’t you know that the
-wine-spirits arise this night, and visit each other, as they always do
-on the 1st of September? And should I lose my place thereby, I shall
-run off and leave you if you speak such words again. It is not yet
-twelve o’clock, but at any moment one of them might come creeping out
-of his cask and frighten us to death with a hideous grimace.”
-
-“Stop your foolish prattle, old fellow, and be comforted. I will not
-say another word to wake your wine-spirits. But now take me to the
-Rose.”
-
-We walked on; we entered a vault, the rose-garden of Bremen. There
-she lay, old Rose, bulky, tremendous, with an air of commanding
-sovereignty. What an enormous cask! and every bumper worth its weight
-in gold! 1615! Where are the hands that planted thee? Where are the
-eyes that revelled in thy bloom. Where are the happy folks that exulted
-when thou, noble grape, wert cut upon the heights of the Rhinelands,
-when thou wert pulled and thy golden flood burst into the tub? They are
-gone, like the waves of the river that bathed the foot of thy vineyard.
-
-“There, and now good-night, Frau Rose!” said the old servant
-pleasantly. “Now, good-night, and God bless you; here, this way, sir,
-not around that corner; this is the way out of the cellar. Here, come,
-do not run against those casks; I will hold the candle.”
-
-“No, indeed, old chap,” I said; “the joke is only just beginning.
-All this was but a foretaste. Bring me two or three bottles of your
-choicest of ’22 in the large room yonder.”
-
-He stood there with eyes wide open, the poor fool. “Sir,” he said
-solemnly, “put it out of your mind. I will not stay with you for love
-or money.”
-
-“Who told you to stay with me? Put the wine where I tell you, and, in
-God’s name, go along with you.”
-
-“But I cannot leave you alone in the cellar,” he replied. “I know,
-begging your pardon, that you wouldn’t steal anything, but it is
-against my orders.”
-
-“Well, then, lock the door behind me; put a padlock on, as ponderous as
-you please, and to-morrow morning at six come and wake me and get your
-fee.”
-
-[Illustration: “TWO MEN WITH CEREMONIOUS POLITENESS URGING PRECEDENCE
-UPON EACH OTHER.”]
-
-He tried to remonstrate, but it was in vain. At last he put down three
-bottles and nine candles before me, wiped out the beaker, and bade me
-good-night with a heavy heart as it seemed. He locked the door, and out
-of tender solicitude for me, as it would seem, more than for the safety
-of his cellar, hung on a padlock. Just then the clock struck twelve. I
-heard him mutter a prayer and hasten away. The sound of his steps died
-away in the vault, and when he shut the outside door of the cellar it
-reverberated like a peal of thunder through the passages.
-
-So I am alone with thee, my soul, far down in the womb of the earth.
-Up on the earth they are all asleep and adream, and down here, round
-about, they slumber in their coffins, the spirits of wine. Do they
-dream, I wonder, of their short childhood, of the distant hills where
-they were bred, and of their old father Rhine who murmured a gentle
-ditty by their cradle?
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Hark! Was not that the sound of a door? Certainly very queer; if I were
-not alone down here, if I did not know that men can only walk the earth
-above, I should be tempted to think that there are steps resounding
-through the vaults. Ha! here they come, there is something fumbling at
-the door; it shakes the latch, but the door is locked and bolted; this
-night no _mortal_ will disturb me. Ha! What is that? The door opens.
-Holy horrors!
-
-Outside the door stood two men with ceremonious politeness urging the
-precedence upon each other. The one was tall and lean, adorned with
-a great black wig, a dark-red coat, trimmed with gilt cording and
-gilt-spun buttons; his legs, of abnormal length and thinness, were
-attired in knee-breeches of black velvet with gold buckles. His sword,
-with a heft of porcelain, he had stuck through his trousers-pocket;
-when bowing he waved a little three-cornered silk hat, while the
-flowing locks of his wig brushed his shoulders. The man had a pale,
-sorrowful face, deep-set eyes, and a large nose of fiery red. Quite
-different was the smaller fellow, who had been specially obsequious
-in urging the other to pass him at the door. His hair was pasted to
-his head with the white of an egg, and on either side it was fastened
-securely in two rolls like the holsters of a pistol; a long pig-tail
-hung down his back; he wore a little coat of grey faced with red;
-his lower parts were adorned with large jack-boots, his upper with a
-richly-embroidered vest of state, which fell over his well-rounded
-little belly down to his knees; and he was buckled about with an
-enormous sword. There was an expression of exceeding good-nature in his
-fleshy face, especially in his little eyes that stood out like those
-of a lobster. His gestures were carried out with an enormous felt hat
-turned up boldly on either side.
-
-They hung their hats upon the wall, unbuckled their swords, and sat
-down silently by the table without looking at me. I was about to take
-heart and address them, when there was a new sound outside. Steps
-approached, the door was opened, and four other gentlemen, attired in
-the same old fashion, entered.
-
-“God greet ye, Lords of the Rhine!” said the tall one of the red coat
-in a deep bass voice, getting up and bowing. “God greet ye,” squeaked
-the little one; “it’s a long time since last we saw you, James!”
-
-“Hallo and good morning, Matthew,” replied one of the new-comers;
-“and good morning to you too, Judas! But what is this? Where are our
-bumpers, our pipes and tobacco? Has the old knave not yet waked out of
-his sinner’s sleep?”
-
-“The lazy-bones!” cried the little one. “The heavy-eyed rascal! He is
-still lying over yonder in the graveyard; but, thunder and lightning,
-I’ll wake him up!” With that he seized a large bell that was standing
-upon the table, ringing it and laughing in a shrill, cutting voice.
-
-As is the case with genuine old drinkers, so among these guests the
-conversation would not flow without wine. Just then a new personage
-appeared at the door. It was a little old man, with shaking legs and
-grey hair; his head looked like a skull over which a thin hide has been
-drawn, and his eyes shone dimly out of deep hollows; he was tugging at
-a large basket, and greeted the guests humbly.
-
-“Ah, here’s our old kellermeister, Balthasar,” called out the guests;
-“come on, old fellow, put down the beakers and bring our pipes! Why did
-you tarry so long? It struck twelve long ago.”
-
-The old man gaped once or twice rather indecently, and on the
-whole looked like a person who has overslept. “Came near sleeping
-through the 1st of September,” he grunted; “ever since they have
-paved the churchyard, I don’t hear as well as I did. Where are the
-other gentlemen?” he proceeded, taking beakers of strange shape and
-marvellous size out of the basket, and putting them on the table.
-
-“Where are the others? You are only six, and old Rose hasn’t come yet.”
-
-“Put the bottles down first,” exclaimed Judas, “that we may get a drop
-of something to drink, and then go over yonder--they are still asleep
-in their casks; tap them with your dry bones and tell them to get up.”
-
-But hardly had Judas ended, when there was a rush and boisterous
-laughter at the door. “Spinster Rose, her health, hurrah, and her
-sweetheart Bacchus!” The door flew open, the ghostly fellows at the
-table jumped up and cried: “It is she, it is she, Spinster Rose and
-Bacchus and the others! Hurrah! Now we’re in for a jolly good time!”
-and with that they touched beakers with a ringing sound and laughed,
-and the fat one struck his belly, and the pale kellermeister threw his
-cap skilfully between his legs and up to the ceiling, and joined in
-with the shouts of the others till my ears rang again. What a sight!
-The wooden Bacchus, that I had but just seen astride the cask in
-the cellar, had got down, naked as he was; with his broad, smiling
-face, with his twinkling eyes, he greeted the group and came walking
-skittishly into the room; by his hand he led with much ceremony as his
-betrothed an elderly dame of great height and of goodly roundness. I
-do not know to this day how it was possible, but then and there it was
-clear as daylight to me that this dame was no other than old Rose, the
-enormous cask in the Rose-cellar.
-
-And how gorgeously had she got herself up, the old lady from the
-Rhine! In her youth she must have been a comely lass, for even now,
-although the fresh colours of girlhood had left her cheeks, although
-time had painted some little wrinkles about her brow and her mouth,
-two centuries could not efface the noble features of her fine face.
-Her eyebrows had turned grey, and a couple of unseemly grey hairs had
-sprouted upon her pointed chin, but the hair brushed smoothly over her
-forehead was brown as nuts, and only intermingled here and there with a
-little silvery grey. Upon her head she wore a black velvet cap, fitting
-closely above her ears; then she had on a jerkin of finest black
-cloth, and the bodice of red velvet showing beneath was fastened with
-silver hooks and chains. About her throat she wore a broad necklace of
-glittering garnets, fastened to which was a gold medal; an ample skirt
-of brown cloth fell about her portly figure, and a little white apron
-trimmed with white lace added a coquettish touch. On one side there was
-a large pocket of leather, on the other a bunch of tremendous keys--in
-short, she was as respectable-looking a dame as ever walked across the
-street of Cologne or Mayence in 1618.
-
-And behind Dame Rose came six shouting fellows, swinging their
-three-cornered hats, with their wigs on awry, attired in broad-tailed
-coats and long embroidered vests.
-
-With ceremonious courtesy did Bacchus lead his lady to the head of
-the table, accompanied by the jubilations of his companions. She bowed
-with becoming gravity, and sat down. At her side the wooden Bacchus
-took a seat, after Balthasar, the kellermeister, had put a big cushion
-under him, for he had else seemed pitifully small and low. The others
-also sat down, and then I saw that they were the twelve Apostles from
-the Rhine, who at other times lie sleeping in the Apostles’ cellar in
-Bremen.
-
-“So here we are, altogether once more, we young people of 1700,” said
-Peter, after the tumult had somewhat subsided. “Your health, Dame Rose!
-You don’t look a day older; you’re as comely and stately as you were
-fifty years ago. Your health, and your sweetheart’s, Bacchus.”
-
-“My humble thanks to you, esteemed Apostle,” answered Dame Rose, bowing
-her appreciation. “Are you as much of a tease as ever? I don’t know
-of no sweetheart, and you mustn’t say such things to put out a modest
-lass!” She cast down her eyes as she said it, and emptied a tremendous
-bumper.
-
-“Love,” said Bacchus, looking tenderly out of his little eyes, and
-taking her hand; “Love, don’t put on airs. You know that my heart has
-inclined to you for two thousand autumns, and that I love you to-day
-before all others; a fiery kiss upon thy rosy lips shall prove it.”
-
-[Illustration: “HE TOOK HIS TRIBUTE WITH INTEREST.”]
-
-He leaned tenderly towards her. “If only all the young folks were not
-about,” she whispered shamefacedly. But under the shouts and laughter
-of the twelve the wine-god took his tribute with interest.
-
-“You are a rogue,” he cried, laughing.
-
-“You are a Turk, and make love to many at the same time. Do you suppose
-I don’t know how you pay court to the frivolous Frenchwoman, the Lady
-of Bordeaux, and to the chalky pale-face of Champagne? Go away; you
-have a bad character, and are not made for faithful German love.”
-
-“The devil, you carry your jealousy too far,” he cried snappishly. “I
-can’t break off all of my old connections.”
-
-“What is this I see?” said Dame Rose. “You are thirteen at table. Who
-is that over there in strange garments? Who brought him here?”
-
-Heavens, how I started! They all looked at me with surprise, and did
-not seem at all pleased at my intrusion. But I took heart, and said:
-“Your humble servant, gentlemen. I am nothing further than a mortal,
-graduated to a Doctor of Philosophy.”
-
-“But how dare you come here at this hour, mortal?” said Peter very
-solemnly, shooting lightnings out of his eyes at me.
-
-“Your Excellency,” I replied, “there is good reason for that. I am an
-enamoured friend of noble drink, and by the kindness of your right
-worthy Senate I have received permission to pay my respects to the
-twelve Apostles and to Dame Rose.”
-
-“And so you like to drink Rhine-wine?” said Bacchus. “Well, that is one
-good quality, and is the more to be praised at a time when mortals have
-grown more or less cold toward this golden fountain. I believe the race
-feels that it is no longer worthy of a noble drop, so they brew some
-slip-slop stuff of syrup and whisky, call it Chateau-Margaux, Sillery,
-St. Julien, and all sorts of pompous names, and when they drink it they
-get red rings about their mouth because the stuff is coloured, and
-headache the next day because they have had vile gin.”
-
-“Ah, it was a different life we led,” continued John, “when our blood
-was young in the years ’19 and ’26. Nay, as late as ’50 there were
-high times within these noble vaults. Every evening, no matter whether
-the sun would shine in spring or whether it would rain and snow in
-winter, every evening these apartments were filled with happy guests.
-Here, where we are sitting now, sat in state and dignity the Senate of
-Bremen, splendid wigs upon their heads, weapons at their side, courage
-in their heart, and a bumper before each.”
-
-“Yes, yes, children,” said old Rose; “it used to be quite different
-from now say fifty, or one hundred, or two hundred years ago. Then they
-brought their wives and daughters with them to the cellar, and the
-handsome Bremen lasses drank Rhine-wine, or of our neighbours’ from
-the Moselle, and were noted far and near for their blooming cheeks,
-their crimson lips, and for their lovely, sparkling eyes; now they
-drink miserable stuff, tea and the like, which grows far away where
-the Chinamen live, I am told, and which in my day women drank when
-they had a little cough or other trouble. Rhine-wine, genuine honest
-Rhine-wine, doesn’t agree with them nowadays; for the land’s sake you
-wouldn’t believe it! They put sweet Spanish wine with it to make it
-taste better; they say it’s too sour.”
-
-The Apostles burst into a perfect roar of laughter, which I joined
-involuntarily, and Bacchus laughed so horribly that old Balthasar had
-to hold him.
-
-“Ah, the good old times!” cried fat Bartholomew. “Our burghers used
-to drink two measures, and it seemed as if they had drunk water, so
-sober were they; but now one goblet throws them down. They are out of
-practice.”
-
-
-There was a terrible bang that made the vault ring again, the door flew
-open, and upon the threshold stood a tall white figure. With measured,
-ringing steps, a ponderous sword within his hand, in armour but
-without a helmet, did this gigantic individual strut into the room. He
-was of stone, his face was set and without expression. Nevertheless,
-his stony lips parted and he said--
-
-“God greet ye, beloved vines from the Rhine. I needs must come and
-visit my fair neighbour on her anniversary-day. God greet you, Dame
-Rose. May I sit down to your carousal?”
-
-They all turned in surprise upon the giant statue. Spinster Rose broke
-the silence, clapped her hands together with joy, and exclaimed--
-
-“Goodness me! It’s stony Roland, who has stood for many centuries upon
-the market-place of our dear Bremen town. Oh, it is kind of you to do
-me the honour, sir knight; lay down your shield and sword and make
-yourself comfortable; won’t you sit here by my side? Gracious me, how
-pleased I am!”
-
-The Apostles had moved up closer and made room for their guest on a
-chair by the ancient maiden. He laid his shield and sword in a corner
-and sat down rather awkwardly upon the little chair; but alas! this had
-been made for respectable mortals but not for a stony giant; with a
-crash it broke under him, and he lay full length upon the floor.
-
-“Base generation, which fabricates such stools upon which in my day
-no delicate maiden could have sat without breaking through the seat!”
-grumbled the hero, slowly getting up. The kellermeister rolled a cask
-up to the table, and invited the knight to be seated. A couple of
-staves cracked as he sat down, but the cask stood the test.
-
-“How tastes the wine to you?” Bacchus asked the new-comer. “It must be
-long since last you drank any.”
-
-“It is good, by my sword! Very good! What growth is it?”
-
-“Red Ingelheimer, august sir!” answered the kellermeister.
-
-The stony eye of the knight took life and fire when he heard this; his
-chiselled features were softened by a smile, and contentedly he looked
-into his cup.
-
-“Ingelheim! Thou sweet, familiar name!” he said. “Thou noble castle of
-my knightly emperor; so thy name has outlasted the centuries, and the
-vines that Charlemagne planted in his Ingelheim still blossom? Does
-this new world know aught of Roland and of great Carolus, his master?”
-
-“That you must ask the mortal over yonder,” replied Judas; “we have
-nothing to do with the earth. He is a doctor and magister, and must be
-able to give an account of his generation.”
-
-The giant fixed his eyes inquiringly upon me, and I replied: “Noble
-Paladin! Humanity has grown cold and depraved; its shallow skull is
-nailed to the present, and looks neither forward nor backward; but we
-are not yet so bad that we should forget the glorious heroes that once
-walked our earth, and threw their shadows into our times.”
-
-
-The spirit of song seemed to have come over the company, for no sooner
-had Andrew ended than Judas began to sing unasked, and the others
-followed him. With a resounding bass voice Roland sang a war-hymn
-of the old Franconians, only a few words of which I understood, and
-at last, when they had all sung, they looked at me, and Rose nodded
-encouragingly. So I began--
-
-    “Am Rhein, am Rhein, da wachsen unsere Reben
-    Da wächst ein deutscher Wein.”
-
-When I had finished, they all came crowding about me to shake my hand,
-and Andrew breathed a kiss upon my lips.
-
-“Do they sing that?” cried Bacchus. “Now then, Doctor, I’m mighty glad
-to hear that; your race cannot be so very frail if it sings such clear
-and cheery songs.”
-
-“Ah, sir,” I said sadly, “there are many sentimentalists who refuse to
-give such a song the credit of being poetry, like some pietists who
-consider the Lord’s prayer not mystic enough for devotion.”
-
-“There have been fools at all times, sir!” replied Peter. “But talking
-about your generation, tell us what has happened on earth during the
-last year?”
-
-“If it would interest the ladies and gentlemen,” I replied.
-
-“Go ahead,” cried Roland, and the others joining him, I began--
-
-“As regards German literature----”
-
-“Hold on, _manum de tabula!_” cried Paul. “What do we care about your
-miserable scribbling, about your puerile, disgusting quarrels, about
-your poetasters and false prophets and----”
-
-I was dumfounded. If our wonderful, magnificent literature had no
-interest for these people, what could I tell them? I thought a while,
-and then continued: “It is evident that Joco, so far as the theatre is
-concerned----”
-
-“Theatre? Go away with you!” interrupted Andrew. “Why should we hear
-about your puppet-shows and other follies? Do you suppose it is aught
-to us if one of your comedy-writers is hissed? Have you nothing
-interesting--no great historical facts to tell us about?”
-
-“Alack-a-day,” I cried, “we are quite out of historical facts; in that
-line there is nothing but the Bundestag at Frankfurt.”
-
-
-The dance the two were performing was according to the mode of two
-or three centuries ago. Dame Rose had seized her petticoats in both
-hands, and spread them out so that she looked like an immense cask. She
-walked trippingly back and forth, bobbing up and down in a succession
-of curtseys. Much greater vivacity did her partner display, who
-whirled about her like a top, leaping boldly, snapping his fingers, and
-shouting ho! and hallo! Odd enough did he look, what with the dainty
-apron of Mistress Rose, which Balthasar had tied around him, fluttering
-about in the air; how his little legs jerked, and his round face smiled
-for heartfelt pleasure and delight!
-
-At last he was tired; he beckoned to Judas and Paul and whispered
-something to them. They untied his apron, took it by both ends, and
-pulled and pulled, until suddenly it grew as large as a sheet. “Ah,”
-thought I, “now they will most likely play a joke on old Balthasar.
-If only the vault were not so low as it is; I fear me he’ll break
-his skull.” Then came Judas and Bartholomew and caught hold of me;
-Balthasar smiled maliciously; I trembled, I resisted, all to no
-purpose. My senses threatened to leave me as with shouting and laughter
-they laid me upon the cloth. “Not too high, my honoured patrons,” I
-cried in great trepidation; but they laughed and shouted the louder.
-Now they began to rock the sheet, Balthasar blowing a tune on a tunnel.
-Now it began to go up and down, first 3, 4, or 5 feet, then suddenly
-they gave a jerk, I flew up, and the ceiling opened like a cloud; up,
-up higher I flew through the roof of the rathhaus, higher than the
-steeple of the church. “Well,” I thought, “it’s up with me now! When I
-fall, I shall break my neck. Farewell, my life and my love!”
-
-I had now reached the highest point of my ascent, and I fell as
-rapidly. Crash! Right through the roof of the rathhaus, down through
-the ceiling of the cellar; but I did not fall upon the sheet once more.
-I lighted on a chair with which I fell over backward upon the floor.
-
-For some time I lay stunned by the fall. A pain in my head and the
-coolness of the ground woke me at last. At first I could not think
-whether I had fallen out of bed at home, or what was the matter. At
-last I remembered, that I had fallen down from some very high region.
-With some anxiety I examined my limbs; nothing was broken, only my
-head pained me from the fall. I was in a cellar, the daylight shone in
-dimly, the light of a candle was dying out upon the table, there were
-bottles and glasses about, before every chair a little bottle with a
-long label about its neck. Ah, now I remembered everything. I was in
-Bremen, in the rathskeller; I had come in here last night, had been
-locked in, and then----. Full of horror I looked about me. I ventured
-to cast shy glances into the corners of the room; it was empty. Or was
-it possible I could have dreamed it all?
-
-Thoughtfully I walked around the table; the little sample-bottles stood
-where my strange guests had sat. First Rose, then Judas, James, and
-John. “No, a dream cannot be so like reality,” I said to myself. “All
-this that I heard and saw did actually occur!” But there was no time
-for further reflections. I heard keys rattle in the lock, it was slowly
-opened, and the old rathsdiener entered saying: “It has just struck
-six.”
-
-  _Wilhelm Hauff_ (1802-1827).
-
-
-
-
-_THE DUEL WITH THE DEVIL._
-
-
-MEANWHILE something occurred which I[4] must not pass over, as it may
-serve as a commentary to the customs of this peculiar nation. I had
-been for some time an ardent visitor at the anatomy-rooms, for I was
-anxious to make the acquaintance of medical students. It happened one
-day that I was busying myself about a corpse with several friends,
-dissecting the organs of the mind, the brain, and heart in order to
-deduce the absurdity of the belief in immortality.
-
-Suddenly I heard a voice behind me, “The devil, how stifling!”
-
-I quickly turned and saw a young student of theology, who had already
-excited my wrath in a dogmatic lecture by the ardour and gusto with
-which he had taken notes of the ridiculous conjectures of the professor
-on the nature of the diabolical. Hearing him make this remark, which at
-that moment, and from him, I took as referring wholly to myself, I told
-him pretty strongly that I objected to such personal and insinuating
-expressions.
-
-According to the ancient sacred law called “Comment,” this was an
-insult which could only be obliterated with blood. The theologian, a
-famous bravo, sent me his challenge the next day. This was just such a
-lark as I had been hoping for. Whoever cared for the good opinion of
-his fellow-students was expected to have a duel on record, although
-all of my friends admitted the custom to be utterly irrational and
-unnatural. I had prevailed upon my opponent to have the affair come
-off at a public resort, a couple of miles outside the town, and both
-parties put in an appearance at the designated place and time.
-
-Solemnly each arrival was conducted into a room, where his coat was
-removed and replaced by the “paukwichs,” a sort of armour in which the
-duel was to be fought. This “paukwichs,” or armour, consisted in a hat
-with a broad brim sufficiently protecting the face; an enormously broad
-bandage made of leather, wadded and decorated with the colours of the
-society, to be strapped over the abdomen; an immense cravat standing
-stiffly about the neck, and affording protection to the chin, throat,
-part of the shoulders, and the upper portion of the chest. The arms
-were covered from the hands to the elbows with gloves made of old silk
-stockings. It must be confessed a figure in this unique armour looked
-funny enough. However, there was great safety in it, for only a part of
-the face, the upper half of the arm, and a part of the chest were at
-the mercy of the opponent’s rapier.
-
-[Illustration: “A FIGURE IN THIS UNIQUE ARMOUR.”]
-
-A strong impulse to laugh came over me as I examined myself in the
-mirror. “The devil, in such attire, and about to enter the lists on
-behalf of the odour in the anatomy-room!”
-
-My companions took my hilarity as an expression of courage and valour.
-Thinking, therefore, the right moment had now come, they conducted me
-into a large hall where the position of the enemy had been marked on
-the floor with chalk. A freshman considered it a high honour to be
-permitted to carry my rapier, as sword and sceptre were carried before
-the ancient emperors. It was a well-made weapon of finest steel, with a
-large hilt offering at the same time a protection for the hand.
-
-At last we stood facing each other. The student of theology put on a
-fierce expression and looked upon me with an air of disdain, which
-strengthened me in my purpose of setting a right handsome mark upon him.
-
-We put ourselves into the traditional posture, the blades were crossed,
-the seconds yelled “Ready!” and our rapiers whizzed through the air,
-and fell clinking upon the hilts. I confined myself to parrying the
-really masterly and artistic cuts of my opponent. I knew that my glory
-would be the greater if I merely defended myself at first and then gave
-him his deserts in the fourth or fifth round.
-
-Applause followed each pass. Never had there been such bold and
-decisive attacks, never such dignified and cold-blooded self-defence.
-My skill in fencing was lifted up into the seventh heaven by old
-hands, and there was much curiosity and conjecture as to my tactics of
-retaliation. No one dared urge me to the onset.
-
-Four rounds had passed without one thrust that had drawn blood. Before
-stepping forth for the fifth, I pointed out to my comrades the spot on
-my theologian’s right cheek where I intended to hit him. He seemed to
-get wind of my purpose, put himself under cover as much as possible,
-and carefully abstained from venturing an attack on his part. I began
-with a superb feint, which was received with an admiring “Ah!”, made a
-couple of regular thrusts, and with a clap my rapier was in his cheek.
-
-The honest theologian was very much taken aback. My second and witness
-rushed up to him with a tape-measure, examined the wound, and said in
-a solemn voice, “It is more than an inch, and it gaps horribly, so
-‘Abfuhr!’” Which is as much as to say, the poor boy having a hole in
-his face an inch long, his honour has been vindicated.
-
-Now my friends crowded about me; the elder grasped my hands, the
-younger gazed with veneration upon the weapon with which the deed,
-surpassing anything in history, had been done. For who could boast of
-first having designated the spot he intended to hit, and then hitting
-it with such marvellous precision?
-
-With a serious mien my opponent’s second stepped up to me, and in the
-name of the former offered me amity. I approached the invalid, whose
-wound was just being attended to with needle and thread, and made
-friends.
-
-“I am greatly indebted to you,” he said, “for having marked me thus.
-I have been forced to study theology against my will. My father is a
-country parson, my mother is a pious lady, who would like above all
-things to see her son in a surplice. But your decisive stroke has
-altered matters; with a scar reaching from my ear to my mouth there is
-no church that would have me.”[5]
-
-The companions of the brave theologian looked upon him sympathisingly.
-Who could measure his sad regrets at the thought of the old parson’s
-grief, the pious mamma’s despair, when the news of this disaster should
-reach them? But to me it seemed like a great piece of good luck for
-the youth to be given back to the world by so short an operation. I
-asked him to what studies he would now devote himself, and he frankly
-confessed that the calling of a cuirassier or of an actor had always
-seemed chiefly attractive to him.
-
-I felt like embracing him for this happy thought, for it is in these
-very professions that I have most of my friends and adherents. I
-advised him urgently to follow the bend of nature, and promised to
-supply him with the best recommendations to distinguished generals and
-to the most notable stages.
-
-As for all the persons in any way connected with this remarkable duel,
-I gave them an excellent dinner, in which of course I included my
-opponent and his followers. I then privately paid the debts of the
-quondam theologian, and when he had recovered I supplied him with money
-and letters, which opened a right jolly and brilliant career to him.
-
-Neither the elegant conclusion of the duel nor my unobtrusive charity
-remained a secret. I was now looked upon as a being of a higher order,
-and I know many a young lady who shed tears over my generous sentiments.
-
-The students of medicine sent a deputation presenting me with a superb
-rapier, because, as they thought, I had fought on behalf of the
-faultless odour of their anatomy-room.
-
-  _Wilhelm Hauff._
-
-
-
-
-_EDITORIAL CO-OPERATION._
-
-
-“AS our paper must needs be very universal,” I said, “and as there
-should be something in the title to express this tendency, how would it
-do to call it ‘Literary Provender’?”
-
-“That would not be bad; there might be a vignette representing the
-public as a bevy of fowls clustering about the Muse, who is cutting
-up food for them; but it will not do. Some might take offence at
-Provender; it might seem as if only the leavings from the great
-dinner-table of literature were to be served to the public. It won’t
-do!”
-
-“Well, then,--‘Evening-Bells.’”
-
-“‘Evening-Bells?’ Ah, indeed. That is an idea! There is something so
-soft and soothing about the word. I’ll make a note of the suggestion.
-But we should have to have a critical supplement. I have been thinking
-we might call it ‘The Distiller.’”
-
-“It is very expressive,” I replied; “it is quite customary in these
-times to subject books to a chemical process of review or criticism;
-the distillation is carried on until the spirit sought for has
-evaporated, or until the learned chemist can announce to the world
-what all the different elements were that combined in the decoction
-he analysed. But with such a name the paper might appear to smell
-of the gin-shop. How would it strike you to call it ‘The Critical
-Chimney-Sweep’?”
-
-The publisher gazed at me in silence for a moment, and then embraced me
-with emotion. “An idea,” he cried; “a remarkable idea! What a volume
-of meaning there is in the word! German literature is the chimney,
-our reviewers are the sweepers: they scrape down the literary soot,
-to preserve the house from fire. It must be an extremely radical
-paper; it must be striking, that is the first thing. ‘The Critical
-Chimney-Sweep!’ And we will bring the art critiques under the promising
-title, ‘The Artistic Night-Watch.’” Hastily putting down the names,
-he continued: “Sir, my guardian-angel has brought you to my door;
-when I sit by my table writing my mind seems blocked up, but I have
-often noticed that when I once begin to speak, my thoughts flow like a
-stream. So when you were speaking of Walter Scott and his influence a
-glorious idea arose within me. I will make a German Walter Scott.”
-
-“How so? Are you too going to write a novel?”
-
-“I? Dear me, no; I have something better to do; and _one_? no, twenty!
-If I only had my thoughts all ordered. I am going to procure a great
-Unknown, and this mysterious personage is to consist of a party of
-novel-writers; do you understand?”
-
-“It is not quite clear to me, I confess. How will you----?”
-
-“There is nothing that cannot be accomplished with money; I shall
-address myself to, say, six or eight clever men who have already made
-their mark in writing novels, invite them here, and offer the proposal
-that they should join to produce this Walter Scott. They choose the
-historical subjects and characters, discuss the secondary figures to be
-introduced, and then----”
-
-“Ah, now I understand your glorious plan; then you will erect a factory
-like the one at Scheeran. You will send for cuts of all the most
-romantic scenery in Germany; the costumes of old times can be procured
-at Berlin; legends and songs can be found in the _Boys’ Wonderhorn_,
-and other collections. You engage two or three dozen of aspiring young
-men; your sexavirat, the great Unknown, gives the general plot of the
-novels, here and there he models and corrects an important character;
-the twenty-four or thirty-six others write the dialogue, picture
-towns, scenes, buildings, after nature----”
-
-“And,” he interrupted me gleefully, “as the one has more talent for
-the delineation of scenery, the other for costumes, the third for
-conversation, the fourth or fifth for comedy, others for the tragic----”
-
-“Ah, I see; so the young poets will be divided into painters of
-scenery, tailors of costume, leaders of conversation, comedians, and
-tragedians, and the novel passes through the hands of each, like the
-pictures at Campe’s in Nuremberg, where one draws the sky, the other
-the earth, this one roofs, and that one soldiers, where one paints
-green, the other blue, the third red, the fourth yellow.”
-
-“And in this way harmony and uniformity would be reached, just as
-they are in Walter Scott, where all characters have a striking family
-resemblance. And we’ll have a pocket-edition as cheap as possible; we
-can count on forty thousand.”
-
-“And the title shall be: ‘The History of Germany, from Hermann the
-Cheruskian to 1830, in one hundred historical novels!’”
-
-Herr Salzer shed tears of emotion. Having recovered, he seized my hand.
-“Well, am I not as enterprising as anybody?” he said. “Think of the
-talk it will make. But to you, most excellent friend, I am indebted for
-aid in bringing forth this giant thought. Pick out the handsomest book
-in my shop, and in token of my gratitude I name you to be--one of the
-twenty-four!”
-
-  _Wilhelm Hauff._
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “HE PUT THE ORANGE ON THE TABLE BEFORE HIM.”]
-
-_MOZART’S JOURNEY TO PRAGUE._
-
-
-IT was in the autumn of the year 1787 that Mozart, accompanied by his
-wife, undertook the journey to Prague to supervise the performance of
-_Don Juan_.
-
-“The waggon drawn by three horses,” writes the Baroness von T. to her
-friend, “a stately chaise of reddish yellow, was the property of a
-certain old Frau Generalin Volkstett, who was fond of setting her
-relations to the Mozart family, and the kindnesses she bestowed upon
-the same in the right light.” This hasty description of the vehicle in
-question can easily be enlarged upon by any connoisseur of the taste of
-those days. The reddish-yellow chaise was decorated on each side with
-bouquets of flowers in their natural colours; the edges of the doors
-bore narrow gilt mouldings; the whole could not by any means boast the
-glassy varnish of to-day’s Vienna mode; the body was not fully rounded,
-though drawn in below with a bold, coquettish curve; then there was a
-high top with stiff leather curtains, which, for the time being, were
-pushed back.
-
-Regarding the attire of the two passengers there is this to be said.
-With wise economy Frau Constanze had packed her spouse’s new and
-splendid garments of state and chosen modest ones for the occasion;
-with an embroidered vest of somewhat faded blue there was his common
-brown coat with a row of large buttons, so fashioned that there was a
-layer of reddish gold-leaf glimmering through a starry surface, black
-silk trousers and stockings, and gilt buckles on his shoes. For the
-last half-hour he has abandoned his coat on account of the unusual
-heat, and sits gaily talking bare-headed, and in shirt-sleeves. Madam
-Mozart wears a comfortable travelling-dress, light green and white
-striped; a wealth of light-brown curls, but loosely fastened, fall over
-her neck and shoulders; as long as she lived they were never disfigured
-by powder; her husband’s thick cue was also more scantily supplied than
-usual owing to the ceremonial freedom of travel.
-
-The horses had just walked slowly up a gently sloping hill between ripe
-fields that interrupted the long stretches of woodland here and there,
-and now they had reached the edge of the woods.
-
-“Through how many miles of woods have we passed to-day and yesterday
-and the day before,” said Mozart, “and thought nothing of it, it never
-so much as occurring to me to set my foot within them. Let us get down
-now, darling mine, and get some of those dainty blue-bells over there
-in the shade. Your poor beasts, postillion, will be glad of a rest.”
-
-As they both arose a little mishap came to light, which brought upon
-the Meister something of a scolding. Through his carelessness a
-flask of fragrant essence had come open, and had poured its contents
-unobserved over their garments and over the cushioned interior of
-the chaise. “I might have known it,” lamented Frau Constanze; “there
-was such a sweet odour all the time! Alack-a-day, a whole flask of
-pure _Rosée d’aurore_ quite empty! I was so chary of it.” “Ah, little
-miser,” he comforted her, “take thought, and consider that thus, and
-thus only, could your divine smelling-whisky do us any good. At first
-we sat as in an oven, for all your fanning, and then suddenly there was
-a cool and refreshing atmosphere. You attributed it to the drop or two
-I poured on my jabot; we were revived, and conversation was once more
-animated and gay, whereas before our heads had hung low like those of
-sheep on the butcher’s cart; and this benefit will stay with us for all
-the rest of the way. But now let us put our Vienna noses into the green
-wilderness here.”
-
-[Illustration: “ARM-IN-ARM THEY ENTERED THE DUSKY SHADE OF THE
-FIR-TREES.”]
-
-Arm-in-arm they scrambled through the trench by the side of the road
-and entered the dusky shade of the fir-trees. The spicy freshness, the
-sudden change from the sunny glow without, might have proved disastrous
-to the reckless man but for the prudence of his companion. She had some
-trouble in urging his discarded garment upon him. “Ah, the glory of
-it,” he cried, gazing up the tall trunks; “it is like being in church!
-Seems to me I never was in the woods before, and it is only now that
-I can see what this means, this assembly of trees! No man’s hands
-planted them, they all came of themselves, and stand so only just
-because it is jolly to live and labour together. Fancy, when I was
-young I passed this way and that through Europe; I saw the Alps and
-the ocean, the most beautiful and most sublime things that were ever
-created; and now here stands the fool in an ordinary forest of firs
-on the boundary-line of Bohemia, astonished and enraptured that such
-things should be, that it’s not just _una finzione di poeti_, like the
-nymphs and fauns and all that, and no stage-forest; no, it’s a genuine
-one, grown out of the earth, nourished by its moisture and by the warm
-light of the sun.”
-
-“To hear you talk,” said his wife, “one would think you had never
-gone twenty steps into our Vienna _Prater_, which surely can boast of
-similar wonders and rarities.”
-
-“The _Prater_? Thunder and lightning! How dare you name the word here!
-What with their carriages, and state uniforms, and toilets and fans,
-and music, and all horrors under the sun, there’s nothing to be seen
-beyond. And even the trees, though they are big enough to be sure, I
-don’t know how it is--beech-nuts and acorns lying on the ground can’t
-for the life of them help looking like brothers and sisters to the
-hosts of worn-out corks among them. For miles it smells of waiters and
-sauces.”
-
-“Was there ever such ingratitude!” cried she; “and all this from a man
-who is deaf to all other delights when he can dine on baked chickens at
-the _Prater_!”
-
-When they were both seated in the chaise once more, and the road,
-after running through a flat stretch, began to fall again to where a
-laughing landscape unfolded, losing itself in the distant hill-lands,
-the Meister began again after a span of silence: “This world is truly
-beautiful, and no one is to be blamed for wishing to stay here as long
-as possible. Thank God, I feel as strong and hale as ever, and there
-are a thousand things I should like to be up to as soon as ever my new
-_opus_ is done and on the stage. How much there is out in the world and
-how much there is at home,--things remarkable and things beautiful,
-that I do not even know of, wonder-works of nature, science, art, and
-useful trades! The black collier-boy yonder knows just about as much as
-I do about some things, by my soul. I should like for the life of me
-to take a look into this, that, and the other thing, that doesn’t come
-within the narrow limits of my trade.”
-
-“The other day,” she answered, “I came across an old pocket calendar of
-yours; it was of ’85; there are three or four memoranda in it. One of
-them, under-scored, is: _Professor Gattner, to visit him_. Who is he?”
-
-“Yes, yes, I know--the kind old gentleman at the observatory, who has
-invited me there from time to time. I have always wished you and I
-could take a look at the moon and the man in it. They have a tremendous
-telescope up there now; they say it seems as if you could touch the
-mountains and valleys and rifts, and on the side where the sun doesn’t
-shine the shadows that the mountains cast. It’s two years now that I’ve
-wanted to see it, and I don’t manage to get around to it, ridiculous
-and shameful though it seems!”
-
-“Ah, well,” said she, “the moon won’t run away. There are many things
-we’ll make up for later. I have a presentiment.”
-
-“Out with it!”
-
-“I heard a little bird twitter that ere long the King of Prussia would
-need a _Capellmeister_.”
-
-“Oho!”
-
-“General Musical Director, I would say. Let me spin a dream! It is a
-weakness I have from my mother.”
-
-“Go ahead! the wilder the better!”
-
-“No, quite natural. First then take the time, a year from date----”
-
-“When the Pope marries Kate----”
-
-“Hush, you clown! I say a year from to-day there must be no such person
-as an Imperial composer named Wolf Mozart to be found within the walls
-of Vienna.”
-
-“Thank you kindly for that!”
-
-“I hear our old friends talking about us and our fortunes.”
-
-“Give us an example.”
-
-“Well, say one morning, shortly after nine, our exubriant old
-neighbour, Frau Volkstett, strutting straight across the cabbage
-market. She had been absent for three months; her great journey to
-visit her brother-in-law--her constant theme since we knew her--had
-at last become a reality; and now she has come back, and her full
-heart--bubbling over with the joy of travel and the impatience of
-friendship, and all sorts of delightful news--draws her irresistibly
-to the Frau Oberst. Upstairs she goes, taps at the door, and, without
-waiting to be bidden, walks in; you can imagine the delight and the
-embracements from both sides! ‘Now, dearest, best Frau Oberst,’ she
-begins, after some preliminaries, taking a fresh breath, ‘I bring
-you a bagful of messages! Can you guess from whom?’ ‘What? is it
-possible--did you pass through Berlin? Did you see the Mozarts? Ah,
-dear, sweet friend, relieve my impatience! How are our good friends? Do
-they like it as well as they did at first?’ ‘Yes, indeed! This summer
-the king sent him to Karlsbad. When would his beloved majesty, Emperor
-Joseph, have thought of doing such a thing? They had both but just come
-back when I was there. He is beaming with health and life, is growing
-stout and roundish, and is as lively as Mercury.’”
-
-And now the little woman proceeded to elaborate everything in her
-assumed _rôle_ in the most glowing colours. Of their home _Unter
-den Linden_, of their garden and country-house, of the brilliant
-effectiveness of his appearance in public, and of the exclusive
-little gatherings at court, where he accompanied the queen’s song
-on the piano, her description taking life as she went on. Entire
-conversations, the most charming anecdotes, she seemed to shake out
-of her sleeve. At the same time she was roguish enough to supply the
-person of our hero with a number of brand-new homely virtues, which
-had sprouted out of the solid ground of Prussian existence, and among
-which the said Frau Volkstett had noted as the highest phenomenon and
-proof of the marvellous potence of new surroundings the wee beginnings
-of a most praiseworthy little trait of parsimony, which proved a most
-graceful acquisition. “Yes, and only think, he has three thousand
-thalers secure, and all that for what? For leading a concert once a
-week and the opera twice. Ah, I saw him, our dear, little precious
-Mozart, in the midst of his _kapelle_. I sat with his wife in her box
-right across from their majesties. And what did the handbill say? Here
-it is; I brought it for you,--I wrapped it about a little present I
-brought you from myself and the Mozarts; here it is in plain letters!
-
-“Heaven help us! _Tarar!_ Ah, dear friend! To think that I should live
-to see it! Two years ago, when Mozart was writing his _Don Juan_,
-and that confounded villainous Salieri was also making preparations
-to repeat the triumph his piece brought him in Paris upon his own
-territory, and when he and his boon-companions thought they had plucked
-the _Don Juan_ as they had _Figaro_, leaving it neither dead nor alive
-to put it upon the stage,--don’t you remember, I then and there took
-a vow not to go and see the infamous piece, and I kept my word. When
-everybody rushed to the show--you too, dear Frau Oberst--I sat down
-quietly by my stove and took my cat upon my lap to spend the evening.
-But now, think of it! _Tarar_ on the Berlin stage, the work of his
-bitterest enemy, directed by Mozart! ‘You must come,’ he said to me,
-‘though it were only to tell them in Vienna that I do not hurt a hair
-of his head. I wish he were here himself, the envious knave, to see
-that there is no need for _me_ to murder another fellow’s thing to
-remain what I am!’”
-
-“Brava! bravissima!” exclaimed Mozart with roaring delight. He took his
-little wife by the ears, kissing and tickling her, until this bright
-soap-bubble game of a dreamy future--which, alas! never approximated
-this happy culmination--ended in mirth and boisterous laughter.
-
-Meanwhile they had reached the valley, and were approaching a village
-which they had noticed from the hill-top, and behind which a pleasant
-country-house in modern style, the residence of the Count von
-Schinzberg, became visible. It was their intention to rest and dine
-in the place. The inn where they stopped was quite at the end of the
-village, and close beside it a by-road planted with a row of poplars
-led to the garden of the Count.
-
-Mozart left the ordering of dinner to his wife, merely signifying his
-intention of having a glass of wine in the common room below, while
-she asked for a drink of water and for a quiet spot in which to enjoy
-a peaceful hour’s sleep. She was shown up a flight of stairs, her
-husband following, humming and whistling a tune as he went. In a newly
-whitewashed room, just aired, there was, among other old-fashioned
-furniture of noble origin,--which had, no doubt, wandered hither out of
-the possessions of the Count,--a neat, airy bed, with a painted canopy
-resting on slender green posts, the silk curtains of which had long ago
-been replaced by some more common fabric. Constanze exacted a promise
-from her husband to be waked in time, and bolted the door behind him,
-he seeking amusement in the common tap-room. There was not a soul
-there, however, except the host; and, finding the conversation of the
-latter as little to his taste as the wine, he thought to fill out the
-time before dinner with a walk to the Count’s park. He was told that
-respectable strangers were allowed to enter, and, moreover, the family
-had gone out for a drive.
-
-He went, and ere long he had reached the open gate, and was walking
-slowly along under the stately limes until he had the schloss in view.
-It was built in the Italian style, light in colour, with a generous
-flight of steps lying broadly to the front; the slate roof was
-decorated with statues in the usual manner, gods and goddesses, and a
-balustrade.
-
-Turning away from the _parterres_ of blooming flowers, the Meister bent
-his steps toward the shrubbery, passing groups of beautiful pines, and
-gradually approaching sunnier spots once more, attracted by the merry
-sound of a splashing fountain which he soon reached.
-
-The large oval basin was set round with orange trees in tubs,
-intermingled with laurels and oleanders; there was a small arbour at
-one side, and a soft path of sand led around to it. The arbour seemed
-a most attractive spot for a rest; there was a seat and small table in
-it, and Mozart sat down near the entrance.
-
-Inclining his ear indolently to the gentle plash of the water, his eyes
-resting upon an orange tree of medium size standing apart from the
-others close by his side and covered with exquisite fruit, our friend,
-under the influence of these reminiscences of the South, fell to musing
-on a graceful episode of his boyish travels. Smiling thoughtfully,
-he put out his hand to touch the fruit and feel its delicious juicy
-coolness in his hollow hand. In connection with the youthful scene
-arising before him there was a half-forgotten musical memory the
-uncertain trail of which he was dreamily following. Now his eyes begin
-to shine, they wander restlessly here and there; a thought had seized
-him, and he is eagerly following it. Absentmindedly he takes hold of
-the orange once more; it breaks from the branch, and he holds it in
-his hand. He does not see it; so far is he absorbed in his artistic
-preoccupation that he turns and twirls the fragrant fruit under his
-nose, moving his lips inaudibly to some newly-caught melody. At last,
-without knowing what he does, he takes a small enamelled case out of
-a pocket of his coat, pulls out a silver-handled knife, and slowly
-cuts the golden ball in two. Perhaps he was led by a vague feeling of
-thirst, but the delicious fragrance seemed to satisfy his stimulated
-senses. For moments he gazed fixedly at the two inner surfaces, then
-gently put them together, very gently separated, and joined them once
-more.
-
-Suddenly he heard steps approaching; he started, and the consciousness
-of where he was and of what he had done dawned upon him. He was about
-to hide the orange, but desisted immediately, impelled by pride or by
-the knowledge that it was too late. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a
-livery, the Count’s gardener, stood before him. He had evidently seen
-the last suspicious motion, and looked at him dubiously. Mozart was
-silent also, and felt as if he were nailed to his seat; he glanced
-up with a half-laugh and a visible blush, but at the same time there
-was a look of undaunted frankness in his large blue eyes; then with a
-petulant air of courageous audacity, which would have been absurdly
-funny to an unconcerned looker-on, he put the orange, apparently
-uninjured, in the middle of the table before him.
-
-“Begging your pardon,” said the gardener, now repressing his
-indignation, after having inspected the unpromising garb of the
-stranger, “I do not know with whom I have the honour----”
-
-“Kapellmeister Mozart from Vienna.”
-
-“Doubtless you are an acquaintance of the Count?”
-
-“I am a stranger here, passing through the village merely. Is the Count
-at home?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“The Countess?”
-
-“Is occupied, and it is unlikely she will see any one.”
-
-Mozart arose and seemed about to go.
-
-“I beg your pardon, sir,--by what right did you help yourself in this
-garden?”
-
-“What?” cried Mozart; “help myself? The devil! do you believe I wanted
-to steal and eat that thing here?”
-
-“Sir, I believe what I see. These fruits are counted, and I am
-responsible. This tree is designed by the Count to figure at an
-entertainment; just now it was to be carried away. I cannot let you go
-before having made mention of this affair, and before you explain how
-this happened.”
-
-“Well, then, I will wait here. You may depend upon it.”
-
-The gardener looked around doubtfully, and Mozart, thinking he might be
-manœuvring for a fee, put his hand in his pocket, but there was not a
-coin in it.
-
-Two lads came up now, lifted the tree upon a barrow, and carried it
-away. Meanwhile our Meister had pulled out his note-book, and while the
-gardener did not leave his side, he wrote--
-
-“GNÄDIGSTE FRAU,--Here I sit, a poor unfortunate, in your paradise,
-like Adam after having tasted the apple. The evil is done, and I
-cannot even seek refuge by throwing the guilt upon the shoulders of
-gentle Eve, for the latter is sleeping the sleep of innocence at the
-inn guarded by the Graces and Cupids of a four-post bed. You have but
-to command, and I will personally give your Grace an account of my
-incomprehensible offence. In sincere contrition, your most obedient
-servant,
-
-  W. A. MOZART (on the way to Prague).”
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-While this was passing in the schloss, our prisoner, not greatly
-concerned about the final result, had occupied himself with waiting.
-But as no one appeared, he began to walk up and down uneasily; then
-there came an urgent message from the inn to tell him dinner was ready,
-and would he please come at once, the postillion was anxious to get
-started. He picked up his things, and was about to leave without
-further ceremony, when the two gentlemen appeared before the arbour.
-
-The Count greeted him as he would an old acquaintance, with a ringing,
-sonorous voice, did not listen to his apologies, but at once expressed
-his desire to have the couple for his guests. “You are, my dear
-_maistro_, no stranger to us; indeed I may say that the name of Mozart
-is heard nowhere more frequently and with greater fervour. My niece
-plays and sings, spends nearly the whole day at her piano, knows your
-works by heart, and has the greatest desire to approach you personally,
-as she could not do in your concerts last winter. As we are going to
-Vienna for a few weeks, her relatives had promised her an invitation
-from Prince Gallizin, where you are often to be found. But it seems you
-are going to Prague, and there is no knowing when you will come back.
-Rest with us for a day or two! We will send your carriage back, and you
-will have the kindness to permit me to see to the continuation of your
-journey.”
-
-The composer, who was always willing to bring friendship or pleasure
-any sacrifice ten times as great as was here demanded, gladly complied
-for this half-day, at the same time setting his departure most
-definitely for the next morning. Count Max asked to be permitted to
-escort Frau Mozart from the inn, and to give the necessary orders
-there....
-
-  _Edward Mörike_ (1804-1875).
-
-
-
-
-_A RABID PHILOSOPHER._
-
-
-AT last I fell asleep, but it was only to be awakened at dawn by
-resounding footsteps passing to and fro in the adjoining room,
-intermingled with sounds from which I judged that there was an
-impatient searching of drawers or tables, and in every corner of the
-apartment. The hurrying and rummaging grew more violent, a soliloquy
-which at first softly accompanied the movements grew louder and louder,
-and gradually passed into exclamations of rage, and at last into a
-volley of oaths, which was not exactly in a Christian spirit, and which
-was accompanied by a savage stamping and bellowing. It seemed to me
-the man had gone mad. I dressed myself hastily, knocked at the door,
-and in my excitement, forgetting all form, I entered the room without
-awaiting his call. With flashing eyes the occupant darted at me as if
-about to seize me by my throat; suddenly he controlled himself, stood
-stock-still before me, gave me a penetrating glance, and said with
-quiet severity, “Sir, an unconscious thirst for knowledge has brought
-you to this room.” My conscience reproaching me for my breach of good
-manners, I was disarmed, and merely said “Yes,” in a dejected tone.
-I then asked him what for heaven’s sake was the matter with him. A.
-E.--for brevity’s sake I will henceforth call my fellow-traveller
-so--falling back into his fit of violence, cried in a voice of thunder,
-“My spectacles, my spectacles! They’ve seen fit to go and hide
-themselves--to say nothing at present of the key, the little devil!”
-
-“So you are merely looking for your spectacles? Is this an object
-worthy of such rage? Don’t you know what it is to be patient?”
-
-He was about to fly at me again, but, controlling himself once more,
-he merely looked at me and said: “Screw-drivers? cork-screws?”
-
-“What do you mean by that?”
-
-“I dreamed I had a wife--horrible to relate. I laughed at her for
-reading papers without cutting the leaves, and for putting up for
-years with a drawer that would not go. Thereupon she gave me a sermon
-on patience, and required me to exercise myself in that virtue by
-wearing screws and screw-drivers on my coat instead of buttons and
-button-holes, suggesting that they might be quite ornamental if made
-out of oxidised metal; or she said I might have corks, which I would
-be obliged to remove by means of a cork-screw every time I wished
-to unbutton my coat. Ah, pshaw! a woman is quite capable of putting
-a cover upon a dressing-case in such a manner that it will catch
-every time the upper drawer is opened and shut. Sir, a woman has
-_time_ for the struggle with the villain called matter; she lives
-in this struggle, it is her element; a man has no business to have
-time for this, he needs his patience for things that are _worthy_ of
-patience. It is an imposition to expect him to waste either for what is
-worthless, an imposition against which he may, can, and must rage! You
-must know that. You must know that these unworthy objects, these hooks
-and crooks of matter, never get entangled with your destiny except
-when you are in most desperate haste to complete something which is
-necessary and reasonable! Miserable gimcrack, worthless button or ball
-of twine, or string to my eye-glasses that gets twisted about one of
-the buttons of my vest just at the very moment when it is necessary to
-look over a time-table in small type at the railway station, I have
-no time, no time for ye! And if I were to set a thousand leeches on
-eternity, they would not draw out a single moment of time for ye!”
-
-“But what is the use of all this bluster?”
-
-“Oh, insipid! Was it of no use to Luther--if you are going to talk
-about use--to rail at the devil? Don’t you know what it is to disburden
-your poor soul? Have you never heard of the precious balm that lies in
-a good round oath?”
-
-[Illustration: “I TOOK THE EXASPERATED MAN AND POINTED SILENTLY TO THE
-SPOT.”]
-
-The evil spirit took possession of him anew; he rushed about the room
-in another paroxysm of rage pouring out a volley of abuse upon his poor
-innocent spectacles. Meanwhile I looked about the floor; I picked up
-a couple of shirts that were clean, but terribly messed, and my eyes
-fell upon a mouse-hole in the boards. It seemed to me I saw something
-glitter there; I looked closer, and the discovery was made. I took the
-exasperated man by his arm and pointed silently to the spot. He gazed
-at it, recognised his missing glasses, and remarked: “Look at them
-well! Do you notice the sneer, the demoniac triumph in that evil glassy
-leer? Out with the entrapped monster!”
-
-It was not easy to pull the spectacles out of the hole; the trouble
-was really out of proportion to the value of the object. At last we
-succeeded; he held them out at arm’s-length, dropped them from there,
-cried in a solemn voice, “Sentence of death! _Supplicium!_” raised his
-foot, and crushed them with his heel, shivering them to bits.
-
-“That’s all very well,” I said, after a pause of astonishment; “but now
-you have no spectacles.”
-
-“No matter. At any rate this imp has met with a just retribution after
-years of indescribable malignity. Look you!” He pulled out his watch;
-it was a very common one--in fact, one of the lowest products of the
-horological industry. “In place of this honest, faithful creature,” he
-continued, “I once had a gold repeater, which, I may truly say, cost
-a deal of money. It requited this sacrifice for years and years with
-untold malice; it never would go right; it made a point of falling down
-and hiding; the crystals broke constantly, thereby nearly reducing me
-to pauperism; at last the monster conspired with the hook of my gold
-watch-chain, and the two together entered into an intrigue against me.
-As for the hook, sir, there is much that might be said on that subject.
-The insidiousness of objects in general--I should like to talk to you
-about that, sir, but I fear I should discourse at some length--the
-insidiousness, I say, is expressed so visibly in the villainous
-physiognomy of hooks that one cannot be too much on one’s guard in
-having anything to do with these fiendish features. One is apt to
-think: ‘I know you, the wicked crookedness of your outer form betrays
-you, you shall not get the better of me;’ and then this very sense of
-security misleads one into being unwary. It is quite the reverse with
-other objects. Who, for instance, would suspect a simple button of any
-evil design?”
-
-I begged him to finish the tragic story about his watch and hook.
-
-“Ah, yes! Well, one night the hook crept softly across the small table,
-upon which I had carefully laid my watch, and artfully entwined itself
-into the seam of my pillow-case. I did not want the pillow. I lifted it
-suddenly and flung it to the foot-end of the bed, the watch of course
-going with it. In a noble arch it went flying through the air, struck
-the wall, and fell to the ground with a broken crystal. This was the
-last straw. I crushed it in cold blood like these criminal spectacles;
-the imp gave forth a sound, a hiss like a persecuted mouse; I swear to
-you that it was a sound quite outside the realm of physical nature. I
-then went and bought this modest timepiece for an absurdly low sum.
-Look at this faithful creature; note the expression of honesty in these
-homely features; for twenty years it has served me with steadfast
-fidelity; yes, I may say it has never given me any cause for complaint.
-The gold watch-chain I gave to my footman, the hook was condemned to
-die a shameful death in the sewer, and I wear my faithful turnip on
-this gentle silken cord.”
-
-During this detailed account he had grown quite tranquil, and now
-placidly continued----
-
-“Now for the story of this black hour! Look at this key”--he pulled
-out a small key, probably belonging to his valise--“and then at this
-candlestick!”--he held up the metal candlestick upside down close
-before my eyes, so that I could see a hollow place in the foot--“what
-do you think, what do you suppose, what do you say?”
-
-“How am I to know?”
-
-“For the space of a good half-hour I have looked for that key this
-morning. I nearly lost my senses; at last I found it, like this, do you
-see?”
-
-He laid the key upon the little stand by his bed, and set the
-candlestick down upon it; the key just fitted the place under the foot.
-
-“Now tell me who would suspect this, who would be capable of such
-superhuman circumspection as to foresee and avoid such infernal
-tricks on the part of the object! And is this what I live for? Am I
-to waste the precious bit of time I have in such a slavish search for
-a bagatelle? To search and search, and to search again! One should
-never say A. or B. has lived for such and such a time,--not lived, but
-searched! And I am very, very punctual, believe me!”
-
-“Ah, yes, life is a perpetual search,” I said, with a sigh which might
-be taken to refer to the trials of life, while in truth it was called
-forth by the _ennui_ which this detailed occupation with the bagatelle
-had caused. This accounted for my flat remark, the sole object of which
-was to change the subject at all hazards.
-
-I little knew to whom I was talking. “What, sir, symbolic?” he said.
-“And I suppose you think that is deeper! Ah, oh!”
-
-“Well, what now?”
-
-“You see, my dear sir, to search in a symbolical sense, to think that
-all of life is but a searching, that is not what I complain of, that
-is not what you should sigh about. The ethical goes without saying. An
-honest fellow will search and yearn and never complain, but be happy in
-the midst of this misery of an ever-rising and never-terminating line.
-That is our upper storey. But what we have to take along with it, the
-vexation and bother we must put up with in the lower storey of life,
-that is what I am talking of. There, for instance, is the necessity of
-searching, which makes you mad, nervous, insane. And, what is more, it
-strands you in Atheism. The dear God sitting on high and counting the
-hairs on our head, who sees me searching for my spectacles for hours at
-a time, he sees the spectacles too, knows just where they are,--can you
-bear it, the thought of how he must laugh? A kind, omnipotent Being!
-Do you think such a one would permit the curse of colds in your head?
-Alas, we are born to search, to undo knots, to sneeze and cough and
-spit! Man, with a proud world within his arched brows, with his beaming
-eyes, his spirit dipping into the depth and breadth of infinitude, with
-his soul rising on silver wings into the heavens, with his imagination
-pouring streams of golden fire over hill and vale and transforming the
-image of mortality to God, with his will, the flashing sword within his
-hand to adjust, to judge, to conquer, with pious patience to plant, to
-cherish, and watch over the tree of life that it may grow and flourish
-and bear heavenly fruit of noble culture, Man with the angelic image of
-the divine and beautiful within his longing, yearning bosom,--yes, this
-same Man, changed to a mollusc, his throat a grating-iron, a nest of
-devils, tickling the larynx with finest needles for nights and nights,
-his eyes dim, his brain heavy, dull, perturbed, his nerves poisoned,
-and, with all that, not considered ill; and you say that God----!”
-
-Here our denier of the existence of God was seized with so deplorable
-a fit of sneezing and coughing that I repressed a remark I had upon my
-tongue.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Upon entering I noticed that he cast an uneasy glance all about the
-floor of the dining-hall; he seemed much relieved when in one corner
-he noticed a small object which may be of service to coughing persons.
-In a tone of supreme content he remarked, “This room is really very
-well furnished;” and from that time he seemed to be in tolerably good
-humour. As is common at the Swiss hotels, breakfast had been placed
-upon the table awaiting whoever should come to partake of it, and A.
-E., having pushed the butter and honey aside with some violence, helped
-himself freely. We were alone in the room, but soon another tourist
-entered. He was a middle-aged man, attired in a duster of unbleached
-linen, with a short cape hanging over his shoulders, and carrying a
-knapsack of some weight on his back. There were drops of perspiration
-visible upon his brow; it appeared evident that he had walked for some
-hours that morning. He laid down his burden, put his bulky umbrella
-in a corner, sat down at the other end of the table, pulled his chair
-up, took out his glasses, carefully looked at everything that had
-been set upon the table, seemed to quite approve of the completeness
-of things that go to make up an English breakfast, and then, with all
-the appearance of a soul conscious that the body belonging thereto
-had severely earned its breakfast, began the enjoyable task of
-cutting and spreading some slices of bread. It was easy to see that
-the man belonged to the class of scholars, and his pale complexion
-led me to judge that he was one of those tourists who strive to make
-up by pedestrian exertions for the harm they have done their bodies
-throughout the year by sedentary habits.
-
-A. E., who had meanwhile appeased his appetite, seemed to be in no
-special haste to depart. He lit a cigar, and said to me, “You admit,
-then, that physics is at bottom synonymous with metaphysics, the
-science of the spiritual. That is, I take for granted that you admit
-it, although I have not yet proved it to you philosophically, for you
-have surely recognised the universal insidiousness, ay, animosity of
-matter, what physical science has heretofore insipidly named the law of
-gravity, statics, etc., while it is in truth to be explained merely as
-demoniacal possession.”
-
-Meanwhile the stranger had split a long roll lengthwise with dexterity
-and precision, and was occupied in spreading on the butter with
-great regard to perfect smoothness and evenness; he made a moment’s
-pause at the last words, casting a peculiar glance from under his
-bushy eye-brows over to our end of the table, and then thoughtfully
-continued his plastic occupation, wagging his head now and then with an
-expression of ironical surprise. The thought came to me that A. E. had
-designs upon the stranger. But I concluded that it was not the case.
-He had given him but a cursory glance as he entered, though it was a
-glance which might be supposed to grasp the personality before him, for
-his eye was wont to seize what it looked upon as if there were a strong
-hand within it; at the same time there was no sign of his paying any
-attention to the unknown.
-
-“Friend,” he continued, “have you noticed how a piece of falling paper
-will mock us? Are they not graceful, the sneering motions with which
-it flutters back and forth? Does not every turn tell you with elegant,
-voluptuous nonchalance that you are beaten? Oh, matter lies ever in
-waiting. I sit down cheerfully after breakfast to begin my work, never
-suspecting the enemy. I dip in my pen, there’s a hair in it; that
-is the way it begins. The fiend will not come out; I get ink on my
-fingers, the paper gets stained. I look for another sheet, then for a
-book, and so on; in short, my blessed morning is gone. From early dawn
-until late at night, so long as there is a human being about, matter is
-on the alert to play him a trick. The only way to do is to treat it as
-the lion-tamer does the beast whose cage he has ventured to enter--he
-meets its gaze and the beast meets his. To talk about the moral power
-of a human being is all nonsense, a mere fairy-tale; no, the steady
-gaze only tells the brute that the man is on his guard, and gaze
-against gaze the monster lurks to see if for one single moment he will
-forget himself. So lurks all matter, lead-pencils, pens, inkstand,
-paper, cigar, glass, lamp--all, all for the moment when you are not
-watching. But, ye saints! who can ever do it? Who has time? And like
-the tiger that leaps upon its unfortunate victim the moment he knows
-himself to be unnoticed, so does matter, drat it! sometimes clumsily,
-sometimes subtly, as the case may be. Diabolically subtle, for
-instance, was the bit of iron filing that landed in my eye the morning
-I was about to start out on my tour. Oh, believe me, when a respectable
-person is going a-travelling all the devils hold an œcumenical council
-to defeat him. But one of the favourite tricks dear to the heart of all
-objects is to creep stealthily to the edge, and drop down from a height
-to slip out of your hand--you forget yourself but a single moment and
-there goes----”
-
-At this moment we heard a slight sound at the end where the other man
-was sitting; we saw him dodge hastily under the table, and then emerge
-with an object in his hand, which he looked upon in evident distress,
-and then with deep dejection. It was his roll, spread first with butter
-and then with honey in the most accurate and approved manner, and, “of
-course,” as A. E. would say, it had fallen upon the buttered side.
-
-It was with a great effort that I overcame a strong desire to laugh,
-for it seemed exactly as if there had been a mystic primordial relation
-between his words and the disaster. A. E. glanced across the table with
-perfect gravity, and gently nodded his head without a vestige of irony;
-nay, rather, with an expression of sympathy, as much as to say: we poor
-mortals know all about it. The stranger shot not only one but a whole
-battery of venomous glances over to our side, and sullenly set to work
-to produce a fit successor to the incurable roll.
-
-A. E. continued quietly: “Then too I don’t like that business about
-that _thing_, or rather the two things, that Kant called the pure form
-of _à priori_ perception.”
-
-“Space and time?”
-
-“That’s it. What is space but an impertinent arrangement by means of
-which I am forced to remove A before putting B here” (he illustrated
-it with cups, dishes, and bottles, which were rather closely set upon
-the table), “and to make room for A put C somewhere else, and so on _ad
-infinitum_----? And time? That is what you never have for anything.
-For, ye gods and little fishes! is that what we live for to have need
-of ten motions for things that are not worthy of one!”
-
-[Illustration: “WE SAW HIM EMERGE WITH AN OBJECT IN HIS HAND.”]
-
-The stranger now shook his head with more violence, laughing
-petulantly, and a vague unrest seemed to take possession of his legs.
-
-A. E. rambled on. “At other times,” he continued, “the reverse action
-takes place. Things go together that don’t belong together. Do you know
-one of the most pestiferous forms of going along? When a precious sheet
-belonging to manuscript A manages to become attached to manuscript B,
-and slips into the wrong drawer, and declines to be found for days and
-weeks and years, while you are searching for it in rage and despair
-and impotent frenzy. Compared to that such a thing as the well-known
-slipping under your chair of a lady’s dress is but a little playful
-pleasantry on the part of the devil-ridden object, albeit it is
-interesting as a fact sufficient to defeat our nonsensical science of
-physics, for who could ever explain such a thing mechanically?”
-
-Here the stranger jumped up with the exclamation, “This is too much!”
-came upon us with heavy strides, planted himself firmly before A. E.,
-and cried in a voice of thunder, “Sir, I would have you to know that
-I am a Professor of Physics! And, moreover, you have, so to speak,
-knocked my roll out of my hand!”
-
-A. E. gave the man a long, contemplative look and was silent. Who could
-tell how this was coming out? Suddenly a crimson flush came into his
-face, his eyes sparkled, he jumped up, and I, not knowing my man very
-well as yet, was beginning to fear for the peace, when he with enormous
-strides, ay, with leaps like a panther, rushed straight across the room
-towards the corner which held the article before delicately referred
-to, and now followed a fit of coughing and sneezing intermingled with
-strange, wild, gurgling sounds, a perfect storm of rasping, rumbling,
-rattling, snarling, groaning, and barking tones; it was like a chorus
-of infernal spirits. It took considerable time for this terrific
-natural phenomenon to pass over; then the sufferer feebly raised his
-head, seized his hat, bag, and cane, and said to me in a pitiful,
-broken treble, “Will you have the goodness to appease the gentleman?
-Good morning to you both.”
-
-  _Friedrich Theodor Vischer_ (1807-1889).
-
-
-
-
-_HIS SERENITY WILL BUILD A PALACE._
-
-[Illustration: “HIS HIGHNESS ADOLF FRIEDRICH IV. TREMBLED FROM TOP TO
-TOE.”]
-
-
-IT was in the year 1700 and something or other, on a pleasant
-May day about bed-time, that his Serene Highness the Duke of
-Mecklenberg-Strelitz, Adolf Friedrich, fourth of the name, and his
-dear sister, the Princess Christel, were sitting side by side in
-their palace telling each other true ghost stories, thrilling yarns
-that nobody under the sun would have believed if they hadn’t really
-happened; and they both sat shivering, more especially his Serenity
-Adolf Friedrich.
-
-Suddenly through the still summer evening there came a sound across the
-lake, a most uncanny sound, a sound that none but the most masculine
-ghost would be guilty of to frighten a poor mortal out of his seven
-wits. With a hollow cadence long drawn out did it pass over the whole
-of Neu-Strelitz, and the princely pair could not for the life of them
-say whether it came from up in the air or from underneath the earth.
-It was all the same anyhow, it was gruesome enough either way. His
-Highness Adolf Friedrich IV. trembled from top to toe, and Princess
-Christel, who was confoundedly resolute for a woman, had just enough
-presence of mind left to catch hold of a silver bell and ring and
-storm with might and main. Why she did it she couldn’t have told you,
-but at any rate it brought human aid to the spot. Rand, the _valet
-de chambre_, and Von Knüppelsdörp, the gentleman of the bed-chamber,
-came rushing in to ask the why and wherefor. Princess Christel was
-just able to motion the two to a chair, and so the four of them sat
-staring at each other in dead silence, and none of them knew what was
-the matter except that they saw his Serenity had the shivers. All at
-once the sound came again, and as it was dying away over Neu-Strelitz
-in its hollow weirdness Adolf Friedrich IV. clapped his hands over his
-most serene ears and cried, “There it is again!” Von Knüppelsdörp,
-gentleman of the bed-chamber, took the words out of the mouth of
-Rand, the _valet_, on the strength of the Mecklenborgian regulations
-concerning rank, and remarked, “Your Highness, it’s the bittern.” And
-the Princess Christel had just enough presence of mind to ask what new
-kind of spook that might be. And the gentleman of the bed-chamber
-said it was no spook at all, it was only a bird that took a devilish
-sort of delight in frightening honest folk by putting his beak in the
-swampy ground and then bellowing like a good one. I’m sure I don’t know
-whether he was right, but he ought to have known, for he was also page
-of the hunt. But his Serenity did not take much stock in what he said,
-and after having meditated a bit he remarked, “All good spirits praise
-the Lord; and as for you, Rand, I want you to sleep with me this coming
-night.” With that he left the room.
-
-Princess Christel sat a bit longer with the gentleman of the
-bed-chamber, discussing the question what potent charms she should
-employ to banish the ghost for the coming night, and who should
-sleep with her, for her lady-in-waiting, Caroline Soltmanns, was an
-old superstitious chatterer, and at last she came to the conclusion
-that it would be by far the best thing she could do to invite the
-scrubbing-maid Wendula Steinhagens for the night. Wendula was a d--d
-plucky person, who was not afraid of the devil nor of his Serenity the
-Duke, for she had been known to say, “Hallo there, your Highness; get
-out of the way, will you!” And had flourished her broom in his face.
-
-So the princely pair had passed the night safely under the tender care
-of Rand and Wendula, and were sitting at the breakfast table next
-morning drinking chocolate. Then did his Serenity come forth with his
-deep thoughts and remark, “Sister Christel, you are a woman, and you
-know I don’t think much of ’em; but you are a member of our most serene
-house, and for this reason, and on this account, I will make known to
-you the measures of my government. Would you know the news? I’ll build
-me a new palace on some pleasant spot in my domains.”
-
-“That’s right, your Grace,” said she. “You are lord of the whole; but
-how will the money hold out?”
-
-“Oh, I’ve thought of all that,” said his Serenity; “but what have
-I got my bailiffs for? They must help me out of the lurch, and the
-workmen can wait awhile for their pay; for it is scandalous that
-Serenissimus Streliziensis should have to endure a spook under his very
-nose. To be sure, that fool Knüppelsdörp says it’s a bittern,--but what
-is a bittern? I’ll believe anything, but to believe an explanation like
-that is more than can be expected of me in my quality as sovereign
-lord.”
-
-“Rand,” he said to his _valet de chambre_, “tell Jochen Boenhas to
-hitch up the gilt coach, three footmen on behind, and the two runners
-to run ahead; the coachman and the footmen to put on their best livery
-with the gilt tassels, and the two runners shall wear their new
-flowered hats from Paris--_à la Pompadour_,” he added aside to his
-sister--“for I am going on a journey through my estates.”
-
-“Dear me, your Honour,” said Rand, “I’m afraid that won’t do, for our
-old mare that goes as the off-horse has the spavin, and can’t set one
-foot before the other.”
-
-“Confound the mare!” exclaimed his Serene Highness in a burst of
-displeasure. “If the mare can’t go, all you have to do is to go to our
-Burgher Sachtleben and borrow one of his horses.”
-
-“Dear me, your Honour, he won’t let us have it. This is just the
-busiest time for carting manure, and it’s no wonder he can’t spare his
-team.”
-
-“Do as I bid you, Rand; we are sovereign lord.”
-
-And Rand went, and Sachtleben gave him his old stiff bay horse to
-harness on the resplendent state chariot.
-
-Jochen Boenhas pulled up before the door with his gilt coach, three
-lackeys jumped up behind one after the other, the two runners floated
-along the street; Rand sat on the box, and his Serene Highness and
-sister Christel sat inside the coach.
-
-“Where to?” asked Jochen Boenhas.
-
-“Straight ahead,” said Rand; “over beyond Stargard, up to our
-boundary-line; but don’t for the life of you drive over the line, for
-we are only going to travel through our own domain.”
-
-And Jochen Boenhas drove through Stargard and through Frieland up to
-the Prussian line, and pulled up his horses: “Whoa, whoa I say! Here we
-are at the end!”
-
-[Illustration: “SACHTLEBEN GAVE HIM HIS OLD STIFF BAY HORSE.”]
-
-And his Serene Highness gave orders to drive to the east over Woldegk;
-and when they had passed Woldegk and reached Wolfshagen, Jochen
-Coachman turned around once more on his old horse and said, “Rand,
-here’s the end again, we can’t go any further.”
-
-And Princess Christel, who had overheard it, said: “Your Grace, this
-is the first time I have travelled through our estates; I’d never have
-thought it was such a short way.”
-
-“Christel,” said his Serene Highness, “you’re a woman, and you don’t
-know much. What do you suppose? There’s a good lot more toward noon.
-Feldberg and Mirow and Fürstenberg, all that is in my domain, and then
-beyond Mirow there’s quite a lengthy bit stretching into our neighbour
-Schwerin’s possessions that makes a good show.”
-
-“Nay, your Highness,” said Rand, who had overheard, “it doesn’t make
-much of a show, for the sand just pours into a person’s eyes, as _I_
-ought to know, for I was born and bred there.”
-
-His Serene Highness very nearly lost his temper at Rand’s foolish
-twaddle. He leaned far out of the gilt coach, and called out: “Jochen
-Boenhas, we’ll go home now! And to-morrow we’ll take the Fürstenberg
-hemlock grove and Mirow.”
-
-And it was done exactly as his Serene Highness had said, for he was a
-high-spirited prince, and when he had once said, “I say!” then sure
-enough he _had_ said it.
-
-So the next day they went beyond Fürstenberg to the hemlock grove,
-and when Rand turned to look into the carriage and say, “Your Grace,
-here we are at the end again,” then his Serenity looked sinister, and
-shouted “Wesenbarg!” to console himself; but in spite of Wesenbarg, he
-came back to Neu-Strelitz in an utterly discontented spirit, and Rand
-and sister Christel stood in the hall together, shaking their heads and
-saying, “Where will this end?”
-
-And the evening and the morning were the third day, and his Highness
-did not reign during that night, for he slept. The bitterns kept
-silent, and all the ghosts that had of late taken to haunting the
-palace at Neu-Strelitz had their off-night.
-
-The next morning the _valet de chambre_ came down to the princess
-and said: “Thank goodness! we have slept in peace for one night, and
-reigned right along without let or hindrance, and to-day we are going
-to travel westward, toward Neu-Brandenburg, and that finishes up the
-whole business.”
-
-And Princess Christel said, “The Lord be praised! Then he will have
-peace; he is too ambitious a prince.” And three hours later they passed
-the inn near Neu-Brandenburg, and Sachtleben’s old bay horse, having
-got to the end of his rope, one of the innkeeper’s horses was hitched
-up, and his Serene Highness walked up and down before the door, and
-looked across the sunny lake over to the woods of Broda, and said to
-his sister Christel in High German--for the innkeeper’s wife stood
-near, and he must needs show her his Serenity at its finest--
-
-“What say you, Princess? Shall we build our Belvedere on the other side
-of this pleasant lake?”
-
-Princess Christel was about to reply, but Rand intercepted her and
-said--
-
-“Your Highness is always right; of course we’ll have a Bellmandur! All
-people of degree have a Bellmandur except us!”
-
-And his Serene Highness said: “Rand is right.” And so they drove into
-Neu-Brandenburg.
-
-Having reached this pearl of his possessions, and coming up in fine
-style on the market-place, he called out of the gilt carriage: “Rand,
-tell Jochen Boenhas to stop!” And with that he and his sister Christel
-descended from the coach, and Rand from the box, and the three lackeys
-from their seat, and the two runners stood panting.
-
-And then said his Serene Highness Adolf Friedrich IV.: “This suits us
-right well, and here we will build our palace!”
-
-Her Highness Sister Christel opened her mouth to say something, but
-his Highness the liege lord took the words out of her mouth and said:
-“Princess Christel, what more would your Grace have? Are you still
-critical? Look yonder.” For the time being he was surrounded by a
-circle of his most devoted subjects, and though these were mostly small
-street urchins, he felt constrained thereby to speak High German to his
-sister. “Look, yonder, by the side of the mansion-house, we’ll put it
-up.”
-
-And Princess Christel said: “_Cela me convient!_ And I hope your
-Highness will have a couple of wings put on, and I will go and live in
-one of them.”
-
-“That’s just what you won’t do, Sister Christel,” said his most Serene
-Highness, turning on his heel. “Don’t make plans, and then they won’t
-miscarry! I don’t want any womankind with their chit-chat and nonsense
-in this new palace. I’ve had a deal too much of that at Neu-Strelitz.
-Rand!” he called; “go and find the two Burgomasters; and you,” he said
-to two of the footmen, “go and cite the aldermen; tell them _I_ wish
-to consult them, _I_, their liege lord. You are to stay here,” he said
-to the third lackey; “it will not do to strip ourselves entirely of
-attendance.”
-
-And thereupon he walked up and down with his sister, and did not so
-much as notice that she made a wry face and protruded her nether-lip;
-and the lackey trotted behind them.
-
-  _Fritz Reuter_ (1810-1874).
-
-
-
-
-_HIS SERENITY AND THE THUNDER-STORM._
-
-
-ON his way to school the Konrektor felt so cheery and good-natured that
-his pupils might have expected to have a good day. As he stepped into
-the schoolroom he had the pleasant surprise of seeing a complete Roman
-battle before him, which his precious boys were carrying out in honour
-of Livy, and probably to give him an unexpected pleasure, and the noise
-they made was as natural as if the room were full of genuine Roman
-soldiers and genuine horses.
-
-It was all very well for the boys, but it was not quite befitting
-the quiet which is supposed to reign in a schoolroom; nor was it the
-best means of allaying the flushed spirits of a schoolmaster who had
-his own private troubles to contend with. The Herr Konrektor sat down
-on his platform, opened his Homer, and when the noise had somewhat
-subsided, he gave vent to his ire: “Now listen, you dunces; first learn
-something, then you’ll be better able to play heroes! Last time we
-stopped just before the splendid passage where Hector said good-bye to
-his dear wife Andromache, and she exhorts him--
-
-“Δαιμόνιε, says she; φθισει σε τὸ σὸν μένος, οὐδ’ἐλεαιρεις, says she;
-but it’s hardly worth while to read anything so fine to you
-scatterbrained dolts. παῑδά τε νηπίαχον, says she; και ἒμ ἂμμορον,
-ἣ τάχα χὴρη, says she. Karl Wendt, confound you, if you don’t stop
-talking I’ll stand you up by my platform, and then it’ll be _my_
-turn to have a talk with you. σεῦ ἔσομαι, says she, τὰχα γάρ σε
-κατακτανέουσιν Ἀχαιοὶ πάντες ἐρορμηφθέντες, says she; ὲμοὶ δέ κε
-κέρδιον εἴη σεῦ ἀραμαρτοῦση, and so on, says she.--Langnickel, you
-begin.”
-
-And Langnickel cleared his throat once or twice and nudged his
-neighbours right and left with his elbows, as much as to say: “Fellows,
-help me; I’m in an awful fix.”
-
-“Well,” said the Konrektor, “how long before you’re ready?
-Δαιμόνιε--what does that mean?”
-
-“_Oh, thou monster!_” said Langnickel, looking at the Herr Konrektor
-very doubtfully to see what he would say.
-
-“It’s more likely you are a monster. The next, go on,” said the
-Konrektor, pointing to Karl Siemsen. “Well, Karl! Eh? the word’s not
-easy; how do we call a fellow that can do more than ordinary folks?”
-
-“A Tausendsasa,” said Karl.
-
-“Well, I never! We may say that for a joke, but do you suppose Hector’s
-wife felt much like joking just then? Nay, she is scolding him. You
-madcap you, says she, bridle your pluck! says she. Have you no pity
-for your little boy--she means her little Astyanax that she has on her
-arm,--and for poor luckless me, says she, who will soon enough be a
-widow? For how long will it be? says she, before the Archæans pitch
-in on you and kill you, and what is left to me but sorrow when I sit
-here without you? says she. Well, here I am translating the whole of
-Homer for you. Go ahead, Karl Siemsen!” he exclaimed, then the door was
-opened, and one of his Serene Highness’s lackeys came in.
-
-“Herr Konrektor, his Highness wants to know if you think we’ll get a
-thunder-storm to-day?”
-
-Now this was the last straw for the Konrektor’s patience. He turned
-upon the fellow in a mad choler and shouted, “Yes! Go and tell his
-Highness we’ll get seven.”
-
-“Seven?” asked the lackey, looking blank and walking toward the door,
-and the Konrektor called after him: “Yes, seven! Tell him we’ll get
-seven!”
-
-The first lesson was over and the second had begun; it was Latin, and
-there was Virgil’s _Bucolica_ to translate.
-
-The Herr Konrektor had in the meantime taken a look at the weather, and
-now he was quite sure there was a storm coming up; his pupils had taken
-a look at his face, and they also knew for sure that there was a storm
-brewing; they were only doubtful where the lightning would strike. This
-question was about to be solved in a drastic manner when his Serenity
-sent the lackey once more:
-
-“Herr Konrektor, his Highness wants you to come to him at once. The
-storm is coming mighty fast.”
-
-“Tell his Highness,” cried the Konrektor in a rage, and was about to
-add, “to remember me to his grandmother,” but he recalled himself and
-said: “First I must be through school, then I’ll come.”
-
-At the palace things had gone on queerly enough for a while; his most
-Serene Highness walked up and down in his apartments with pale cheeks,
-as if he were the walking ghost of the deceased Henry of the Three
-Oaks; the footmen stood in the corners and along the walls silent and
-fearful like the stage mimes when Dame Macbeth walks about washing her
-hands; the gentleman of the bed-chamber, Von Knüppelsdörp, carefully
-bolted all the windows and doors, and looked as if he were gagged.
-
-“Rand,” called his Highness in an undertone, “smoke is a good
-conductor. Are all the fires put out?”
-
-“Yes, your Highness, all except the kitchen--you know the dinner has to
-be cooked.”
-
-“We shall not dine to-day. Tell them to throw water on the fire.”
-
-“Dear me, your Highness,” Rand began, for fast-days were not much to
-his taste, not even when there was a thunder-storm.
-
-“Do you hear what I say?” cried his Highness with such alacrity that he
-frightened himself.
-
-“And there shall be no bells pulled; the sound is a good conductor,” he
-added in a lower tone.
-
-“The sound, your Highness?”
-
-“Confound you, fool! I--I say! It _might_ draw, you know!” whispered
-his Highness snappishly.
-
-“Humph,” said Rand to himself, looking out of the window with one eye,
-“we can afford to be cross; the storm isn’t high yet; later on we’ll be
-more polite.”
-
-“Goodness me,” said his Highness nervously, “why doesn’t the Konrektor
-come?”
-
-“Good gracious! what good is the Konrektor? He’s no more able to----”
-
-“He _must_ be able to, he _must_! Here, get these buckles off from my
-shoes; metal is a good conductor. Is all in order in my cabinet?”
-
-“Yes,” growled Rand, looking at the floor while trying to take the
-buckles off, “we’ve put up all the mummery, and the carpenter says it
-looks for all the world like a birdcage.”
-
-“Gracious goodness! Did you hear that? Did you hear it, I say? It’s
-here already! Where can the Konrektor be? I am going into my cabinet.
-Send for the Konrektor. Don’t go so fast! Don’t go so fast! The
-lightning will catch. Oh, goodness me!” he said quite tremulously; “and
-here I am calling so loud!”
-
-The lackey met the Konrektor on the market-place, the door was opened,
-just a trifle, according to the Duke’s orders, so that there should be
-no draught, and the Konrektor crowded in with his fox-tail and the rest
-of it. He now entered his Highness’s cabinet, and the sight he saw put
-him at first quite out of countenance. For a moment he stood bewildered
-in the door, and stared into the cabinet open-mouthed, then all at once
-he broke into a perfect roar of laughter.
-
-“What the devil have we here? Begging your Grace’s pardon! But what in
-the name of goodness can this mean?”
-
-[Illustration: “HE BROKE INTO A PERFECT ROAR OF LAUGHTER.”]
-
-And Rand laughed too, and said, “Ay, you may well say so!”
-
-I don’t know but what I should have forgotten the dutiful respect I
-owed his most Serene Highness if I had been called upon to behold
-what the Konrektor beheld. Right in the middle of the room there was
-a small platform resting on the necks of bottles, on top of that a
-sort of pavilion made of glass that came down to the floor, and roofed
-over with a light-blue silk tent, that looked like a parasol for
-fifteen persons, and in this remarkable affair sat his Highness in
-his innocent terror, clothed in a yellow silk dressing-gown, with a
-green silk nightcap on his head, and with a pair of shoes on his feet
-varnished with red sealing-wax. He looked for all the world like a
-handsome canary with a green top-knot, that had been put in a cage to
-sing a sweet song; and he might have begun singing at any moment if
-only he had felt less down at the mouth.
-
-In his quality as sovereign lord he would doubtless have sung a right
-testy little song at the Konrektor for laughing, the more so as he had
-a crow to pick with him anyway for his matrimonial intentions,[6] had
-not a sudden stroke of lightning interrupted his Highness’s sing-song.
-“What nonsense are you----?” and now came the lightning, and he clapped
-his silk handkerchief over his eyes--“Mercy on us!” and he peeped out
-from behind the handkerchief, listening for the thunder, and when it
-came he stopped up his ears and exclaimed again, “Mercy on us!”
-
-The Konrektor had stopped laughing by this time, and examined the cage
-from before and behind, and his Highness looked at him in an uncertain
-way, and asked at last--
-
-“Well, what do you say? Will it do? Glass, silk, and”--here he raised
-one of his legs--“here is sealing-wax; and I have had everything taken
-out that’s made of metal.”
-
-“Ay,” said the Konrektor, “I dare say it’s all right, your Highness;
-what man can do has been done; but, begging your pardon, the gold
-ducal crown that’s up on top of the throne you are sitting on you’ve
-forgotten.”
-
-“Didn’t I tell you so? Didn’t I tell you so? That ass, Rand. Oh, mercy
-on us!” for it lightened again.
-
-“Sheep-headed fool, you! bring another chair! I don’t want any ducal
-honours. When there’s such a storm as this I’m no more than another
-man--mercy on us!” and he held his hands over his ears. “Eh, Konrektor?”
-
-The Konrektor said he believed it; but the throne with the crown on it
-might stay there; they could wrap up the crown in a silk handkerchief.
-
-After that his Highness ordered Rand to go out and take a look at the
-weather. Rand did it, and came back: “The storm is over, but there’s
-another one all ready to burst, and it looks mighty grim.”
-
-“Rand, bring another chair in my weather-temple for the Konrektor.”
-
-“Oh, your Highness,” said the Konrektor, “I don’t need to come in.”
-
-“Ay, but _I_ need you in here; but you can’t come in like that; you’ll
-drag in the lightning. Rand, another silk dressing-gown and nightcap,
-and the red-waxed shoes!”
-
-Resistance was useless, he had to give in; and in a short time he stood
-there in a black nightcap and a bright orange bed-gown and red shoes;
-and he stood like a sorcerer in olden times, who might be supposed to
-have changed an unfortunate prince into a canary-bird, and put him
-into a glass-box, where it was likely he would have to stay for ever,
-for naught but the sweet kiss of a beauteous fairy upon his beak could
-ransom him, and his Highness was possessed of a holy horror of kissing,
-and there was no beauteous fairy near, for Rand, who was the only other
-person about, could not possibly figure as such.
-
-When the old sorcerer sat beside his enchanted victim, his Highness
-ordered Rand out, because the exhalations of so many persons might draw
-the lightning, but told him to put his head in at the door from time
-to time and give the news concerning the weather; and Rand was quite
-willing, for now he could run over to the baker’s wife and have some
-talk.
-
-“What say you, Konrektor? Is it safe now?” asked his Highness.
-
-“Ay, so far as I can see.”
-
-“But is it _quite_ safe?”
-
-“Well, your Highness, what man can do has been done; but what are
-mortal measures against the will of our Lord God?”
-
-“That’s what I say,” exclaimed his Highness; “that fool the carpenter
-was to have made it round, and he made it square. Corners always draw
-lightning.”
-
-“What good would that do? If our Lord God sees best He can blow away
-the whole of Neu-Brandenburg in a moment. Think of Sodom and Gomorrah.”
-
-“Goodness gracious! Yes, I know it, I----” Just here Rand put his head
-in at the door: “There’s another one coming, and the baker’s wife
-says----”
-
-“Fool, I don’t want to know what that impertinent woman says.”
-
-Rand retired. “That woman has a lot to say; she says too--goodness
-gracious! she says you are going to get married, Konrektor. But I
-forbid you. I’ll never set eyes on you again. I’d banish you from
-court.”
-
-“I esteem your Highness as my liege lord,” said the Konrektor, quietly
-getting up, “but whether I marry or don’t marry ought to be all the
-same to you, and I wont brook interference from any man. If you want
-to banish me from court you can do it, that’s in your power; but I can
-also go of my own free will, that’s in my power. I have the honour of
-bidding you farewell.”
-
-“Mercy on us! Do stay here; you’re the only comfort I have. Oh,
-goodness gracious!”
-
-Here Rand put his head in at the door.
-
-“Your Highness, this one is going to be pretty bad; the storm can’t
-come across the lake, and the baker’s wife says----”
-
-“You hare-brained dolt, I don’t want to know what she says. Shut the
-door and bolt it on the outside, so that he can’t get out.”
-
-“Well, your Highness,” said the Konrektor, taking off his sorcerer’s
-habit and donning his own honest coat, “you can hold me by force--that
-was a terrific clap!”
-
-“Mercy on us!--yes, that it was. Do come in here again.”
-
-“Nay, your Highness, I’m not afraid of lightning,” said the staunch old
-fellow, and gave his liege lord a quiet look. “I fear God, my judge,
-when I stand before Him as a miserable sinner, but I do not fear God,
-my father, for He knows what is good for me, and if He calls me to
-Himself by a stroke of lightning and without any suffering, then I know
-that it was an act of mercy, and I thank Him for it.”
-
-There was another awful clap, lightning and thunder falling almost
-simultaneously, and his Serene Highness screamed aloud.
-
-“Konrektor, I’ll grant ye a favour. What shall it be?”
-
-“I need only God’s favour; I don’t need any man’s favour, for all he
-may be a prince. Princely favour is the crutch that lame justice leans
-on, and when princes are gracious they are either trying to make up for
-past injustice and reap thanks for it, or they are about to commit some
-new injustice.”
-
-“You’re growing mighty bold. I’ll show you what princely disfavour is!”
-shouted his Highness in sore ire, for there had been no thunder for
-some time. “I’ll show you----”
-
-Then Rand put in his head. “Your Highness, the lightning struck a
-poplar on the embankment, the baker’s wife says, and there’s another
-storm coming up.”
-
-“Konrektor, do think up something that will help us!”
-
-“How can _I_ think up anything, your Highness. At such times when our
-Lord God is nearer than at others it is best to examine ourselves
-closely, and think of all the wrong one has done, and firmly resolve
-to undo it--that will give us courage and comfort.”
-
-“There is no man I have ever wronged,” exclaimed his Highness hastily;
-but the storm was drawing nigh, and he covered his face with his
-handkerchief once more, and cried, “Goodness gracious!”
-
-“Well, your Highness, I imagine it’s much the same with you as it is
-with the rest of us; or is that no wrong when you imprison your courier
-Halsband for no fault of his?”
-
-“My courier? He is my servant; how can a prince--mercy on us!--how can
-a prince be in the wrong against his own servant?” And again there
-was a flash of lightning, and his Highness disappeared behind his
-handkerchief. “Mercy on us! Let him go! Let the fellow go!”
-
-“Ay, your Highness, that’s all very good; but you must take the
-disgrace off from his shoulders as well.”
-
-“Mercy on us!” cried his Highness, stopping his ears because of the
-thunder. “I’m to ask his pardon, am I? No, no! The fellow----”
-
-Rand appeared. “This will be a good one.”
-
-“Run and let Halsband out of prison,” said his Highness.
-
-“And,” said the Konrektor, “give me pen and ink, and some paper.”
-
-“Here is paper and pen; but our ink is dried up. We’re not much given
-to writing, except when the cashier is here.”
-
-“That’s a fact,” said his Highness. “Mercy on us! Go and buy some ink
-immediately.” The ink came, and the Konrektor wrote.
-
-“Good gracious,” said his Highness to himself, “how can the fellow
-write in this storm!”
-
-The Konrektor got him to sign it.
-
-“Don’t you feel a vast deal better,” he said, “after this good deed?”
-
-“Not a bit of it,” said his Highness; “first the storm must be over.”
-
-The sky was clearing. Rand’s head appeared again. “Now it’s all over;
-the baker’s wife says we had seven storms.”
-
-His Highness took breath once more, and said to himself, “Seven storms!
-And he knew it before, the insolent old fellow, with his confounded
-speeches! What becomes of the deference due to the prince from his
-subject, I’d like to know? But I can’t do without him; he’s too well
-posted about the weather.”
-
-  _Fritz Reuter._
-
-
-
-
-_THE LIEUTENANT’S DINNER._
-
-
-COMING home to his bachelor quarters one day, Lieutenant Karfunkelstein
-found a note of invitation upon his library table. As he took it up
-and examined it, his chagrin was almost too great for his dignified
-self-possession. Frau von Diamant was known all over the town for her
-good dinners, and he, poor fellow, had orders to march in an hour.
-Moreover, to aggravate matters, the widow was the lady of his heart.
-He would have liked nothing better than to spend an hour or two in her
-company, and have the added gratification of dining most sumptuously.
-But there was no help for it. Love and hunger must both be set aside
-as a malignant fate had decreed. He must march, and no amount of
-railing at destiny would improve matters, however it might ease his
-much-enduring temper. So he called his man Joching, and entrusted to
-him his painful message of regrets to the widow. “And Joching, are you
-sure you understand?” “To be sure I do, sir!” replied good Joching
-dutifully, departing therewith on his errand. It occurred to the
-lieutenant then that before his march he might partake of a meal to be
-sent from his hotel. Opening the window hastily, he called after the
-departing Joching, “When you come back bring my dinner with you.”
-
-And Joching reached the lady’s house. “Well, Joching, what have you to
-tell me?” “Best compliments from my master to your gracious ladyship.
-And as for the Herr Lieutenant, he cannot come to dine to-day, for in
-little more than an hour the troop must march to Woldegk.”
-
-“Ah, what a shame. I’m sorely grieved!”
-
-And Joching still did not move from the spot; he stood twisting his
-cap and wringing it between his knuckles. The lady asks him why he
-does not go. “The dinner,” says he; “I was to take it with me.” Well,
-she was a right jolly woman who did not take a joke amiss, and quickly
-said, “Stay, in a minute you shall have it.” And in less time than
-it takes to tell it, she had a portly basket filled and placed on
-Joching Pacsel’s arm. He trotted off therewith, nothing loath. The Herr
-Lieutenant was waiting for him, and sat down with a surly look. “Well,”
-he said, “now for it. The everlasting pork and mutton, I suppose. Ah,
-to be invited to dine most exquisitely with a superb woman, and then
-to be condemned to eat hotel stuff!” But soon his humour took another
-turn. The dinner truly was not bad, what with meats and pastry, ices
-and dainties, not to mention a bottle of champagne. It was a dinner
-fit for any man, and most especially for a man about to march and meet
-pale Death. With vain surmises did he try to solve the riddle of this
-unlooked-for excellence, and turning to his servant, asked if there
-were a wedding or a christening at his wonted eating-house. “Nay,” says
-good Joching, “that’s from her.” “Where did you say you got it?” asked
-the Herr Lieutenant. “I got it from Frau von Diamant, sir, as you bade
-me do.” It was worth something to hear the Herr Lieutenant then; to
-hear him rave and tear, and swear that honest Joching was the greatest
-ass that ever walked upon two legs. As time goes on, however, even a
-lieutenant’s rage blows over, and he, being quite cooled down by this
-time, drew his purse, and taking three thalers therefrom, spoke thus
-to Joching, “Here are three thalers; do you see them, lout? Take the
-money and go at once to the nearest pastry-cook’s. Do you understand
-me, fool?” “Yes, Herr Lieutenant,” said honest Joching. “And there you
-buy a tart, the finest that the shop holds, and then you go and take
-it to the house where I was asked to dine. Tell Madam Diamant that you
-are noted for a fool, and would she kindly overlook your error; and
-if the tart but taste one-half as good to her as did her roast and
-confects to me, ’twill give me pleasure more than I can tell. Now, do
-you understand it, stupid fellow?”
-
-[Illustration: “SHE HAD A PORTLY BASKET FILLED.”]
-
-“Ay, sir,” said Joching Pacsel.
-
-And Joching went and brought the tart to the lady. “Best compliments
-from the Herr Lieutenant to the gracious Frau von Diamant----”
-
-“What is it you bring me now?”
-
-“And says he’s long been noted for a fool----”
-
-“Tut, tut,” the lady said, “we know all that.”
-
-“So please forgive him then, and here’s a tart, and eating it will give
-you pleasure more than you can tell.”
-
-Madam, after recovering from a hearty laugh, then said: “Well, tell
-your master we will talk about that at some future time, and here is
-for your trouble.”
-
-She laid a thaler in his hand, and hoped that now he would leave her in
-peace. But no, Joching stood quite still, and held his hand up to his
-face, and gave a furtive peep at it again and again, as if this were
-the first and only thaler he had ever seen.
-
-“Why do you stand there? What is it you are waiting for?” the lady
-asked, at last struck by his manner. “Your difficulties are all
-straightened now.”
-
-“Nay,” said good Joching doubtfully, “this is but one; the tart alone
-cost three.”
-
-  _Fritz Reuter._
-
-
-
-
-_THE HIGHER ALTRUISM._
-
-
-“GOOD morning to you, apothecary. Tell me now, do you know of aught
-that’s good for headache day?”
-
-[Illustration: “SMELL OF THIS BOTTLE AS HARD AS E’ER YOU CAN.”]
-
-“My lad, it is a sore complaint that; one of the worst of ills that
-flesh is heir to. Well, sit you down a bit. Are you from the manor?”
-
-“Yes, sir; I’m one of the farm-servants there.”
-
-“And do the headache days come often?”
-
-“Well, no, but when they do they come bad.”
-
-“We’ll soon manage them, my lad. Come here now, and first shut both
-your eyes. There, that is right. Now, quick; smell of this bottle as
-hard as e’er you can.”
-
-The fellow did precisely as he said. First shut his eyes and smelled
-right heartily of what was in the bottle; and with a heavy thud he
-fell from off his chair. And as he was beginning to come to, says the
-apothecary, “Now, my lad, tell me is your headache day now gone?”
-
-“Oh, sir, it’s not of me that I was talking. It’s our young lady has
-her headache day.”
-
-  _Fritz Reuter._
-
-
-
-
-_MY PICTURES._[7]
-
-
-SO I took to painting, and particularly to making portraits. My old
-friend G---- was the first to have his turn. I sketched him from
-the right and from the left, from the front and from the back, in
-lead-pencil and in black crayon, and then in colours, once with a
-sky-blue background, once with clouds wrapped about him, and once in a
-lovely pink light, as if the sun were setting. That piece made me a lot
-of trouble, and when it was done it didn’t look like it.
-
-When G. was used up it was the Herr Inspector’s turn. The likeness
-was to be for his betrothed, so I had to idealise him a bit, and put
-a pleasant and winning expression on him. It was hard enough, but I
-fetched it at last. As good luck would have it, he had a long nose,
-which is always a piece of luck for a beginner. I seized him by that,
-and when I had it, all the rest had to come after whether it would
-or no. But how about the pleasantness and the winning expression? I
-managed that beautifully; I screwed up his eyes a bit, puffed out his
-cheeks in one place, pulled up the corners of his mouth a quarter of
-an inch, and made a couple of regular little folds there, so that it
-looked like a button-hole that a careful tailor has fastened well at
-the right and left.
-
-[Illustration: “AS GOOD LUCK WOULD HAVE IT, HE HAD A LONG NOSE.”]
-
-The portrait brought me much honour. In the delight of his heart the
-Inspector showed it to my comrades, and now they all wanted to be
-painted. With all sorts of devices we wheedled the Inspector into
-letting one or two of my friends come in to me. My painter’s work-shop
-was as good as any other; the light came from above, and it was the
-coolest north-light a painter could wish to have. Besides, I had an
-advantage over and above my colleagues in the art: the people that sat
-to me were used to sitting still, and could stand it for any length of
-time, and when I shoved my table up close upon them, and G. moved his
-chair to within half a foot of theirs, they sat as in a vice, and there
-was no escaping; they had to bear it.
-
-Here I’ll have to confess that during this time I sinned more than once
-against the image of God; I painted faces that never were, and never
-could be, and I painted them with colours that don’t occur anywhere
-else in life. The black-headed ones I managed to do to my satisfaction,
-but when a flaxen-head happened along then it was pretty bad. I had
-got the habit--more’s the pity--of shading flaxen hair with green, and
-as I was given to working over the face pretty freely with sienna, my
-flaxen-haired portraits seen at a little distance looked for all the
-world like a pine-apple, especially when it so happened that there was
-a green coat below.
-
-My pictures were mostly sent to old fathers and mothers, or sisters and
-brothers, for their birthday or for Christmas; and if any of these good
-folks should be alive now, I will take this opportunity of asking their
-forgiveness if I gave them a fright for the holidays about the looks of
-their relatives. I know that my old father wrote me, when I sent him my
-own portrait, which was very like, that it gave him a heart-sinking to
-see how horribly I had changed.
-
-Be that as it may, it gave us the opportunity of visiting each other,
-and though D. did not take kindly to this innovation, and threw a wet
-blanket over our enterprise whenever he could, he always relented a
-little after a fresh pound of tobacco; and when I caught him helping
-himself from the box of cigars that a good friend in Lübeck had sent
-to my friend G., and when the Major in person wanted to be painted by
-me, then his severity disappeared, and he walked up and down the long
-corridor like a cherubim that has put his flaming sword into the sheath
-for fear he might scorch his wing-feathers.
-
-Painting the portrait of the Major was the crown of my artistic
-activity at M. I was invited to leave my cell and betake myself to the
-Inspector’s room, for here the great feat was to be accomplished. I
-came with all of my artistic belongings. I had mounted a sheet that had
-a remarkably fine greenish tint, and all my pastels were sharp; but
-as I stepped into the room I stood aghast, for my fine skylight that
-I had grown accustomed to was missing--the room had a large natural
-window. I began by taking the Major around into all the corners to find
-the right light, but it was all wrong until we tied the blanket from
-off the Inspector’s bed to the lower part of the window.
-
-Unfortunately the Major had flaxen hair and no eyebrows, and I, poor
-fellow, had a way of always beginning with the eyebrows. What now? At
-other times I would daub in a pair of eyebrows first and then hitch
-on the nose, long or short, as it might happen to be. But what now?
-He had no eyebrows, and I had nothing to begin on, and his nose was,
-from an artist’s point of view, but so-so at best. I had measured all
-the proportions, but there seemed to be no way of getting out of my
-difficulty. I must needs begin, and I must needs have something _hairy_
-to begin on. I was too completely wedded to the habit, so I began with
-the moustache.
-
-I never regretted it; and if one of my colleagues in the trade should
-ever find himself in a similar fix he may confidently follow my
-example, for it was not long before the Inspector, who was looking over
-my shoulder all the time, said that it was going to be very like, and
-the man was something of a connoisseur, and had trustworthy opinions on
-the subject, for he had often watched me, and had been educated up to
-the point by my pictures.
-
-In a short time the face was all done, very handsome too, only with a
-peculiar green light, but it may be that was in the paper. Now came the
-uniform, blue with a red collar, and then the gilt epaulets and the
-bright buttons. Any one who has never tried his hand at that will find
-it no easy job, I can tell him. That was the way I felt. I had French
-blue and chrome yellow in my box, and I was in for it. Having read
-somewhere or other, “The accessories of a portrait should be treated
-with a certain sketchy cleverness,” I acted accordingly. Sketchy enough
-it was, but as far as the cleverness was concerned I got stuck; for
-when I was through with it they both said, the Inspector and the Major,
-that it was no good. The French blue for the coat might possibly do,
-but the epaulets and the buttons looked as if they hadn’t been polished
-up for seven years; and as for the collar, they said it was no major’s
-collar, but an ordinary Prussian postmaster’s collar. I was dreadfully
-put out, of course, but it was true; it did look sort of yellowish. I
-must have been cheated with the vermilion; it was unadulterated red
-lead, and I had been at the shadows again with that confounded sienna.
-
-But I had learned enough of the art not to let them snub me, and so I
-said I would take the picture with me, and in a day or two we would
-talk about it again. And then I tried one kind of light after another,
-and polished up the Herr Major’s epaulets and buttons until G. was
-moved to pity and told me they were bright enough. But that collar! To
-this hour, when I see one of those collars of the Prussian infantry, I
-remember my sins. It wasn’t right, and it wouldn’t come right! At last
-an accident put me on the right track; G.’s canary spattered a drop
-of his water down upon the collar, and on the spot where it fell it
-immediately turned a bright scarlet. If I could get a kind of varnish
-over it to make it look like that, I said to myself. But no, varnish
-is too oily; it might make it look like a grease spot. How would gum
-arabic do? But I didn’t happen to have any handy. I mused and mused,
-and at last I hit upon sugar. That might do. I melted a couple of lumps
-of sugar in a little water, and began cautiously testing it along the
-edges. Beautiful! I struck out boldly, and it wasn’t long before the
-collar would have passed muster for a first-rate Prussian soldier’s
-collar.
-
-G. said, to be sure, that the collar was too bright for the rest of
-the picture, but what did G. know about painting? I stood my major on
-the table, went to bed, and lay looking and looking at him until it
-struck nine and the sentinel shouted, “Lights out!” I shouldn’t wonder
-if Raphael looked at his Madonna for a long time when she was done, but
-I don’t believe that he was as much in love with her as I was with the
-Herr Major. I lay awake for ever so long. I couldn’t sleep for delight.
-A Prussian officer in full uniform; that is something to be proud of,
-gentlemen! At last I fell asleep, and slept far into the next day.
-
-And when I woke up--ye gods, what did I see! G. had not acted as a
-friend by me. He might have hindered it. Thousands of flies were eating
-up the Herr Major’s collar, and there were little black specks in my
-highest lights.
-
-That’s what I call a misfortune. And what now? There was nothing for
-it but to varnish it up again and keep off the flies so long as I had
-it on my hands. I got rid of it as soon as I could. But what the Herr
-Major’s gracious lady said about the likeness, and whether the Herr
-Major hung it up in his room to remember me by, I have not heard to
-this day. So much I know, I was in his and the Inspector’s good graces
-after this, and that was a good thing not only for me but for all of us.
-
-  _Fritz Reuter._
-
-
-
-
-_LISZT EXPECTED AT AN EVENING PARTY._
-
-
-IT is enough to say that Liszt had come. The whole town spoke of him
-and of nothing else.... Not only was it considered an inevitable
-requisite for a person of culture to have heard at least one of his
-concerts, but for those of musical proclivity it was a question of life
-and death to have seen the _virtuoso_ at their own house. A _salon_ was
-greatly in danger of losing its painfully acquired reputation if Liszt
-had not honoured it with a visit. Much higher than the musical treat,
-which was easily attainable for two thalers, stood the consciousness of
-being able to say at the proper moment, with apparent nonchalance, but
-with the blessed assurance of crushing a less fortunate rival: “Do you
-know, my dear, Liszt was with us on Thursday? We had only a few friends
-to meet him. He played the Erlkönig!” Thereupon your rival would go
-home, lie down on the sofa, and have ice and cologne applied to her
-throbbing forehead.
-
-When the excitement in town had reached its height I found, one evening
-after coming home exhausted by a round of lessons to untalented
-beginners, an invitation from Frau Medicinalräthin Pfeffermünze. She
-asked me to put in an appearance at her _salon_ that very evening
-at eight o’clock; something very unusual must have occurred. Her
-instrumental and vocal clients were in the habit of assembling on
-a Saturday, once a fortnight; this was evidently an extra under
-difficulties. We had never before been asked so late.
-
-The note bore signs of haste; Frederick the Great and Napoleon had
-granted themselves more time to sign the orders of cabinet than had the
-Frau Medicinalräthin. I pitched into my dress-coat head over heels, for
-there was not a moment to spare, and hastened to the Charlotten Strasse.
-
-The first storey was illuminated with an unreasonable profusion
-of oil and wax. A gentle shiver passed over my back; in the little
-reception-room, the inviolable sanctuary of the Medicinalrath in
-the eyes of young and giddy musicians, glittered the lights of a
-chandelier. The hall door stood wide open with that philosophically
-resigned hospitality which in general confines itself to funerals with
-four horses. At such supreme moments the lesser laws of life become
-void, and each sympathetic soul, who would never be asked to a place at
-the family table, is made welcome.
-
-“Heavens!” I exclaimed in a whispered monologue, “it cannot be that
-the Medicinalrath has died an unexpected death!” The absurdity of the
-supposition immediately became apparent, for, passing through the
-reception-room, the head of the house appeared before me in person,
-at the right of the gilded mirror, surrounded by satellites, and
-saluted me graciously with a mild wave of his hand. As long as we could
-remember he had not condescended to receive any ordinary musicians,
-such as we were personally, for we were never invited to the higher
-esoteric _fêtes_. To make his presence more emphatically imposing, he
-had adorned himself with three or four little badges of honour instead
-of wearing merely the ribbons belonging thereto.
-
-What had occurred? What was about to occur?
-
-The Medicinalrath was to me an unapproachable entity. I dared not ask
-him. Etiquette demanded that I should confine myself to replying if he
-should address me. His lady might be looked upon as more condescending,
-but to-day I should have to forego any polite advances. Like the vestal
-High Priestess in Spontini’s opera, she stood in the centre of a group
-of maidens festively arrayed. Man, at any other time a much-sought-for
-article, had evidently fallen in price. The young gentlemen, even the
-boldest lions of society, stood close together, and did not venture
-above a whisper.
-
-What had occurred? What was about to occur?
-
-My vague forebodings became certainty as I heard a pale and criminally
-lean gentleman, one notorious for his festive odes, say to his
-neighbour: “He is coming! You will see the godlike youth face to
-face.” The person addressed like the contrite Brahmin stared at the
-tip of his nose, and preserved a worshipful silence. “I breakfasted
-with him yesterday. A most delightful companion! The very picture
-of unpretentious simplicity,” continued the other. Ah, could he but
-breakfast with him every day, life had looked brighter to him!
-
-Among the bards near by a wild state of excitement made itself felt.
-Their leader distributed printed leaflets among them, and the poet
-stepped nearer to designate a certain passage in the third stanza which
-required a decided crescendo. Just then the Frau Medicinalräthin came
-rustling into the circle.
-
-“Would it not be better,” she said, smiling benignly, but struggling
-with a nervous tremor, “if the chorus were to retire into the adjoining
-room, so as to have the music come from a greater distance?”
-
-“Frau Medicinalräthin is right,” exclaimed the poet encouragingly,
-urging the youths of Berlin into the next room. “The chant should
-impress him as coming from another, purer world. Then in the third and
-last stanzas the angels descend and greet the genius here below as a
-brother. Carry out my suggestions, gentlemen, and go into the other
-room.”
-
-The chorus would greatly have preferred to be present from beginning
-to end, after the fashion of its antique prototypes in Sophocles
-and Euripides, but there was nothing for it but to yield. It took a
-covered position, attentively re-read the melodious lyric made to fit a
-well-known tune, and cleared its throat.
-
-The clock on the mantel struck nine; the Medicinalrath still stood
-sentinel at the right of the mirror, conversing with the aristocratic
-element. In the background preparations for a sacrificial offering of
-tea seemed to be going on, but no one ventured to begin the solemn
-ceremony. My conjecture was that the hostess feared thereby to offend
-the august spirit of the expected genius.
-
-It struck a quarter, it struck half-past--still no Liszt!--
-
-The Medicinalrath and his æsthetic wife moved nearer to the windows,
-and convulsively started every time a carriage passed near enough
-to give one reason to suspect it of an intention of stopping. The
-assembled guests had said everything they had to say, and the need of
-an impetus, physical or psychical, was making itself sadly felt.
-
-“We certainly cannot have tea served now. He may come at any moment.
-The effect would be quite lost!” whispered the Frau Medicinalräthin as
-her husband approached her, reminding her of the bodily needs of her
-guests.
-
-A general restlessness took possession of those assembled. “Punctuality
-is the politeness of kings, but not of geniuses!” a young lawyer, who
-was at other times the Aristophanes of these receptions, ventured to
-remark with some bitterness.
-
-“Liszt did not name the hour, I should say by way of vindication;
-he merely promised to come. You know that his time is tasked to
-the utmost. A king may seclude himself from his worshippers, but a
-_virtuoso_ has not an hour of the day to call his own,” said the
-Medicinalrath, soothingly.
-
-A carriage came rattling wildly up to the door and stopped. “It is he!”
-cried an academic youth, whom the master of the house had stationed as
-a sentry at the first window.
-
-The moment was overwhelming. As fast as circumstances would permit the
-guests grouped picturesquely. The Medicinalrath took the centre at the
-right of the mirror; his lady, our gracious patroness, seized the
-white silk ribbons on which the ode had been printed in gilt letters.
-The chorus of priestesses arranged itself artistically about her; the
-chorus of Berlin youths began to sing in the adjoining room; we mutes
-sent greedy eyeshots to meet the expected.
-
-A nimble young man put his small, coal-black head through the door, and
-seemed undecided to whom to turn.
-
-“Pfeffermünze,” whispered an old gentleman to the Medicinalrath, “that
-is not Liszt!”
-
-“That is not the blond head of our Samson. Avaunt, venal slave!”
-muttered the manufacturer of festive odes. The black-headed little
-fellow was actually one of the secretaries of the genius sent out to
-calm the assembly on account of his late arrival; perhaps, also, if I
-rightly judge the much-enduring _virtuoso_, to ward off the boisterous
-ovations in store for him. The inhabitants of dangerously-situated
-Alpine villages erect plough-shaped stone walls as a security against
-avalanches; the mass of snow is disrupted, and falls powerless on
-either side.
-
-There was a universal disappointment; the chorus of youths was hushed
-with difficulty, the gilt-illumined ode was laid aside, the secretary
-was surrounded, and by way of reward for his good news that his master
-was following, he was made much of. The commotion was so turbulent
-that no one noticed the entrance of a slender young man, stooping
-perceptibly, with lank arms and long yellow hair, who had been peeled
-out of a magnificent sable greatcoat in the reception-room by a
-servant. But he did not escape the eagle eye of our patroness.
-
-“Mein Gott, Liszt!” she exclaimed in a broken voice, and then she
-sank into the arms of two robust alto singers, who, always on the
-alert for such unaccountable tricks of destiny, were ever at her side.
-There was a sympathetic movement among the guests, only the one most
-nearly concerned, the Medicinalrath, retaining a posture of stoic
-composure. The master of tone also did not seem quite inexperienced in
-the treatment of such misadventures. He rapidly approached the invalid,
-seized the right hand of the lady overcome by the magnitude of her
-feelings, ordered “things strengthening and refreshing,” like Mozart’s
-Don Ottavia, and raised her spirits with marvellous speed.
-
-So Liszt was come; but all the effects arranged for his reception had
-failed. But his tortured soul was not spared the ode. He was compelled
-to sit down between two ladies and listen to the song. Then the
-artistic hostess presented the silk ribbon. It was entwined about a
-fresh laurel wreath.
-
-During this offering of gratitude I had been making some remarks of
-condolence to the secretary. Since nightfall his liege lord had been
-visiting five families of distinction. The Erlkönig had been wrung from
-him at four places. The burden of pianoforte fame weighs heavy; at the
-thought the trials of teaching dwindled. Was the genius to escape the
-Erlkönig here? From out of the music-room the concert-grand loomed
-forth majestically like the heavy cannons in forts that are used to
-practise recruits.
-
-The illustrious one bore all of the trials inflicted upon him with rare
-firmness; he deported himself somewhat as a prince humouring a company
-of persons of little estate, permitted aspiring instrumentalists and
-singers, professionals and amateurs, to be presented, said something
-apt and encouraging to each, jested with the ladies in a courtly
-manner, and endured the aged with a philosophic resignation rare
-in one of his years. He escaped from tea, it probably having been
-urged upon him five times already. The whole company was intoxicated
-by the charm of his manner. More than twenty album-leaves had been
-clandestinely introduced by the ladies, and he wrote his name on each
-without a groan. I feared in secret that one of the fair Delilas might
-stealthily draw a pair of scissors out of her pocket and clutch the
-lion’s mane as a signal for the lurking envy which began to show signs
-of being abroad. But the god of the muses watched over his precious
-head; he kept his locks and his titanic strength, and he permitted
-himself to be persuaded to play. Counting by the programmes of previous
-concerts, and the receipts consequent upon the high price of admission,
-he magnanimous fellow played, at a modest estimate, for 375 thalers.
-
-[Illustration: “HIS APPRECIATIVE HOST AND HOSTESS EXERTED THEMSELVES TO
-GET HIM INTO HIS SABLE GREATCOAT.”]
-
-The Frau Medicinalräthin would have given a great deal to induce him
-to finish the fourth hundred, and she did her very best to force the
-poor unfortunate to give her the Chromatic Gallop. It was not possible.
-Inexorable fate still had a _souper_ in store with which the genius
-was to finish the day’s task. It became necessary to dismiss him.
-
-As he went all the guests escorted him to the ante-chamber, his
-appreciative host and hostess personally exerted themselves to get him
-into his sable greatcoat. Deep sorrow shone in the eyes of the Frau
-Medicinalräthin, perhaps at her inability to be able to induce the
-vocal youths of Berlin to prostrate themselves before him by way of a
-musical carpet to the master’s carriage.
-
-The reputation of her _salon_ had been established for one generation.
-
-  _E. Kossak_ (1814-1880).
-
-
-
-
-_A PRINCE IN DISGUISE._
-
-[Illustration: “IN SHORT, IT WAS A LIVELY INNINGS.”]
-
-
-ON a dismal November day a poor devil of a tailor was walking along the
-country-road to Goldach, a little wealthy town but a few miles from
-Seldwyla. The tailor carried nothing in his pocket but his thimble,
-which in lieu of coin he was incessantly twirling between his fingers;
-it was so cold that he was obliged to keep his hands in the pockets
-of his trousers, and his fingers began to ache smartly, what with
-this eternal twirling and twisting. He had lost his pay and his work
-at the same time, because some head-tailor at Seldwyla had failed,
-and there was nothing for it but to take to the road. A couple of
-snow-flakes that had blown into his mouth were the only breakfast he
-had had, and there was as little prospect for any dinner. Begging was
-made difficult, ay, seemed quite out of the question; because over his
-black Sunday suit, which was the only one he had, he wore an ample dark
-grey mantle faced with black velvet, which gave its wearer a noble
-and romantic exterior, the more so as his long black hair and little
-moustache were well cared for, and he was the happy possessor of pale,
-regular features.
-
-Attire of the sort described had become a necessity to him, and
-he indulged in it with no evil or deceitful purpose; he was quite
-contented when he was not interfered with and left in peace to do his
-work, but he would sooner have starved than give up his mantle and
-Polish fur-cap, which he managed to wear with an inimitable grace.
-
-For this reason he could work only in good-sized towns, where he did
-not become too conspicuous; when on the road and without savings he
-was in a sorry enough plight. Did he approach a house, he was looked
-at with surprise and curiosity, and there was nothing farther from the
-thoughts of the inhabitants than that he would beg; so the words died
-on his lips, the more so as he was not a possessor of many words, and
-he became in truth a martyr of his mantle, and suffered hunger as dark
-and dismal as the latter’s velvet lining.
-
-As he was wearily ascending a rise of ground he came upon a new and
-comfortable carriage, which a gentleman’s coachman had fetched from
-Basle for his master, a foreign count who was awaiting it somewhere
-in Switzerland on an old estate he had bought or leased. The carriage
-was designed for travelling, and had all sorts of arrangements to hold
-luggage, so that it seemed to be heavily loaded, although it was empty.
-The coachman was walking by his horses on account of the steepness
-of the road. When he reached the top of the hill he got up on the box
-again, and asked the tailor if he would not have a ride; for it was
-beginning to rain, and he saw at a glance that the poor fellow was
-faintly and sorrowfully trudging along.
-
-He gratefully and humbly accepted the offer, whereupon the carriage
-took him at a rapid pace over the rest of the road, so that in one
-short hour they passed, with a hollow, thundering sound, through
-the town gate of Goldach. Before the best hotel, called Zur Wage,
-the elegant turnout stopped, and at once the groom pulled the bell
-violently, so that the wire nearly broke. Down came the host and his
-people and pulled open the carriage door; the children and neighbours
-came crowding about the splendid carriage, full of curiosity to see
-what kernel could be contained in this marvellous shell, and when the
-dumfounded tailor came forth in his mantle, pale and handsome, gazing
-pensively upon the ground, he seemed to them to be a mysterious prince
-or count at the very least. The space between the carriage and the
-door of the hotel was narrow, and the rest of the pavement pretty well
-blocked by the curious crowd. It may have been due to a certain lack of
-presence of mind, or possibly of courage, that he did not break through
-the rabble and simply go on his way; he did not, but weakly allowed
-himself to be escorted into the house and upstairs, and did not become
-fully conscious of his new and remarkable position until he found
-himself in a comfortable dining-room, and his portentous mantle was
-being officiously removed.
-
-“The gentleman wishes to dine?” said a voice. “Dinner will be served at
-once; it is nearly ready.”
-
-Without waiting for a reply the host rushed for the kitchen, and cried:
-“In the name of three devils! now we have nothing but beef and a mutton
-joint! I dare not cut the partridge-pie, because that was ordered
-for the gentlemen coming this evening. _Isn’t_ this a shame? The only
-day when we don’t expect any such person, and when there is nothing
-in the house, so fine a gentleman must turn up! And the coachman has
-a coat-of-arms on his buttons, and the carriage is good enough for a
-duke! And the young man is so grand that he doesn’t so much as open his
-mouth!”
-
-And the phlegmatic cook said: “Well, there is nothing to grumble about,
-sir. Of course he shall have the partridge-pie; he won’t eat it up!
-We’ll serve it on small plates for the gentlemen this evening. We can
-get out six platefuls!”
-
-“Six platefuls? You must forget that the gentlemen are accustomed
-to eat their fill at _my_ hotel!” answered the host; but the cook
-looked unmoved, and continued: “And so they shall! We must send for
-half-a-dozen of cutlets; we need them for the stranger as it is; and
-what he leaves I’ll cut up into little squares and mix it in the pie.
-Just leave all that to me!”
-
-But the honest host said, with a serious mien, “Cook, I have told you
-before that such things cannot be in this town and in this house! I
-wish to be respectable and honourable, and can afford to be so.”
-
-“Ye saints!” cried the cook, at last getting somewhat excited, “if
-there is no help for it, one must do the best one can! Here are two
-snipes that I have bought from the hunter this minute; I’ll put them
-in the pie. A partridge pie adulterated with snipe will be good enough
-for your gluttons! And then there are some trout; the biggest I threw
-into the water as that remarkable carriage came to the door; and there
-is some soup in that little pan. So then we have fish, beef, cutlets
-with vegetables, the joint, and the pie. Just give me the keys now, so
-that I can get out the sweetmeats and the dessert! And, by the way,
-you might do me the honour, sir, to entrust the key to me once for
-all, so that I wouldn’t have to run after you for it and get into awful
-straits.”
-
-“Good woman, you must not bear me a grudge for that. I promised my wife
-on her deathbed never to give the key out of my hands, so it’s a matter
-of principle, not of mistrust. Here are the cucumbers, and here are
-the cherries; here are the pears, and here the apricots; but this old,
-stale pastry cannot be used. Quick! send Lise to the pastry-cook’s to
-get fresh cakes, three dishes full, and if he has a good tart he may
-send it also.”
-
-“Dear me, sir! you can’t put all that on one gentleman’s bill. It will
-cost you more than it is worth!”
-
-“Never mind that. It’s all for the honour! It won’t kill me, and when
-a grand swell like that passes through our town he shall be able to
-say he dined well, though he was not expected, and it was in winter!
-I won’t have it said of me as they say of the hosts of Seldwyla, that
-they eat everything good themselves and leave the bones for their
-customers. Go ahead, then, all of you, and do your best!”
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Without further delay he was asked to table, a chair was placed for
-him, and as the fragrant odour of the savoury soup, the like of which
-he had not smelled for many a day, robbed him completely of his will,
-he sat down in God’s name and at once dipped his heavy spoon into
-the golden brown liquid. In deep silence did he refresh his wearied
-spirits, and he was waited upon in respectfully hushed awe.
-
-When he had emptied his plate, and the host saw how he had relished it,
-he encouraged him politely to have another spoonful; it would do him
-good, the weather being so inclement. Now the trout was served adorned
-with greens, and the host helped him to a generous piece. But the
-tailor, tormented by anxiety, did not venture in his shyness to boldly
-use his knife, but coyly and shamefacedly dabbed at it with his fork.
-The cook, who was watching behind the door to see the grand gentleman,
-noticed it, and she said to her subordinates, “Praised be our Lord
-Jesus Christ! There is one who knows how to eat a fine fish, as he
-should; he does not saw the delicate thing with his knife as if he were
-butchering a calf. That is a person of quality. I’d swear to that if it
-were not wicked! And how handsome and sad he is! There isn’t a doubt of
-it, he is in love with some grand lady whom they won’t let him have. Ah
-yes, grand people have their troubles as well as others!”
-
-Meanwhile, the host seeing that his guest left his glass untouched,
-said deferentially, “My table wine is not to your honour’s taste.
-Permit me to bring you a glass of good Bordeaux, which I can greatly
-recommend.”
-
-And then and there did the tailor commit his first spontaneous fault
-by obediently saying yes instead of no; and thereupon did the landlord
-of the “Woge” betake himself in person to his cellar to pick out a
-choice bottle; for he was greatly concerned to have it said that there
-was something first-class to be had in the place. When his guest,
-suffering under the torments of an evil conscience, ventured only to
-sip faint-heartedly of the contents of his glass, the host ran exulting
-into the kitchen, smacked his tongue, and cried: “The devil take me,
-there’s one to the manner born; there’s a judge of good wine for you.
-He takes it on his tongue as one would lay a ducat on the gold scales!”
-
-So dinner took its course, very slowly indeed, for the poor tailor ate
-and drank very coyly and undecidedly; and the host, to give him time,
-left everything on the table for longer than ordinary. For all that,
-what the guest had eaten up to this time was not worth speaking of; but
-now his hunger, which was constantly being tempted in so dangerous
-a manner, began to conquer his terror, and when the partridge-pie
-appeared the mood of the tailor suddenly changed, and one fixed thought
-began to master him. “Things are as they are,” he said to himself,
-warmed and incited by a new glass of wine. “I were a fool now if I
-should bear the brunt of the coming shame and persecution without
-having eaten my fill for it! So look to it while it is time. This is
-likely to be the last dish; I will devote myself to this, come what
-may! What I once have in my stomach no king can rob me of!”
-
-No sooner said than done. With the boldness of despair he attacked
-the savoury pie, with no thought of stopping, so that in less than
-five minutes it was half gone, and the cause of the gentlemen who
-had ordered it was sadly in want of support. Meat, mushrooms, balls,
-crust, and top he swallowed without distinction, only anxious to bag
-it all before a cruel destiny should overtake him. He drank his wine
-in a hearty draught, and put enormous bits of bread into his mouth; in
-short, it was a lively innings, as when before a storm the hay from the
-near meadow is cast into the barn with a pitch-fork. Again the host
-ran to the kitchen and cried: “Look, he is eating up the pie, while he
-scarcely touched the roast! And the Bordeaux he drinks by glassfuls!”
-
-“Let him,” said the cook. “He knows a partridge when he sees it! If he
-were a common fellow, he would have gorged on the roast!”
-
-“That’s what I say,” remarked the host; “it doesn’t look very genteel;
-but I have often seen generals and the high clergy eat so!”
-
-Meanwhile the coachman had had his horses fed, had eaten a substantial
-meal himself in the servants’ room, and as he was in haste, he had
-ordered his horses to be harnessed again. The menials could not resist
-asking him, before it was too late, who his master was and what was
-his name. The coachman, a jolly and sly fellow, said, “Has he not told
-you himself?”
-
-“No,” they said; and he replied, “It is no wonder. He doesn’t have much
-to say from morning till night. Well, he is Count Strapinsky! He is
-going to stay here all day,--perhaps longer, for he told me to take the
-carriage home.”
-
-He perpetrated this vicious joke to take revenge on the tailor, who
-had, as he thought, without giving him a word of thanks for his
-kindness, gone into the hotel to play the false _rôle_ of a gentleman.
-Carrying his waggishness still further, he got up on his box without
-so much as asking what there was to pay for himself and his horses,
-cracked his whip, and drove out of town, no one interfering, for it was
-all put down on the bill of our friend the tailor.
-
-  _Gottfried Keller_ (1815-1887).
-
-
-
-
-_A DISREPUTABLE SAINT._
-
-
-ABOUT the beginning of the eighth century there lived at Alexandria
-an eccentric monk called Vitalis, who had set himself the special
-task of luring away the lost souls of women from the path of sin, and
-restoring them to virtue. But his methods were so singular, and the
-infatuation with which he untiringly followed his aim was mixed with
-such remarkable self-renunciation and hypocrisy, that the world has
-scarcely seen his like again.
-
-In his cap he carried about with him a small silver case containing a
-parchment scroll with the names of those to be converted. This he took
-out again and again to add some new-discovered suspicious name to the
-list, or to count over those he already had, and to decide which one of
-their owners should be the next to be regenerated.
-
-As a matter of fact, his reputation was of the worst. For while in
-secret he touched the heart of many a lost one with his burning words
-of exhortation and the sweet whisperings of his fervid prayers, and was
-the means of leading them into virtuous ways, in public he gave himself
-the air of being a lascivious, sinful monk, gaily paddling in the pool
-of the world, and making his cowl a flag of shame.
-
-Finding himself at dusk of evening in respectable company, he would
-suddenly exclaim, “Ah, what am I thinking of? I had well-nigh forgotten
-that brown-eyed Doris. My little friend is awaiting me! The deuce! I
-must begone at once, lest she should pout!”
-
-Returning at dawn to his cell, he would cast himself down before
-the Mother of God, to whose honour and glory alone he undertook
-these adventures and bore the world’s reproaches; and if he had
-been successful in leading back one lamb that had gone astray, and
-placing it safe in the same holy monastery, he thought himself more
-blessed in the sight of the heavenly queen than if he had converted a
-thousand heathens. For this was pre-eminently to his taste, to bear
-the martyrdom of appearing before the world as a libertine, while our
-purest Lady in Heaven well knew that he had not so much as touched a
-woman’s hand, and that he wore an invisible crown of white roses upon
-his reviled head.
-
-Once he heard of a particularly alluring young person, whose beauty
-and unusual charms had wrought much mischief and even bloodshed, as
-a noble and ferocious warrior kept guard at her door, making short
-work of any one who made bold to enter into dispute with him. Vitalis
-resolved to attack this hell and to conquer it. He walked straight to
-the disreputable house, and at the door encountered the soldier attired
-in bright scarlet, and walking haughtily up and down, spear in hand.
-
-“Get thee gone, holy father!” he cried scornfully at the sight of
-pious Vitalis. “How canst thou venture to crawl about my lion’s den?
-Heaven is for thee, the world is for us!”
-
-“Heaven and earth and all that is therein,” cried Vitalis, “belong to
-the Lord and to his jolly servants! Begone, thou gaudy fool, and let me
-go where it pleases me!”
-
-[Illustration: “THE MONK PARRIED THE BLOW.”]
-
-Enraged, the warrior raised the shaft of his spear to bring it down
-upon the monk’s head, but the latter pulled out an olive branch from
-beneath his habit, parried the blow, and hit the ruffian’s forehead
-with such force as nearly to rob him of his senses, whereupon the
-valiant ecclesiastic gave him some smart raps under his nose until the
-soldier, wrathful and cursing, made room for him.
-
-Vitalis entered the house as a conqueror. At the head of a narrow
-staircase stood a woman holding a lamp, and listening to the noise and
-shouting. She was above the ordinary height, and firmly built, with
-handsome though insolent features, surrounded by rich wild waves of
-reddish hair, like a lion’s mane.
-
-Scornfully she looked down upon the approaching monk, and said,
-“Where are you going?” “To see you, my dove!” he replied. “Have you
-never heard of the amorous monk Vitalis?” But she answered brusquely,
-barricading the staircase, “Have you any money, monk?” Taken aback, he
-replied, “Monks do not carry money!” “Then begone,” she cried, “or I
-will have you flogged out of the house with firebrands!”
-
-Vitalis scratched his head at this new dilemma; the creatures he had
-converted hitherto had of course not thought of demanding the wages of
-sin, and the unconverted were content to punish him for wasted time
-with venomous words. But here he was excluded from the field on which
-to begin his pious deed; and still there was a fascination in taming
-this reddish-golden daughter of Satan, because large and beautiful
-specimens of humanity again and again betray the senses into imputing a
-higher human value to them than they possess. Feeling about his habit,
-he came across the little silver case, which was decorated with an
-amethyst of some value. “I have nothing but this,” he said. She took
-the case, examined it closely, and then allowed him to enter. True to
-his custom, he went into a corner of her room and prayed in a loud
-voice.
-
-The woman, thinking he was about to begin his worldly enterprise with a
-Christian introduction of prayer, burst into uproarious laughter, and
-sat down to look at him, being vastly amused by his gesticulations.
-Soon, however, she tired of the sport, and walking up to him she put
-her strong white arms about him, and pressed his tonsured head so
-vigorously against her bosom, that he was in danger of choking, and
-began to blow and sputter as if he were in purgatory. He beat about him
-like a young horse at the blacksmith’s until he had freed himself from
-the hellish embrace. He then took the long rope that was tied about
-his body, and seized the woman to tie her hands upon her back. It was
-a hard struggle before he bound her and threw her down with a heavy
-thud, returning thereupon to his corner and continuing his prayers as
-if nothing had happened.
-
-The fettered lioness threw herself about angrily and uttered a hundred
-curses; then she grew more quiet, while the monk did not cease praying,
-preaching, and exhorting, and toward morning sighs became audible,
-followed by a sound of bitter sobbing. In short, when the sun rose she
-lay as a penitent Magdalene at his feet, and bathed the hem of his
-garment with tears. With serene benignity Vitalis laid his hand upon
-her head, and promised to return the following night to tell her in
-which monastery her contrite soul might find refuge.
-
-What was his horror, coming back at the appointed hour, to find the
-door fast locked, and the woman looking out of the window in gay and
-stately attire.
-
-“What wilt thou, priest?” she called down, and greatly surprised, he
-replied in an undertone, “What means this, my lamb? Remove this sinful
-frippery and let me in, that I may prepare thee for repentance!” “Thou
-would’st come in to me, wicked monk?” she said smiling, as if she
-had misunderstood him. “Have you money, or money’s worth, with you?”
-Vitalis gazed at her open-mouthed, then he shook the door despairingly,
-but it remained locked, and the woman was gone from the window.
-
-The jibes and sneers of the passers-by drove the apparently corrupt and
-shameless monk away from the house; but his one thought was to conquer
-the Evil One, who had taken possession of this woman by every means
-within his power.
-
-Occupied by this thought he entered a church, and instead of praying,
-he pondered ways and means of accomplishing his purpose. His eyes fell
-upon a chest containing gifts of charity, and no sooner was the church
-empty than he knocked it open with his powerful fist, and gathering up
-his gown, threw the contents of the chest, consisting of a quantity
-of small silver coins, into it, and with more than a lover’s speed,
-hastened to the house of the sinner.
-
-He threw the stolen money upon the table and said, “Sufficeth it for
-this night?” Silently she counted it over, and saying, “It suffices!”
-she put it aside.
-
-The two stood facing each other with peculiar sensations. Repressing
-a laugh, she looked as if she knew of nothing, and the monk measured
-her with uncertain and sorrowful glances, not knowing how to call her
-to account. But as she was about to put her hand in his lustrous black
-beard, the storm of his spiritual indignation broke forth. Angrily he
-struck her hand, then threw her down with a mighty effort, and kneeling
-upon her and holding her hands, untouched by her charms, he began to
-plead with her soul until her stubbornness seemed to melt.
-
-The storm of his eloquent indignation changed to a soft and
-transcendent compassion, and his words flowed soothingly, like a mild
-spring-breath over the broken ice of this heart.
-
-With a lighter heart than the sweetest of earthly happiness could have
-brought him he hastened away, not to get an hour’s sleep upon his hard
-couch, but to pray for the poor repentant soul at the altar of the
-virgin far into the early dawn; for he vowed not to close his eyes in
-sleep until the stray lamb was safe behind the protecting walls of a
-monastery.
-
-As the morning advanced he set out once more for her house; at the
-same time he saw the ferocious warrior advancing upon him from the
-other end of the street. He was half intoxicated, and after a night of
-dissipation was on his way to win the harlot once more.
-
-Vitalis was nearer to the fatal door, and he dexterously leaped to
-reach it, when the soldier threw his spear at him, which, in the
-twinkling of an eye, was lodged with quivering shaft in the door, close
-by the monk’s head. But ere it ceased to quiver the monk wrenched it
-out of the wood with all his might, turning it against the warrior, who
-was advancing with his sword drawn, and quick as lightning he pierced
-his breast; the man dropped down dead, and at the same moment Vitalis
-was arrested by a troop of spearmen returning from a night-watch, who
-bound him and led him away to prison.
-
-For many days he was kept there, but at the end of his trial he
-was dismissed free of punishment, because he had killed the man in
-self-defence. At the same time there was the stain of manslaughter
-upon him, and every one exclaimed that it was high time to deprive him
-of his religious orders. But Bishop John, who was at that time the
-ecclesiastical head of Alexandria, must have had an inkling of the true
-facts of the case; certain it is he refused to expel the ill-reputed
-monk, and gave orders to let him go his own eccentric way for a while.
-
-Without delay he sped to his converted sinner, who in the meantime
-had again vacillated, and did not give the sorrowful Vitalis entrance
-until he had again possessed himself of some valuable and brought it to
-her. She repented and suffered herself to be converted for the third
-time, and soon after for the fourth and fifth times, as she found these
-conversions more profitable than anything else, and, moreover, the
-evil spirit within her took a fiendish delight in hoodwinking the poor
-priest with changing arts and inventions.
-
-The latter was now a martyr in a deeper sense. The more he was
-deceived, the more firmly did he cling to his aim, and it seemed to him
-as if his own salvation depended upon the conversion of this particular
-person. He was now a murderer, church-robber, and thief; but he would
-not for the world have given up one iota of his shameful reputation,
-and if at times this weighed heavy upon his heart he devoted himself
-with renewed ardour to keep up this discreditable exterior with ribald
-words. For this specialty of martyrdom was his free choice. He grew
-pale and thin over it, and began to creep about like a shadow on the
-wall, but always with laughing lips.
-
-Opposite the house of trial lived a wealthy Greek merchant, who had
-an only daughter named Jole. Being at liberty to do whatever she
-pleased, she was often at a loss how to spend her day. Her father read
-Plato, and when he was tired of that, composed neat xenia about the
-antique cameos, of which he had collected a great number. Jole, when
-she had laid aside her lyre, knew no outlet for her vivid thoughts,
-and restlessly gazed into the heavens, and into the distance, wherever
-there was an opening.
-
-So she discovered the doings of the monk upon the street, and through
-her slave, who was on confidential terms with the slave of the
-wicked courtesan, she heard the truth about him. She meditated for
-a while, growing more and more dissatisfied, while her sympathy for
-the monk increased, though it was intermingled with an odd feeling of
-indignation.
-
-Suddenly she resolved that if the Virgin Mary had not enough common
-sense to lead the wandering one back upon a respectable road, she
-herself would undertake to do so. She thereupon went to her father,
-complained bitterly about the improper neighbourhood, and begged him to
-remove the objectionable person.
-
-A certain sum being offered for the house, the courtesan left it that
-very hour, while the old Greek returned to his Plato and gave the
-matter no second thought.
-
-Not so did Jole. She had everything removed from the little house which
-bore any relation to its former occupant, and when it had been swept
-and cleaned it was perfumed with incense, and clouds of fragrant smoke
-poured from the windows.
-
-Then she had the empty room furnished with nought but a rug, a potted
-rose-bush, and a lamp, and when her father, who was wont to retire
-at sunset, had gone to sleep, she went over there herself, with a
-wreath of roses on her head, and sat down on the rug, while two trusty
-servants guarded the outside door.
-
-They concealed themselves as Vitalis approached, and allowed him to
-enter. What was his surprise as he stepped into the room to find it
-emptied of all the tawdry finery of the red lioness, and instead of the
-latter a slender and graceful little person sitting upon the rug, with
-the little rose-bush opposite!
-
-“Where is the lost one that dwelt here?” he cried, looking about him,
-and then fixing his eyes upon the lovely apparition before him.
-
-“She has gone into the desert,” replied Jole, without looking up,
-“where she will lead a hermit’s life, and do penance.”
-
-“Praised be the Lord and His gracious Mother!” cried Vitalis, folding
-his hands with pious cheerfulness, while it seemed as if a stone rolled
-from his heart; at the same time he gave a curious glance at the girl
-and her wreath of roses, and said--
-
-“And who art thou? From whence comest thou, and what is thy purpose?”
-
-Sweet Jole lowered her dark eyes still more, while deep blushes covered
-her face, for she was greatly ashamed of the wicked things she was
-about to say to this man.
-
-“I am an orphan,” she said, “and this rug, this lamp, and this
-rose-bush is all that is left me of my possessions. So I have resolved
-to begin life where the other woman left it who was here before me!”
-
-“The deuce you will!” cried the monk, beating his hands together.
-“Alack-a-day, how busy Satan is! And this harmless little creature
-tells me the thing as dryly as if I were not the monk Vitalis! Well,
-tell me again, pussy, what is it you will do?”
-
-“I will give my life to love and serve men so long as this rose
-blooms!” she said, pointing lightly to the bush; but she could scarcely
-speak the words for shame, and cowered down low upon the floor, and
-this natural shame served the rogue very well to convince the monk that
-here he had to do with an innocent child possessed of the devil. He
-stroked his beard with pleasure at having appeared upon the scene just
-at the nick of time, and said slowly, and with a twinkle of fun--
-
-“And then later, my dove?”
-
-“Then my poor soul will go to Hell, where beautiful Madam Venus is; or
-perhaps if I find a good preacher, I will go into a monastery and do
-penance!”
-
-“Better and better,” he cried. “As regards the preacher, he is here
-already, and stands before you, you black-eyed child of Hell! And the
-monastery is awaiting you like a mouse-trap, and I will see to it that
-you walk in there before sinning, do you hear? Before sinning, except
-for the laudable purpose which shall serve you to do penance on. And
-now,” he added in a serious tone, “down with the roses and listen to
-me!”
-
-“No,” said Jole, growing bolder, “I will listen first, and then see
-about taking down the roses. Having once overcome my feminine modesty,
-words do not suffice to hold me back before knowing sin, and without
-sin I shall know no repentance.”
-
-Now Vitalis began the most beautiful sermon he had ever preached. The
-girl listened with a charming raptness, which in its turn influenced
-the choice of his words, the beauty and grace of the object to be
-converted imperceptibly calling forth a higher eloquence. But as she
-was not at all serious in the frivolous speeches she had made to him,
-she could not be very deeply impressed by his words; a sweet smile
-floated about her lips, and when he had finished, Jole said, “I am but
-half touched by your words, and cannot give up my project; I am too
-curious to know the joys of this world!”
-
-[Illustration: “NOW VITALIS BEGAN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SERMON HE HAD EVER
-PREACHED.”]
-
-It was the first time that his art of conversion had met with so
-complete a failure. With contemplative sighs he walked back and forth
-in the room, and then glanced at the little candidate for perdition.
-The power of the Devil seemed to have made a strange compact here with
-the power of innocence.
-
-“I will not leave this room,” he cried at last, “until you repent!”
-
-“That would but make me more stubborn,” replied Jole. “I will ponder
-your words, and the coming night I will hear you again!”
-
-“So be it then!” cried Vitalis; whereupon he left her, and Jole slipped
-quietly back into her father’s house.
-
-She slept but a short time, and awaited the evening with impatience.
-She had seen what an ecstatic fire beamed within the eyes of the monk;
-she had seen how manly were his motions in spite of his ecclesiastical
-dress. When she thought of his self-renunciation, of the steadfastness
-with which he followed his chosen aim, she could not but wish that
-these good qualities might serve her own use and pleasure, in the shape
-of a loving and faithful husband. Hence it seemed her mission to make a
-good martyr into a better husband.
-
-The following night Vitalis was at his post betimes, and with
-undiminished ardour continued his exertions for her virtue. He was
-obliged to stand, except when he was kneeling in prayer. Jole, however,
-took her ease; she lay down upon the rug, folded her arms under her
-head, and watched the monk with eyes half-closed. Whenever she quite
-closed them Vitalis touched her with his foot to awake her. But this
-rough measure was always more gentle in the end than he intended, for
-no sooner did his foot approach the slender figure of the girl than it
-involuntarily slackened speed, and but softly touched her side, and, at
-the same time, a most wonderful sensation passed up the whole length of
-the tall monk--a sensation the remotest approach to which he had never
-experienced near any of the fair sinners he had had to do with.
-
-Toward morning an angelic smile flitted across her face, and she said:
-“I have listened attentively, and I now hate sin; the more so, because
-it is so hateful to you, and nothing can henceforth please me that
-displeases you!”
-
-“Is it true?” he said rapturously. “Have my efforts been crowned with
-success? Now, to make sure of you, come quick to the monastery!”
-
-“You misunderstand me,” replied Jole with a blush, fixing her eyes upon
-the ground; “I am in love with you. Now you must convert me of this new
-evil, and banish it; and I hope you will succeed!”
-
-Vitalis, without a word, turned and rushed out of the house. He ran
-out into the silvery grey morning, and considered whether he should
-leave this suspicious young person to her fate, or try to rid her of
-this last whim, which was the most fatal one of all, and, perhaps,
-not without danger to himself. An angry flush rose in his face at the
-latter thought; but then he remembered that the devil might have set
-this trap for him, and now was the time to flee. But supposing the poor
-little creature really meant well, and by a few vigorous words might be
-cured of this last unhealthy fancy? In short, Vitalis could arrive at
-no decision; the less so, because deep within his heart great waves had
-arisen and set his little ship of reason all a-rocking.
-
-He slipped into a church by the wayside, where a fine old marble statue
-of Juno, supplied with a gilt halo, had been made to do service as
-the Virgin Mary. Before this Mary he threw himself down, and ardently
-unfolded all his doubts, and begged his mistress to give him a sign. If
-she nodded her head he would finish the conversion; if she shook it, he
-would desist.
-
-The statue, however, left him in a state of cruel uncertainty and did
-neither the one nor the other. But as the pink glory of a passing
-cloud flitted across the marble, the face appeared to smile most
-benignantly, perhaps it was that the ancient goddess, the protectress
-of married love and faith, declared her presence, or else that the new
-Queen of Heaven felt constrained to laugh at the plight in which her
-worshipper found himself.
-
-At the same time Jole’s father was walking under the cedars of his
-garden. He was lost in the contemplation of some new stones he had
-acquired. One was a beauteous amethyst, upon which Luna was pictured
-driving her chariot through the heavens, unaware that Cupid was
-catching a ride behind her, while little love-sprites flitting about
-her shouted out in Greek, “There’s a chap on behind!” A magnificent
-onyx had Minerva engraved upon it, with Cupid in her lap, polishing her
-breast-plate with his hand to see his image therein.
-
-These scenes tempted the old man to write some verses about them, and
-while he was choosing which to begin on, his little daughter Jole came
-into the garden. He showed her his treasures and explained them to her.
-
-She sighed deeply, and said: “Ah, if all these great Powers, Chastity,
-Wisdom, and Religion, cannot war with Love, how shall I?”
-
-These words took the old gentleman by surprise. “What is this I hear?”
-he said; “has the arrow of the all-powerful Eros touched you?”
-
-“It has pierced me,” she replied, “and if within another day I am not
-in the possession of the man I love, I shall die!”
-
-“Shall I then,” cried the old man, “take upon myself that most wretched
-of parental duties--shall I go and find the chosen one, the man, and
-bring him back by main force to the most precious of my possessions,
-and courteously ask him to take it for his own? Here is a pretty little
-woman, dear sir; I beg that you will not despise her! I should greatly
-prefer to box your ears, but my daughter would die, and I must be
-polite!”
-
-“We are spared all that,” said Jole, “for if I have your permission I
-hope to get him to come and ask for my hand.”
-
-“And what if, not knowing him at all, he should prove to be a rascal
-and a good-for-nothing?”
-
-“Then you may turn him from your door! But he is a saint!”
-
-“Go, then, and leave me alone with the Muses!” said the good old man.
-
-Another Vitalis came up the steps that evening than had come down the
-morning before, though he himself least understood the change. The
-notorious monk and girl-converter did not even know the difference
-between the smile of a courtesan and that of an honest woman.
-
-As he entered the room it was richly decorated, and bore a homelike
-aspect. The delicate breath of flowers filling it was quite in keeping
-with a certain respectable worldliness; upon a snowy couch, the silk of
-which showed not a fold, sat Jole like a meditating angel. The folds of
-her dress were turbulent as a storm in a cup of milk, and though her
-beautiful white arms gleamed as she crossed them over her bosom, all
-those charms had an air of lawfulness which silenced the monk’s wonted
-eloquence.
-
-“You are surprised to find all this pomp and show here,” began Jole.
-“Know, then, that this is my farewell to the world and to the love
-which I have unfortunately conceived for you. You must help me to put
-it from me as far as lies in your power, and in the manner which I
-shall designate. When you speak to me in your present attire and in
-your clerical function I am unmoved, for a priest cannot convince me,
-who am of this world. A monk cannot cure me of love, as he knows not
-the passion, and is ignorant of that of which he speaks. If, then, it
-is your earnest wish to give me peace and turn my heart toward heaven,
-go into yonder chamber, where worldly attire is awaiting you. Exchange
-your monkish cowl for the garb of a worldly man, and then return and
-partake of a small repast with me, during which you may bring all your
-wits and mental force into play to turn my heart away from you and set
-it toward heaven!”
-
-Vitalis considered for a moment; then he decided to parry the devil of
-this world with his own weapons, and concede to Jole’s proposal.
-
-He betook himself into the adjoining chamber, where servants were
-awaiting him with gorgeous apparel of linen and purple. No sooner had
-he donned them than he appeared to be a head taller, and with a noble
-bearing he walked back to Jole, who clapped her hands for joy.
-
-A miracle occurred then and there, for no sooner did he sit in worldly
-pomp by the side of this sweet woman than his immediate past seemed
-wafted away out of his brain, and he quite forgot his purpose. Instead
-of saying a single word he listened eagerly to Jole’s prattle, who
-had seized his hand and was now telling him her true story--viz., who
-she was and where she lived, and how it was her most ardent wish to
-make him abandon his eccentric mode of life and ask her father for her
-hand, and become a good and God-fearing husband. She said many other
-marvellous things in well-set words about a happy and virtuous love,
-adding with a sigh that she well knew how vain was her longing, and how
-she hoped he would convince her of the folly of it all as soon as he
-had refreshed himself at her table.
-
-Thereupon Jole mingled some wine in a bowl for the silent monk, and
-lovingly fed him with sweets, so that his mind wandered back to his
-childhood to the time when his mother tenderly cared for the little
-lad. He ate and drank, and then it seemed to him that he must needs
-rest as after a time of sore distress, and thereupon his head fell
-toward the side where Jole sat, and he fell asleep.
-
-[Illustration: “THEY DROVE HIM OUT OF THE MONASTERY.”]
-
-When he awoke he was alone. He jumped up hastily, terrified at the
-sight of his gorgeous attire. He sped through the house from top to
-floor to find his cowl, but there was no vestige of it to be seen,
-until he noticed a small courtyard, with a heap of coal and ashes, upon
-which lay a half-burned sleeve of his priestly garment.
-
-He put his head out into the street once or twice, and drew it back as
-soon as he saw any one approaching. At last he threw himself down upon
-the silken couch with as negligent an air as if he had never lain upon
-the hard bed of a monastery; then he jumped up, suddenly tore open the
-outside door, and with dignity stepped out into the open air.
-
-He did not look to the right nor to the left, but went straightway to
-his monastery, where it so happened that all the monks together with
-their prior had just decided to expel him out of their midst, because
-the measure of his sins was full, and he was a disgrace to the church.
-When they saw him approach in his pompous worldly attire that seemed
-the last straw to break the back of their Christian charity; they
-poured water on him and hooted him, and with crucifixes, brooms, forks,
-and soup ladles they drove him out of the monastery.
-
-Such infamous treatment would at another time have been the greatest
-triumph of his martyrdom. Now too he laughed silently, but it was in a
-different sense. Once more he walked about the wall of the town, his
-red coat fluttering in the wind; a glorious breeze blew across the
-glittering sea from Holy Land, but the monk’s heart was growing more
-and more worldly, and involuntarily he turned his steps back to the
-noisy streets of the town, sought out the house where Jole lived, and
-did her will.
-
-He now grew to be as excellent and complete a man of the world and
-husband as he had been a martyr. The church, hearing the true facts
-of the case, was inconsolable to have lost such a saint, and did all
-within her power to win the truant back to her bosom. But Jole held him
-fast, and said she thought he was well enough where he was.
-
-  _Gottfried Keller._
-
-
-
-
-_MILITARY INSPECTION._
-
-
-THE officers stood about the right wing of the battalion, two young
-lieutenants and--yes, it was he--my friend and patron in former times,
-the Premier-Lieutenant von Schwenkenberg. There was no mistaking him,
-he was quite the same; the endless stretch of neck, which made the low
-collar of his uniform look quite childish, the tall and lank figure
-with the formidable-looking sword at the hip, which almost grazed the
-ground, and was in constant collision with his heels. Now he went
-to meet the sergeant a few steps. Oh, I should have known him among
-thousands by his gait! He leaned forward a trifle, and swung from side
-to side as he stepped.
-
-“Be--sure--you--don’t--forget--Sergeant Möller,” said Lieutenant von
-Schwenkenberg, “that--we--are--to--have--an--artillery-drill--on--the--
-bastion--this--afternoon. Pick--out--the--weakest--of--the--men;
-a--bit--of--exercise--will--be--just--the--thing--for--them. Lieutenant
-Schwarz--will--have--the--goodness--to--take--charge--of--this matter.”
-
-Lieutenant Schwarz was a young second-lieutenant, whom, of course,
-I did not know. It was evident that he was fresh from the artillery
-school. His face still retained that indescribable expression of
-supreme astonishment with which young officers just entering practical
-military life are wont to regard things. Everything about him was
-new--his uniform, his epaulettes, his way of dressing his hair, his
-beard; while Lieutenant von Schwenkenberg looked as if he had just
-passed through a hazardous winter campaign.
-
-Shyly I walked about the battalion and looked at the Captain, who was
-standing by a fine horse fully equipped for battle, which one of the
-soldiers was holding. The Captain’s was a short but very agile figure,
-never keeping the same position for two seconds at a time. Now he went
-tripping from the right side of the horse to the left, then darting
-behind it for a more thorough inspection.
-
-“The parade doesn’t agree with him,” he exclaimed, “doesn’t agree with
-him at all. But there’s no help for it. Misdemeanour must be followed
-up by punishment. Sergeant Möller, how often has Cæsar been to parade?
-If I am not mistaken, it was eight times. I want him to come four more
-times. Let’s have the dozen full, by all means. Confound him! We’ll
-teach him better manners than to get up on his hind legs and caper. All
-I could do to keep him from falling. Did I tell you all the details of
-the story, Lieutenant von Schwenkenberg?”
-
-“I--had--the--good--fortune--to--be--an--eye-witness,” leisurely
-remarked the lieutenant.
-
-“Ah, presence of mind, presence of mind, there’s nothing like having
-presence of mind in an emergency. The deuce! the very last thing we’d
-want on the battle-field would be a nag that stumbles and falls.--Keep
-right on, Sergeant Möller,” he added, turning to the latter, who had
-stopped calling the roll to listen to the Captain’s speech, and looked
-up to his superior with unbounded reverence. “Keep right on; never mind
-me. I always take this time to examine not only the battalion within
-and without, but the barracks as well--yes, the barracks.” Saying these
-words, he had twice pranced round about the battalion, casting many a
-glance into an open door which, as the emerging smoke would indicate,
-marked the entrance to the regimental kitchen.
-
-“What is the story about the horse?” the young lieutenant asked his
-superior.
-
-The latter shrugged his shoulders gently to and fro, and then replied,
-“The--horse--behaved--rather--badly,--the--Herr--Captain--thought--
-best--to--chastise--him,--and when--the--horse--took--it--ill,--they--
-parted company,--you--see. As--a--well-deserved--punishment--Cæsar--is--
-to--come--to--parade--for--twelve--consecutive--days--saddled--and
-packed with--the--full--equipment--for--battle.”
-
-“Seems to me that is harder on the groom than it is on the horse.”
-
-“Does--it--strike--you--so?” remarked Lieutenant von Schwenkenberg with
-imperturbable tranquillity.
-
-Now the voice of the Captain was heard again. “Lieutenant Schwarz,
-will you have the goodness to look at this man of your column.” He had
-ordered a man in the left wing to turn around, and was standing close
-before him. “I have told you, no doubt, that it takes a practised eye;
-look closely at the man, will you? Well? What is it? What do you see
-that’s wrong about him?”
-
-The young officer inspected him carefully from all sides, but he was
-bound to confess, with a shrug of his shoulders, that he saw nothing
-unusual.
-
-The Captain smiled with evident satisfaction. Then he said in a
-gratified tone, “Ah yes, a practised eye is not a thing to be acquired
-in a day or two. Just look at the buttons on his jacket.”
-
-“They are not polished as brightly as they might be,” the young officer
-remarked timidly.
-
-“It’s not that, Lieutenant Schwarz. Ye saints, it’s not that,” replied
-the Captain, raising his left hand like a mason holding a plumb-line.
-“Imagine a line drawn from the hook of his collar to the middle seam
-of his trousers. Do you discover nothing? Nothing whatever? Well, my
-dear Herr Lieutenant, it would really be expecting too much, altogether
-too much. All that will come to you in good time, no doubt. I have
-not served in the army for twenty-five years for nothing. Well now,
-I’ll tell you. The fourth button counting from the top is about half
-a line too far to the left. You think it is the tailor’s fault, do
-you? No, sir; I never make the tailor responsible for such things in
-my regiment. Saints preserve us! I always test them with a plumb-line.
-Tell that fellow to unbutton his jacket, and if you don’t find a
-_manœuvre de force_ at the fourth button then I’m very much mistaken.”
-
-The cannoneer unbuttoned his jacket, and sure enough it was just as
-the Captain had said. Instead of being sewed on, the fourth button was
-fastened with a small stick, which set it slightly awry, and brought
-its owner under the ban of the penal code.
-
-  _F. W. Hackländer_ (1816-1877).
-
-
-
-
-_THE KING OF MACCAROONIA._
-
-[Illustration: “WITH HORROR HE SEIZED THE STOCKING.”]
-
-
-THE King of Maccaroonia, who was just in the prime of life, and in
-fact had been there for some time past, arose one morning and sat
-himself down in his night attire upon a chair by the side of his bed.
-His Minister of State stood before him holding his stockings, one of
-which had a large hole in the heel. Although he carefully turned the
-stocking in such a way that the king should not perceive the hole,
-and although it was much more in the king’s line to have an eye for
-dainty boots than for well-mended stockings, the hole had not escaped
-his royal penetration. With horror he seized the stocking, put his
-fore-finger through the hole up to his knuckles, and then remarked with
-a sigh--
-
-“What good is there in being a king, so long as I have no queen! What
-think you of the project of taking a wife?”
-
-“That, your Majesty, is indeed a sublime idea,” replied the Minister;
-“an idea which I am confident I, your humble subject, should have made
-bold to conceive, had I not felt that your Majesty himself would deign
-to utter it this very day.”
-
-“Very well then!” answered the king; “but do you think it will be an
-easy matter for me to find just the right kind of a wife?”
-
-“Pooh!” said the Minister, “you’ll find a dozen!”
-
-“Do not forget that I am very fastidious. To please me, a princess must
-be beautiful and clever. And then there is another point that I would
-lay special stress on. You know how fond I am of ginger-nuts. In my
-whole kingdom there is not a person who knows how to bake them--that
-is, to bake them as they should be baked, not too hard and not too
-soft, but just nice and crisp. She must _partout_ know how to bake
-ginger-nuts.”
-
-When the Minister heard this his heart fell. But he soon recovered, and
-replied: “A king like your Majesty will, without doubt, be able to find
-a princess who can bake ginger-nuts.”
-
-“Well then, we will look about us!” said the king; and that same day
-he set out accompanied by his Minister on a journey to such of his
-neighbours as had princesses to dispose of. But it so happened that
-only three princesses were discovered whose beauty and cleverness
-were sufficient to satisfy the king, and none of the three could bake
-ginger-nuts.
-
-“I am sorry to say I can’t bake ginger-nuts,” said the first princess,
-in answer to the king’s question, “but I can bake delicious little
-almond-cakes. Wouldn’t those do?”
-
-“No!” replied the king, “nothing short of ginger-nuts will do!”
-
-The second princess snapped her fingers when he asked her, and said
-pettishly, “Go away with your nonsense! There is no such thing as a
-princess who can bake ginger-nuts.”
-
-But the king fared worse than this even with the third, who was, alas!
-the fairest and cleverest. She gave him no opportunity to ask his
-question; before he could do so, she confronted him with a query on
-her part asking him if he knew how to play on the Jew’s-harp. When he
-answered in the negative she rejected him, politely expressing her
-regrets. She liked him well enough, she said; but she had a particular
-fancy for the Jew’s-harp, and it was her firm intention to marry no man
-unable to play upon that instrument.
-
-So the king and his minister drove home again, and as he was getting
-down from the carriage he said quite dejectedly, “So this was a
-wild-goose chase!”
-
-But a king must needs have a queen, and some time later he sent for
-the minister once more, and informed him that he had given up finding
-a wife who could bake ginger-nuts, and resolved to marry the princess
-they had visited first. “It is the one who knows how to bake little
-almond-cakes,” he added. “Go and ask her if she will be my wife.”
-
-The next day the minister came back, and narrated to him how the
-princess was quite out of the reach of such offers, having married the
-king of the land where capers grow.
-
-“Well, then, go to the second princess!” But this time too the minister
-came home again without having accomplished his errand. The old king,
-he said, regretted exceedingly that it was quite out of his power to
-gratify him, his daughter having unfortunately died.
-
-The king was very thoughtful for a while, but being quite determined
-to have a queen, he ordered his minister to go once more to the third
-princess, as there was no knowing but she too might have changed
-her mind. And the minister yielded to his orders, although his own
-inclination was quite averse to the project, and although his wife told
-him it would be quite useless. The king awaited his return in some
-trepidation. He was thinking of the question concerning the Jew’s-harp,
-and the recollection was no agreeable one.
-
-But the third princess received the minister very graciously, and told
-him that once she had been quite determined to have only such a husband
-as could play on the Jew’s-harp; but that now, after all, she had come
-to the conclusion that dreams are flighty, especially the dreams of
-youth. She saw now, she said, that the realisation of her wish was
-quite out of the question, and as she had taken a fancy to the king she
-was willing to have him.
-
-Then the minister drove home as fast as his horses would go, and the
-king embraced him, and gave him a tremendous medal to wear about his
-neck. Bright flags decorated the town, garlands were hung from house
-to house across the streets, and altogether the wedding was such a
-splendid affair that nothing else was talked of for the next fortnight.
-
-The king and the young queen lived in a state of bliss and rapture for
-the space of an entire year. The king never thought of ginger-nuts,
-and that little matter of the Jew’s-harp had quite slipped out of the
-queen’s mind.
-
-[Illustration: “WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD THEY BOTH WALKED AWAY.”]
-
-But one morning the king got up with his wrong leg first, and
-everything went wrong. It rained the whole day long; the imperial
-globe fell down, and the little cross on top of it broke off; then the
-court painter came and brought the new map of the kingdom, and when
-the king looked at it he found that the land was painted red instead
-of blue, as he had ordered it; and besides all this, the queen had a
-headache.
-
-So it happened that the couple had their first quarrel; what it was all
-about they themselves did not know next morning, or if they did know
-it they did not want to say. In short, the king grumbled and the queen
-pouted and would always have the last word. After they had wrangled for
-some time, the queen shrugged her shoulders contemptuously and said--
-
-“It seems to me you might be silent, and stop finding fault with
-everything you set your eyes on, when you yourself don’t even know how
-to play on the Jew’s-harp.”
-
-But no sooner were the words out of her mouth than the king petulantly
-interrupted her with the words, “And you cannot so much as bake
-ginger-nuts!”
-
-Thereupon the queen for the first time had no repartee upon her
-tongue’s end, and succumbed into silence, and without another word they
-both walked away. The queen sat down in a corner of her sofa in her own
-room, weeping bitterly, and thinking, “What a foolish woman I am! Where
-did I have my senses? That was the silliest thing I could have done!”
-
-The king walked up and down in his room, gleefully rubbing his hands,
-and saying, “What a piece of good fortune it is that my wife doesn’t
-know how to bake ginger-nuts! If she did, I should have been sadly put
-to for an answer when she reproached me for being unable to play on the
-Jew’s-harp!”
-
-After he had repeated this three or four times his mood brightened
-visibly. He began to whistle a favourite tune, then he went and looked
-at a large likeness of the queen hanging on the wall. He got up on a
-chair and took out his handkerchief to brush off a cobweb hanging down
-straight over the queen’s nose, and at last he said--
-
-“She must have been very much put out, the dear little woman! I will go
-and see what she is doing!”
-
-With that he went out into the hall, into which all the rooms opened.
-But this being a day on which everything went wrong, the valet had
-forgotten to light the lamps, although it was already eight o’clock,
-and moreover pitch dark.
-
-So the king put out his hands before him so as not to bump his royal
-head, and cautiously felt his way along the wall. Suddenly he came upon
-something. “Who is there?” he asked.
-
-“It is I,” answered the queen.
-
-“What are you looking for, my love?”
-
-“I was coming to ask your forgiveness,” replied the queen, “because I
-hurt your feelings.”
-
-“You needn’t do that!” said the king, putting his arms about her neck.
-“The fault was more mine than yours, and I don’t give it another
-thought. But I’ll tell you one thing: two words shall be forbidden on
-pain of death in our kingdom, Jew’s-harp and----”
-
-“And ginger-nuts,” the queen interrupted him, laughing and secretly
-wiping a tear from the corner of her eye; and that is the end of the
-story.
-
-  _Professor Volkmann_ (1830-1891).
-
-
-
-
-_THE SAD TALE OF SEVEN KISSES._
-
-
-IT is quite a while ago, I think, since one day the dear God called the
-angel Gabriel to him, as he often does, and said, “Thou Gabriel, go and
-open the slide and look down! Methinks I hear some crying!” Gabriel
-went and did as the dear God said, put his hand up to his eyes because
-the sunlight dazzled him, looked all around, and finally said, “Down
-there is a long green meadow; at one end sits Barbelie pasturing her
-geese, at the other sits Christoph pasturing his pigs, and both of them
-are weeping to melt a heart of stone.”
-
-“Indeed!” said the dear God; “go away, you tall fellow, and let me see.”
-
-When he had looked he found it was just as Gabriel had said.
-
-And this was how it came that Christoph and Barbelie were weeping so
-pitifully. Christoph and Barbelie loved each other dearly; one of them
-took care of the geese and the other took care of the pigs, and so it
-was a very suitable match, there being no disparity of rank. They made
-up their minds to be married, and they thought being fond of each other
-was a good enough reason. But here their employers differed from them.
-So they were obliged to be content with a betrothal. Now, as it is
-well to be methodical in all things, and as kissing plays an important
-part in betrothals, they had come to an agreement to the effect that
-seven kisses in the morning and seven kisses in the evening would be
-quite the proper thing. For a while all went well, the seven kisses
-being duly given and received at the appointed time. But on the morning
-of the day when this story occurred it came about that, just as the
-seventh kiss was coming around, Barbelie’s pet goose and Christoph’s
-pet pig had a falling-out over their breakfast, threatening to end in
-a serious _melée_. To settle this difficulty it was necessary for the
-two to stop short of the proper number. Later, when they were sitting
-lonely and far apart by the edge of the meadow, it occurred to them how
-very bad a thing this was, and they both began to weep, and were still
-weeping when the dear God looked down.
-
-The dear God thought at first that in the course of time their sorrow
-would subside of itself; but when the sound of weeping waxed louder and
-louder, and Christoph’s pet pig and Barbelie’s pet goose began to grow
-sad for sympathy, and to make woe-begone faces, he said, “I will help
-them! Whatever they wish for this day shall come true.”
-
-But as it was the two had but one thought; as each looked in the
-direction where the other one sat, and neither could see the other,
-for the meadow was long and there was a bush in the middle, Christoph
-thought, “If I were but over where the geese are!” and Barbelie sighed,
-“Oh, could I but be near the pigs!”
-
-All at once Christoph found himself sitting by the geese, and Barbelie
-was with the pigs; but for all that they were not together, and there
-was still no possibility of correcting that wrong number.
-
-Then thought Christoph: “Barbelie very likely wanted to make me a
-little visit;” and Barbelie thought, “No doubt Christoph has gone
-around to see me!” “Oh, if I could but be with my geese!” “Oh, if I
-could but be with my pigs!”
-
-So Barbelie sat once more beside her geese, and Christoph sat beside
-his pigs, and so it went turn and turn about all day, because they
-always wished past each other. And so to this day they are short of
-that seventh morning kiss. Christoph, to be sure, was all for making
-it up that same evening when they both came home tired to death with
-wishing, but Barbelie assured him it wouldn’t do a bit of good, and
-that there was no possibility of getting things straightened out again.
-
-And when the dear God saw how the two had been wishing themselves away
-from each other, he said: “Well, this is a nice kettle of fish. But
-what I have once said I _have_ said! There is no help for it!” He made
-up his mind then and there never to grant lovers’ wishes rashly in
-future, before having made careful inquiries as to what it was they
-wanted. Later, I am told, he once told Gabriel confidentially that it
-was really a great pity that their wishes were so very rarely of a kind
-that he could grant them; and a long long time ago, when I applied to
-him in a similar affair, he did not so much as give me a hearing. Later
-Gabriel told me this story, and then I ceased to wonder.
-
-  _Professor Volkmann._
-
-
-
-
-_A COUNTRY COMEDY._
-
-
-IN the open door of the house the dark figure of a woman stood out
-distinctly against the brilliant snow--it was Eva Barbara. Without a
-word she seized his hand and drew him after her; he felt her pulses
-beat, and her quick breath betrayed her excitement. At a rapid pace
-she drew him along the silent streets, retarding her steps only as she
-approached her father’s farmyard, where she dropped his hand, and with
-a shiver wrapped herself closer in her little shawl.
-
-Suddenly the girl raised her head as if listening, and with a sob she
-said, “I am the most unhappy lass on God’s earth!” Then with a sudden
-start: “Hark! they are coming. I am yours, Paul, whatever may come.
-Sure you can depend on me. Don’t you hear them? For God’s sake, Paul,
-don’t stay here. It would be death to me to think you might fall into
-the hands of the Rottenstein lads! Be quick and away--why do you stand
-and look at me? If you care for me, go! God knows what a hard time I
-shall have of it with the old folks, without having to tremble for your
-safety!”
-
-“Eva Barbara--my own Eva Barbara! I _will_ turn over a new leaf; I----”
-
-“Oh, my God, don’t you hear how they are surrounding the house? Away
-with you, before it is too late!”
-
-Paul turned to fly--it was too late! Logs of wood came crashing into
-the farmyard, and were shivered into bits against the house. With
-a leap Martin, who was far ahead of his comrades, came bounding
-around the corner, and with a cry of rage he threw himself upon
-his hated rival. But in the face of danger Paul had regained his
-self-possession; cleverly evading the attack, he seized Martin and
-threw him down. Then he felt his hand seized, he dipped into deep
-darkness, a door was thrown to--at the same time there was a fearful
-crash upon the threshold, making the silent house resound. Eva Barbara
-quickly fastened the bolts and hooks, and for the time being Paul was
-safe.
-
-For the time being!
-
-A thrill of suppressed rage passed through the lad standing in the
-dark, icy-cold entry beside the weeping girl, while his enemies
-raged about without the house, now shaking the doors, now demanding
-admission. What an ill-fated, miserable sort of scrape was this he was
-in! He felt like a grain of wheat between two mill-stones. He dared not
-go out; his life, or at least his future bodily welfare, was at stake.
-But if he stayed, and the farmer found him in his house--and there was
-not the slightest doubt that the peasant would soon find him, what with
-the unearthly din without--what would await him then he faintly divined!
-
-Again there were heavy thumps against the door, and Martin’s voice was
-heard crying, “Open it quick! Open it, peasant, or by the devil we’ll
-smash the door! Open it--Paul Schülzle is in your house--deliver him
-over, or we’ll open fight!”
-
-“My God, my God! how shall this end?” moaned the trembling girl.
-“Hark! Don’t you hear anything? Sure enough----Oh, goodness me, father
-is awake! Come upstairs. I can’t let you into the barn because the
-door creaks, and you can’t stay here by the stairs. Come, find a
-hiding-place upstairs, in the hall or in the kitchen--come quick! Oh,
-blessed Saviour, turn this misfortune! Come! father will be here with a
-candle in a minute; if he finds us together--you know what his temper
-is!”
-
-Paul’s hand was seized again, and he was drawn upstairs; fortunately
-the resounding blows against the door smothered his stumbling steps.
-In the sitting-room the peasant was swearing about the matches that
-would not catch fire; the girl trembled. “Straight ahead you’ll find
-the kitchen-door! God be with you; I can help you no further. If father
-finds me here all is lost.”
-
-A ray of light falling through the key-hole frightened the girl away.
-Paul was alone. Cautiously he felt his way in the direction she had
-indicated, but he found no door; in fact, he did not have much time
-left to feel for it, for just then the sitting-room door was opened.
-Paul bounded into the shade and then behind the door, which the farmer
-in his excitement forgot to shut. Again Paul was safe for the moment,
-although he feared the beating of his heart might betray him.
-
-A new attack upon the door put the peasant beside himself; he put his
-candle on the floor, then pulled open the hall window, and a very
-excited interview took place between him and the men without. Hot words
-fell between the peasant and Martin, until finally Martin declared
-that if the peasant did not deliver over Paul at once he would storm
-the house in good earnest; whereupon the peasant replied he certainly
-would not have that rogue of a trumpeter in his house for a minute, but
-as for doing a thing because Martin said so, there was nothing further
-from his mind, and if there was one more blow upon the door he would
-not be slow to reply.
-
-The lads actually stepped back, and the peasant shut the window. He
-approached the door--Paul bit his lip; if he moved it, it would bring
-him face to face with the old man!
-
-But the peasant paid no attention to the door--he merely called into
-the room, “Wife, they say that scamp of a musician is in the house! Get
-up! strike a light, and help me wake the servants; the fellow shall not
-go unpunished!”
-
-[Illustration: “AN EXCITED INTERVIEW TOOK PLACE.”]
-
-“I’ve been up this long while,” replied a faint woman’s voice trembling
-with cold; “but there’s no finding those matches!”
-
-“I don’t wonder! I was so flurried I threw them in the wash-bowl,”
-replied the peasant. “Strike a light in the kitchen, and hurry up.”
-
-The peasant disappeared with his candle in the narrow passage-way which
-passed through the entire depth of the house; in the dusk a figure
-flitted past Paul; he heard a rustling sound beside him, and then a ray
-of faint bluish light streamed through a half-open door. So that was
-the kitchen! If the woman came out now the light would first fall into
-that nook between the wall and the door which harboured him--discovery
-was inevitable. He could not stay where he was--but whither should he
-turn? The approaching steps of the farmer’s wife startled him. He must
-away--just then there was only one exit possible--with one bound he was
-in the sitting-room behind the stove.
-
-Again he was safe for the moment--but he was more securely than ever
-in the trap. Where should he go when the farmer came back with his
-servants?
-
-The woman shut the door of the room and walked away along the passage
-to the back of the house. Paul stepped up to one of the frost-painted
-windows, thawing it with his breath, and looked out.
-
-A leap into the garden was hazardous, but it was not impossible. By
-the pale light of the moon he saw how the men from Rottenstein were
-surrounding the house. This cut off all possibility of escape for the
-present.
-
-He heard steps approaching; he heard the peasant’s wife talk soothingly
-to his weeping sweetheart, Eva Barbara, the maid-servants also
-endeavouring to comfort her. So then he might expect all the feminine
-inmates of the house to enter the room at any moment--where should he
-find refuge?
-
-Other sounds became audible throughout the house. He heard the farmer
-rail, the men-servants laugh and swear--whither, oh whither? In the
-room there was no nook, no hiding-place.
-
-Nearer and nearer came the women; desperately, with a curse between his
-lips, he ran out into the bed-chamber of the worthy couple. It was a
-narrow room, a so-called _rafenetle_; two thin panels of wood, about
-six feet high, connected with the ceiling above by carved lattice-work,
-just enclosed two broad beds, leaving merely a passage between them.
-The panelled walls were closely hung with wearing apparel, under
-which Paul quickly crept, squeezing himself tightly into a corner and
-resigning himself with a sigh to his fate.
-
-It was a tragic situation! How could he ever hope to leave this prison
-unnoticed? The only window was barred, and there was no other exit
-except through the room and across the hall! It was horrible! More than
-once did Paul scratch his head. As a measure of precaution he began to
-take off his boots, and, together with his trumpet, he hung them across
-his shoulders in order to have his arms and hands free in case of need.
-
-His situation was the more painful for the proximity of his beloved;
-he saw her shadow on the wall and ceiling, he heard her pitiful sobs,
-which showed him how helpless were the words of her mother and of the
-maids to comfort her--he knew only too well why Eva Barbara would not
-be comforted. How despicable he seemed to himself, crouching in his
-corner!
-
-Meanwhile the uproar in the house continued; by the zeal with which all
-nooks and corners were searched he could judge what store the farmer
-set upon his discovery, and at the same time how hot a reception was
-awaiting him if he were found. Time seemed endless until the peasant
-came back into the room shivering with cold, and declared--to Paul’s
-infinite relief, “Those Rottenstein fellows shall pay dearly for this
-hubbub! Thunder and lightning! Those fools! It’s clear as day that
-Paul Schülzle is not in this house. Like as not he got away from them
-while they were thumping on the door for dear life! He can’t crawl
-into a rat’s hole, I take it, and he’s not invisible--we should have
-found him sure as pop if he were in the house. Every corner has been
-searched--every room except the _rafenetle_, and there he can’t--humph,
-the devil! There is no knowing! Never say die!”
-
-Terror took Paul’s breath away--whither, oh whither? He heard the
-old man’s wife say fretfully, “Go along with you! Have you lost your
-senses? How could anybody get into this room, not to mention the
-_rafenetle_?”
-
-But he did not wait to hear the result of this intervention, and
-with an alacrity worthy of a better cause he crawled under the bed
-nearest him. This was no easy thing to do; first his boots and his
-trumpet hindered him, and then he found under the bed a collection of
-band-boxes, jars, and baskets filled with eggs, which he cautiously
-pushed aside, arranging them in such fashion that in case of need they
-might serve as a barrier to screen him from view. One round basket
-of eggs he very nearly knocked over; the eggs were still rolling
-and rumbling about in their receptacle as the farmer entered the
-_rafenetle_ saying, “That’s all very well, but there is no knowing!”
-
-The farmer examined the clothing hanging along the panels, then, sure
-enough, he put his candle on the floor and looked under the beds--but
-for the boxes and baskets the poor devil had been lost. So the farmer
-went back into the sitting-room grumbling, and Paul heard him say,
-“There’s nothing to be seen of him! Now I’ll have a word to say to
-those Rottenstein lads!”
-
-Thereupon a heated debate took place in the hall and in the courtyard,
-which Paul could not understand. At last the farmer clapped the window
-to, sent the servants to bed, and came back into the room panting with
-ire.
-
-“So there!” he roared, “we are well rid of the musician, and of that
-fellow Martin as well! It is well--quite well so! About Martin I am
-rather sorry, but you never cared for him much, Eva Barbara, so let him
-go--there’ll be no lack of suitors. And now, stop crying, child! Go to
-bed and sleep! But there’s one thing you must promise me, Eva Barbara:
-be sure you don’t so much as look at that trumpeter again,--that’s all
-over, d’ye hear me? Eh, will you promise me that?”
-
-“Now hush, don’t say another word, and leave the poor lass in peace!”
-interrupted his wife. “Have you forgotten that this whole business is
-your fault? Now go to bed, dear child. Don’t you be troubled; I’ll let
-no harm come to ye! Go now, the Lord will turn it all to a blessing!”
-
-To lose no word of this conversation, which made Paul’s heart beat
-faster, he had kept quite still, and now it was too late to leave his
-uncomfortable place under the bed. The maids left the room and the old
-people hastened to get into bed.
-
-Shame, rage, fear, and contrition joined to raise Paul’s bitter
-indignation against himself. So this was what his stubbornness had
-brought him--to lie in fear and trembling, shaking with cold, under
-the bed of the man whose son he might have been! To hide like a thief,
-to be so disgracefully situated that he dared not stir for fear of
-discovery. Paul ground his teeth. Suppose to-night’s adventures should
-become known! Holy Virgin! to think of the laughter and the scoffs!
-
-The peasant threw himself from side to side in a restless manner,
-greatly to the discomfort of his guest, who was vastly alarmed every
-time the bedstead creaked. And when his wife on the other side began
-to sigh audibly, the farmer said, “I say, old woman, I can’t sleep. I
-can’t for the life of me get that vile affair out of my head!”
-
-“It’s just the same with me!” was the troubled answer.
-
-“A most provoking piece of business it is, confound it!”
-
-“Swearing don’t make it any better! Don’t be foolish! The lass likes
-him better than Martin; there’s no denyin’ it! It’s not so very
-dreadful that he walked home with her!”
-
-“That’s not what I mean!” growled the peasant. “The lass will not
-be willing to let Paul slip; and, to tell the truth, for all I’m so
-enraged with the fellow, I like him better now than all the other lads.
-_That’s_ where the trouble lies!”
-
-“Good gracious! If that is what you mean----”
-
-“I might have known what was coming!” interrupted the farmer angrily.
-“There’s no such thing as talking sensible to you women-folks. It’s all
-over between the lass and Paul Schülzle, now and forever, I tell you.
-Don’t you say another word about that, whatever you do!”
-
-Except the sighs of the woman and the creaking of the peasant’s
-bedstead, it was now quiet in the chamber. Paul did not stir. Although
-the frost was shaking him, and he was biting his fur-cap so that the
-chattering of his teeth might not betray him, there was a fire raging
-within him. He was very unhappy under the bed!
-
-In feverish excitement he waited for the couple to fall asleep. After a
-while the sighs died away, the bedstead ceased to creak, but it was in
-vain he waited for the reassuring sound of healthy snoring. At Paul’s
-slightest movement the peasant would lift his head and ask, “Old woman,
-don’t you hear anything?”
-
-“Be quiet, it’s only mice a-chattering!” was the answer every time;
-but Paul was obliged to resign himself to keeping very quiet, so as to
-raise no suspicions.
-
-He suffered the pangs of hell under that bed. It was not only that he
-was growing stiff and stark with cold--every limb pained him from his
-uncomfortable position. Now and then he would consider the question of
-leaving his hiding-place, even at the risk of a fight, and so escaping
-by main force. What was there to fear? To overpower the old man was
-child’s-play to him, and before the servants could be roused he would
-be well out of the way. He would do it--yes, he would! When he had
-reached this point a tremor seized him. Should he lay hands on a man
-who had never harmed him, in his own house--ay, in his own bed-chamber?
-Paul cursed and raved, then he set his teeth more firmly in his
-fur-cap, and stayed where he was.
-
-His only hope was that in the morning the peasant and his wife would
-leave the chamber to wake the servants. This movement should serve him
-to leave his undignified retreat, and seek a transient hiding-place in
-the hall or kitchen, from whence to slip out of the house later on,
-when the farm-work had begun.
-
-This hope also was made futile by no less a person than Eva Barbara!
-Anxiety for Paul had robbed the poor child of sleep; his mysterious
-disappearance filled her mind with horrible fancies. What if he had
-come to grief by a fall! Or perhaps in his distressed search for a
-hiding-place he had wedged himself into some tight place which would
-not let him escape! There was no doubt to her that he was still in
-the house; she had seen only too well how the Rottenstein men had
-surrounded the house; an attempt at flight would have caused a great
-tumult at the least. Where could he have hidden? She wept bitterly, and
-each passing hour laid a new burden upon her soul. At last the deep,
-unbroken stillness in the house grew unendurable to her. How could
-she rest while he was in danger, suffering pain and distress perhaps?
-Softly she arose, and walked stealthily through the house, wringing
-her hands, and whispering his name. There was no reply; everywhere
-the same deep and fearful silence. Without, the Rottenstein men were
-still guarding the house. Where could he be? Overpowered by grief and
-despair, she fell upon her knees.
-
-But there was no help or satisfaction in that. If Paul was still in the
-house, he was in need of aid and succour. Above all she must master the
-situation, and gain a free hand to act in his favour. Rousing herself,
-she hastened to her parents’ bedroom, asked them to remain in bed to
-make up for the night’s rest they had lost, and saying that she would
-wake the servants and look after the household.
-
-Had she but known in what a despairing rage her lover close beside her
-was biting his cap and clenching his fists!
-
-The old people were greatly touched by this tender filial attention
-after the storms of the previous night; they praised the girl, and
-gladly assented to her proposal. The house now grew lively; a shrill
-whistle in the courtyard told Paul that his opponents had given up
-their plan and were about to disperse. Holy Virgin!--and he was still
-under the bed! Every moment lessened the chances of escape. How should
-this end?
-
-At last the family sat about the breakfast-table, on which an enormous
-dish of sourkraut was steaming. Eva Barbara came in, and without
-ceremony turned out a large potful of boiled potatoes directly on the
-table-cloth round about the sourkraut-dish. While the men and maids
-eagerly seized the potatoes, blowing them, and often shaking their
-burned fingers, the farmer shook his head thoughtfully, and said,
-“Lass, lass, if I but knew what’s the matter with ye! You look like a
-ghost, and there’s still water in your eyes! Do be sensible! Come, wipe
-off your tears and eat. Sit down; my breakfast swells in my mouth when
-I see you so woful!”
-
-“I cannot eat, not the least bit. There’s nothing the matter. I’ll
-be all right again, ere long!” replied Eva Barbara softly. The mother
-shook her head, the father growled; but they let the girl have her own
-way, and Eva Barbara walked slowly away to make up the beds in the
-_rafenetle_.
-
-[Illustration: “A PALE FACE EMERGED.”]
-
-Suddenly something began to stir in the clothing on the wall, a pale
-face emerged, and a pair of lips, trembling with cold, whispered, “Eva
-Barbara, help me!” With a scream the girl retreated.
-
-The face disappeared, and immediately the good mother put her head
-through the door, and cried, “For the Lord Christ’s sake--what is it?”
-
-Eva Barbara began to grow dizzy; rapture to find Paul still living,
-terror to find him so dangerously near discovery, nearly robbed her
-of her senses. Covering her face with her apron, she stammered, “Oh,
-dear--I don’t know--I shouldn’t wonder if it was a mouse!”
-
-“How you did frighten me, you silly girl. I am trembling in every
-limb!” cried the mother indignantly. “Is that all? The mice made a deal
-of noise the whole night long. I’ll tell you what, you’d better take
-out the old straw, and fill the ticks with new at once.”
-
-Eva Barbara was unable to reply; she only nodded her head. When her
-mother was gone, she whispered, “Keep quiet, I’ll help you!” and she
-hastened away. Before long she returned with a huge basket, removed the
-bedding, and began to fill in the straw.
-
-Eva Barbara was an uneducated girl; she had never heard of the women
-of Weinsberg, but in the simplicity of her heart she hit upon the same
-expedient. It was a difficult piece of work that she undertook; while
-she was panting under her load it seemed as if her heart would break,
-for she was deeply conscious of the fact that she was now bearing away
-her life’s happiness on her back.
-
-Hanehret, one of the servants, thoughtfully remarked, “It’s queer how
-that basket creaks, and how hard it seems for Eva Barbara to carry it,
-and there’s naught but straw in it!”
-
-Eva Barbara started, and tried to walk faster, when there was a sudden
-crash! All of a sudden her load grew horribly light, and there was a
-muffled thud behind her! She did not dare to look about her; with a cry
-of despair, “God have mercy upon us!” she rushed out of the room.
-
-The heap of straw in the middle of the room began to stir, a dark
-figure arose--slowly Paul emerged out of the cloud of dust, and sitting
-down with the resignation of despair upon the bench behind the stove,
-he put his hand under his fur-cap, scratching his head, and saying
-dejectedly, “Good-morning to you all! Here I am--do what you will with
-me.”
-
-  _Heinrich Schaumberger_ (1843-1874).
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “SHE GAVE THE FELLOW A RESOUNDING BOX ON THE EAR.”]
-
-_HOW BLINDSCHLEICHER WENT COURTING._
-
-
-BLINDSCHLEICHER was a handsome lad, but dull-witted. One would think
-therefore that he must have been a great favourite with the women. But
-the village lasses of Zesendorf were not that sort. They would not “put
-up with a fellow whom nature had but half-finished,” as one of their
-spokeswomen had it.
-
-“But nature did not leave me half-finished!” said Blindschleicher.
-
-“She did,” exclaimed the girl, “because she did not put a head on you.”
-
-He immediately seized that member in both of his hands, thereby proving
-the truth of what she had said.
-
-The fact was corroborated later by the military commission. He was
-nearly six feet high, but they dismissed him with the verdict, “too
-short by a head.”
-
-But there was one thing Blindschleicher knew--viz., that women-folks
-are to be prevailed upon mainly by flattery; and that a good head is
-not a necessary equipment for flattery and courtship is a well-known
-fact. But the handsome gardener’s apprentice had nothing that was at
-all available in his curly pate, and it must be admitted that nothing
-at all is too little. He was sweet as a fig-pudding. When he went out
-most of his button-holes were decked out with roses and rosebuds. If it
-looks pretty to wear one rose, as others do, he would argue, it must
-improve the effect to wear a number. His hair was made smooth and shiny
-with lard, and above each ear he would plaster it on each temple in
-a delicate crescent, like a Vienna dandy. He always chose bright and
-striking colours for his neckties, and tied them into knots, with long
-ends gracefully flowing. This as an indication of originality, and to
-attract the girls. But instead of the girls, the turkeys ran at him,
-and chased him with cackling vindictiveness through the village.
-
-In associating with men, he was rather helpless, and he avoided them
-as much as might be, because they either chaffed him or ignored him,
-according as their mood was frolicsome or serious. Toward women he
-put on his most gracious mien, and oftentimes he would secretly sigh,
-“Ah, if I had a wife! if I only could get a wife!” For a long time he
-could not make out the reason for his desire, but at last his feeling
-consolidated into a point, and then it grew into a thought, and he
-gradually became conscious why it was that he wanted a wife. He could
-then say to his tormentors, “You may laugh as much as you please. Here
-is one who will have me!” And there was one in particular before whose
-countenance he would melt like butter in the sun.
-
-That was Liese, the farm-maid. She was the most blooming lass in the
-valley, and he set a wistful eye upon her.
-
-And Blindschleicher confided his troubles to his friend the watchman,
-as they walked through the silent village one night. “Man,” he
-lamented, “never was there such ill luck as mine. You wouldn’t believe
-it. I’m head over ears in love with the lass, and there’s no help for
-it.”
-
-“Why don’t you take her, then?” said the watchman.
-
-“Take her, fool! when she won’t so much as look at you!”
-
-“She needn’t look at _me_. My old woman is firmly yoked to me.”
-
-“But it is at _me_ that she might look,” said Blindschleicher. “When I
-think of all the trouble I go to to make myself agreeable! And as for
-her--when I say to her, ‘Liese, good morning, Liese!’ she turns on her
-heel; and when I say, ‘How bonny you are, Liese!’ she says, ‘How clever
-you are, lad!’”
-
-“Well, don’t that please you?” said the watchman.
-
-“How can it please me, when she goes on to say ‘she will only take a
-fool.’ She’s a vixen, is Liese! And when I give her a rose, and say,
-‘You look just like it, you are as pink, and you are as sweet, and you
-are as thorny!’ she takes the pretty blossom out of my hand, and gives
-it to the goat to eat.”
-
-“Blindschleicher,” said the watchman in a low tone, “you’re on the
-wrong track to get a wife.”
-
-“I am sick at heart,” said the gardener’s apprentice, and he looked it
-and hung his head. “Time and time again have I said to her, ‘Precious
-Liese, darling Liese, you are like butter and honey; I could eat you up
-for love. I will kiss your feet, and you may tread upon me. There is
-nothing you could do that would hurt me,’ I said. ‘You may put your
-arms tight around my neck, and smother me with your cheek; it would
-not hurt me. You are like a heavenly paradise to me. I can do a great
-deal of fine talking when I once get started. Think of the ardour of my
-youthful blood,’ I said.”
-
-“And what did she reply?”
-
-“‘Go to the barber and get bled,’ she answered. ”Oh, she is a stone,
-man; she is a stone.”
-
-“Be comforted, lad,” said the watchman, who was a kind and experienced
-man. “If she is a stone, we will manage her. Stones cannot be raised by
-whining and pining, good friend. When there is a stone on the ground
-you must loosen it first by a sharp knock, then you can lift it. Do you
-understand?”
-
-“What do you mean? Shall I run into her to shake her loose?”
-
-“Not so fast, my lad. There is such a thing as a simile you must know.
-Supposing, for instance, I say you are an ass, you must not take it in
-dead earnest, but merely as a means of comparison.”
-
-“Yes, yes,” said Blindschleicher. “When I hear you talk like that I
-understand you well. You are not rude like the others, and you are my
-best friend. But if I could but have Liese!”
-
-“Women,” said the watchman with an air of superior knowledge, standing
-still and leaning upon his long staff, “women are the most peculiar
-among God’s creatures. The first human being did sorry credit to his
-creator, as is apt to be the case when you’re a new hand at making
-things. It turned out a plain wooden man. But the second human
-being--the second, you see, was much more of a success. It turned
-out to be something very different from the man, much finer, so much
-finer. The truth is, man is the job of an apprentice; woman shows the
-touch of a master. I understand women; ah, I understand them! An old
-watchman like me, who has his eyes open every hour of the night, knows
-a thing or two, good friend. If you cannot win them with dainties and
-fine manners, remember that it isn’t every bird that can be caught
-with sugar. Try some other way; do something to offend her. Not in any
-faint-hearted, playful way, but seriously and thoroughly; do something
-to her that will make her think of you, and that will give her pain
-when she thinks of you. Soon she will stop teasing you and looking upon
-you with disdainful indifference. Perhaps she will hate you; but, my
-friend, you must know that hatred is a good deal nearer to love than
-indifference is. There is many a tale I could tell you of how love
-began with anger and pain. That’s what I meant about loosening the
-stone. There is nothing like the harsh, reckless deed of a man to make
-an impression. Try it; you can’t lose anything.”
-
-Blindschleicher went his way and made extensive preparations to think
-out this new idea. For hours he walked by the side of the brook, but
-how can we catch hold of an idea when the water is making so much
-noise! He stole across the fields, but there the crickets disturbed
-him, or a dark, mysterious figure would rise up in front of him which,
-for all he knew, might be a ghost. To be sure the schoolmaster had
-said to him, “Blindschleicher, I pledge you my word, you are safe from
-ghosts!” But then, who knows! It seems wicked enough to be thinking
-out something in the silent night wherewith to offend one’s beloved.
-“Wicked or not wicked, if I could but make her have me!”
-
-It was not until he was pulling off his boots in his own room that
-various more or less attractive devices occurred to him by means of
-which he might offend her. When he was in bed he discarded them one by
-one. He thought he could hurt her most deeply by going up to her and
-saying, “Liese, you do not love me; farewell for ever, I go to die!”
-He was quite stupefied by the power of this thought. It gave the poor
-fellow a headache, and the next morning when he got up, and the sun
-shone brightly upon the flowers of the garden, he felt that this would
-not do, and he said to himself, “Best say nothing about dying.”
-
-This selfsame day was a Sunday, so he donned his tight grey pantaloons,
-a yellow flowered vest, with the ends of a cherry-coloured necktie
-fluttering over it, put rosebuds in all of the button-holes of his
-blue jacket, arranged the two little greased crescents of hair neatly
-upon his cheeks, bestowed due care upon his sprouting moustache, and a
-look in the mirror convincing him that he was irresistible, his heart
-swelled with happy forebodings.
-
-It was with solemn feelings that he walked through the shady alley
-to church; this very afternoon he would try to meet Liese, and would
-carry out his purpose of mortally offending her. She would weep, she
-would pout; he would ask her forgiveness, and then their relation would
-appear altogether in a new light. Should these extremest measures prove
-unsuccessful, then he would put her out of his mind and offend some
-other girl. If that was all that was required, why love was easy play.
-
-“There goes the girl-hunter!” called out a giggling urchin as
-Blindschleicher was passing a group of lads with a mien half haughty
-and half self-conscious.
-
-As he reached the church the bells were just ringing for High Mass,
-and the people were crowding through the door, and he joined them like
-a good Christian as he was. Turning once to see who it was that was
-in such a mighty hurry behind him, whom should he discover quite near
-his side but Liese. She was giggling with some lads, who pressed close
-about her. Blindschleicher saw the vessel for holy water wherein each
-dipped his fingers in passing. At that moment the gardener’s apprentice
-was seized with a sudden impulse. Dipping his hollow hand in the water,
-and crying, “Here is one whose devil I would expel!” he threw the
-entire handful into fair Liese’s face.
-
-Liese caught her breath, said loud and distinctly, “He is out already!”
-and gave the fellow a resounding box on his ear.
-
-And that is how Blindschleicher went courting, and what it brought him.
-
-  _P. K. Rosegger._
-
-
-
-
-“_WHOM FIRST WE LOVE._”
-
-
-_May 1._--I love him! Only thou, my journal, shalt know it, thou silent
-confidant of all my sorrows and my hopes. Without it is spring-time,
-and the nightingales warble and the lilacs are in bloom. What a lovely
-time for one’s first love!
-
-_May 2._--All night I lay awake and thought of him, and made poetry. It
-seems like the bitterest irony of fate that I must go to school to-day,
-as if I were a child!
-
-_May 3._--He is perfectly heavenly, handsome, raven-locked, with
-dark, glowing eyes, and a pale Roman face; his moustache is simply
-enchanting. There is certainly something demoniacal about him. I
-adore demoniacal men. They are so exciting and interesting. He looks
-marvellously like Lord Byron. Perhaps he is a poet, or a Polish prince
-in exile. He looks so melancholy and aristocratic. I imagine Max
-Piccolomini looked like that as Mortimer in _Mary Stuart_.
-
-_May 4._--How he looked at me as he passed me on the way to school
-to-day! I put that provoking school-bag behind my back. I trust he did
-not see it.
-
-_May 6._--I have confided my secret to Lina. She is my most intimate
-friend; our hearts are joined for now and eternity. We wept together
-for hours. Lina understands me perfectly. She too has loved and has
-suffered unspeakably, poor girl! He was an officer of the Dragoons, I
-believe, and came to their house a great deal; at last he came nearly
-every day. Lina expected his declaration from hour to hour, but he went
-and proposed to her elder sister. Lina thought her heart was broken. I
-should never have survived such perfidy. Men are very wicked and false.
-Lina has read _Faust_. He reminds her of Faust a little, she says. I
-must try to get the book. Lina raves over it, although she says it is
-very immoral.
-
-_May 7._--I have seen him again, and am in a state of unbounded
-felicity. Lina and I were sitting in the park, eating candy and talking
-of him, of course, when he came walking up the path. I pinched Lina’s
-arm; I could not speak, but she understood me. Oh, heavens! he sat down
-on the seat beside us! I felt my blood rush to my heart. Lina blushed
-too, which was very silly of her. I studied his noble profile; he was
-rapt in thought, and did not move. Lina talked and laughed quite loud;
-she is really very much of a flirt. Of course he paid no attention to
-her.
-
-_May 8, Sunday._--The whole afternoon I read in the “Book of Songs.”
-Heinrich Heine is simply sweet. What a pity it is he wrote so many
-things they won’t let me read! Mamma does not like him at all, but then
-mamma is so very matter-of-fact. I wonder if I could ever grow to be so
-prosaic? At _his_ side surely not.
-
-_May 9._--No one knows him here. I have made some cautious inquiries.
-He is probably spending some time here _incognito_. I feel pretty sure
-he is a political exile from Russia perhaps, or Siberia. Perhaps he is
-a revolutionary hero like Lafayette, or Brutus, or Kosciusko. Maybe
-he has killed somebody in a duel--he always looks so sad and unhappy;
-or he is the captain of a band of robbers, like Carl Moor, awfully
-noble and gallant of course. Heavens! what if his pursuers should come
-upon him! But I love him all the same; it is not a matter of choice or
-volition. “Man cannot loose what heaven binds,” says Schiller. I think
-that is quite well put. We went through the “Bride of Messina” to-day.
-I find a great deal in it that applies to me nowadays. I think Dr.
-Strempel saw me blush once or twice.
-
-_May 10._--I have taken him for my hero. All the girls in the class
-have a hero. Alexander the Great, or Nikolaus Lenau. Before this I had
-Count Adolar, in “The Pearl of Venice.” I call him Lohengrin, that
-sounds so poetic and unusual; and I too do not know where he comes
-from, like Elsa von Brabant.
-
-_May 11._--Mamma looks at me so queerly sometimes. She does not want
-me to sit in my room alone so much instead of taking a share in her
-household cares. It is very sad to think that parents so often have
-little sympathy with the deepest emotions of their children’s hearts.
-
-_May 13._--All is over. My ideals are broken, my faith in humanity is
-gone for ever. Would I could die or enter a convent! I can write no
-more to-day--I have naught but tears and sighs to record. I only ate
-two apple-dumplings for dinner; they all noticed it.
-
-_May 14._--No one knows what I suffer. This terrible secret of my
-poisoned youth shall follow me to my grave. Lohengrin! How absurd the
-name sounds now, like a cruel irony of Fate.
-
-What would the girls at school say if they knew that Lohengrin, my
-interesting exiled Count, my Knight of the Swan--oh, horrors!--is
-nothing but a waiter?
-
-_May 16._--Did ever maiden’s heart suffer like mine? Ophelia
-or Margaret? Hamlet was at least a prince, and Faust had his
-college-degree, entitling him to social distinction. Ah, if he were but
-a shepherd or a hunter! There are such pretty poems about such with
-princesses and noble ladies--but a waiter? It is too horrible!
-
-It was on the 12th of May, the most tragic day of my life. Can I ever
-be happy again, can I ever forget it? Aunt Hedwig was visiting us, and
-in the evening papa and I went with her to the winter garden of the
-Victoria Hotel. Papa and auntie were talking together, and I sat quite
-still,--I have grown very quiet of late,--and as I was sipping my iced
-lemonade my thoughts hovered tenderly about my beloved. A mysterious
-power suddenly constrained me to look up. Near me, leaning against the
-trunk of a palm-tree, stood Lohengrin. How distinguished and elegant he
-looked! His dress-coat fitted him like a glove, the one softly-curled
-lock of hair falling over his brow gave him an air of classic grace. A
-heavy ring of gold gleamed on his slender hand. Thank God, it was no
-wedding ring!
-
-“Waiter!” called papa--I heard it as in a dream. His eyes grew
-larger and more lustrous, a beam of light seemed to flit across his
-countenance. My heart almost stood still. He approached our table. Does
-he not see papa and Aunt Hedwig? Does he not see all the people about
-us? He bows, he says: “Do you require anything, sir?”
-
-“A bottle of Médoc,” says papa. I hear his voice as if it came from a
-great distance. I felt as if something within me had snapped asunder at
-that moment.
-
-“What a nice-looking fellow!” remarked Aunt Hedwig.
-
-“A Pole,” said my father. “He looks like the veriest fashion plate.
-Dear me, little girl, how pale you are! The wine will do you good, and
-you must order your iron pills again to-morrow. Here waiter, the rest
-is for you!”
-
-Lohengrin, my Lohengrin, and twopence for his tip! Even now it is a
-mystery to me that I did not faint away.
-
-_Three days later._--I have scratched out the last nine pages of my
-journal word for word. The occupation did me good. This episode is
-wiped out from the pages of my life. Lohengrin is dead to me. There
-is one thing that comforts me--I now have an unhappy love. I always
-envied Lina a little for hers, she put on such airs about it. Unhappy
-loves are so very interesting and poetic.
-
-[Illustration: “HOW DISTINGUISHED AND ELEGANT HE LOOKED.”]
-
-P.S.--In future I shall fall in love only with gentlemen in uniforms.
-You have something you can depend on then, and the world is so false
-and deceitful nowadays.
-
-  _H. von Kahlenberg._
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “PLANTED HIMSELF SQUARELY BEFORE THE SCRIBENT, AND
-STARED AT HIM IN SILENCE.”]
-
-_WOOING THE GALLOWS._
-
-
-IN the year 1594 the town-scribent of Nördlingen had an extraordinary
-visitor. A herculean lad of about twenty, unkempt and ragged, came
-to the court-room one morning, planted himself squarely before the
-scribent, and stared at him in silence.
-
-Unto the gruffly put question, “What do you want?” he answered no less
-gruffly, “A rope!”
-
-The town-scribent told him he had come to the wrong door, the
-rope-maker lived around the corner. But the fellow replied to the
-effect that he did not need the rope-maker, but the hangman; he wanted
-to be hanged. The town-scribent shivered, for he thought the stranger
-was crazy. He therefore called a vigorous servant before entering
-further into this extraordinary conversation.
-
-The stranger now confessed himself to be a homeless tramp, called by
-his companions Jörg Muckenhuber, and his language being pieced together
-out of as many rags of dialect as his coat was of rags of cloth, there
-was no further certificate required to make it evident that he was at
-home everywhere and nowhere.
-
-He then proceeded to relate briefly and coldly how several weeks ago he
-had murdered a travelling pedlar upon the precincts of Nördlingen, and
-also between Augsburg and Kaufbeuern a foreign Jew. Both the Jew and
-the pedlar gave him no peace at night, so he wanted to be hanged, and
-as the last murder had been perpetrated on the ground of Nördlingen, so
-the senate of that town could not refuse to hang him on the Nördlingen
-gallows.
-
-The town-scribent swore furiously, and said it wasn’t every fool could
-have that for the asking, the town of Nördlingen had built its gallows
-for its own citizens and not for villainous vagrants; at the same time
-Muckenhuber was taken into custody, and the scribent presented the
-affair to the senate.
-
-The senators put their heads together without coming to any definite
-conclusion as to whether the lad was a fool or a desperate villain. As
-it was customary, however, in those days to cast the insane into the
-same dungeon as thieves and murderers, Jörg Muckenhuber was put in safe
-keeping in the tower, and the business was getting under way in a most
-correct manner, whatever further details might be brought to light.
-
-The executioner, the parson, and the barber, who went in turn to visit
-the prisoner and sound him each in his own way, declared with one voice
-that the fellow was rough and uncared for, but that his mind was very
-clear, and that there was no gainsaying him in his confession.
-
-Meanwhile the news was scattered through town, and the good citizens
-had lively quarrels as to whether a person could be hanged upon the
-strength of his mere confession and urgent demand, even though there
-was no further proof of the deed of which he accused himself; for
-nowhere was there to be found a trace of the travelling pedlar and the
-murder perpetrated on him.
-
-And when Muckenhuber was taken out, well guarded and followed by a
-curious crowd, to show them the exact spot where he had murdered the
-pedlar and buried his corpse, he managed to confuse and puzzle his
-judges by fine-spun evasions and equivocations, but there was no actual
-evidence of the crime to be found. The prisoner, however, clung with
-tenacity to his previous declaration, that he had murdered the pedlar
-upon the precincts of Nördlingen, and must therefore be hanged on the
-Nördlingen gallows.
-
-Although German burghers of provincial towns were as well accustomed
-to highly-spiced criminal dramas in those days as they were to their
-daily bread, the sensation about this unusual case grew from day to
-day; especially was the reply of the Augsburg and Kaufbeuern magistrate
-anxiously looked forward to, to whom the acts had been submitted with a
-neighbourly request to have inquiries made concerning the murder said
-to have been perpetrated between those two towns upon a foreign Jew.
-But here too there was not a vestige of a Jew or a murder to be found.
-
-But in the scrupulous proceedings of the sixteenth century, confession
-of crime was considered a proof by far superior to any other, and
-so the judges refused to be satisfied, the more so as the prisoner
-continued to bring forth reasons to explain the absence of all
-testimony.
-
-It was deemed best to fall back upon that most unrelenting test of
-truth, the rack. How often had people who objected to being criminals
-been tortured into a confession; why should it not be possible to
-reverse the method and torture a man, who had set his mind on being a
-criminal, into a confession of his innocence?
-
-But in the torturing-chamber the senate of Nördlingen got out of the
-frying-pan into the fire. For when the thumb-screws were applied Jörg
-Muckenhuber persisted in piping his old song, and when the effect was
-heightened by forcing him into the Spanish boots, he proceeded at once
-to add to his original offence by confessing a list of robberies, each
-of which alone would have brought him to the gallows. The inquisitor
-had also a ride upon the sharp-edged ass upon his programme, but
-fearing lest the invincible Jörg should add two or three cases of arson
-into the bargain he did not press the point, and the triumphant rogue
-was conducted back into his dungeon, while the senate was writhing in
-an agony of impotent rage.
-
-To the more sagacious it became more and more evident that Jörg
-Muckenhuber was making game of the town authorities, but at the same
-time a joke of such ghastly grimness was unprecedented. Then too, no
-one could hit upon a possible motive why the churlish fellow should
-subject his neck to the rope and his limbs to the rack with an amount
-of courage and power of will that was worthy of a better cause. This
-seemed too much for the most vicious facetiousness. Moreover, not only
-the acknowledged crime but the whole person of this Muckenhuber seemed
-to have sprung up out of the ground over-night as it were. For his
-sudden appearance in Nördlingen was surrounded with as much mystery as
-his crime. There were some who confidentially affirmed that he was the
-devil, who was out for a lark and had chosen this method of twitting
-the whole of Nördlingen by the nose.
-
-However, this did not help solve the difficult question of what was to
-be done with the vagabond.
-
-Public opinion in those days generally inclined to the assumption that
-where the case was doubtful it was better to hang three innocent men
-than let one guilty one get away. And, moreover, Jörg Muckenhuber was
-guilty any way you might look at it. For if he had committed the murder
-in question then he deserved the gallows, and if he had not committed
-it, then he deserved the gallows more than ever, because by reason
-of his iniquity the senate of the town had made a confounded fool of
-itself. But as there was no unanimity in court in which of these two
-ways he had deserved the gallows, he was left for the present quietly
-in the dungeon.
-
-It was not exactly attractive there. The cell was half above ground and
-half below, in a small tower, which upon three sides faced a swampy
-bog; there was no surplus of light, but a narrow little window let in
-a bit of chiaroscuro, which would have enabled one to distinguish a
-chair from a table on a sunny noon-day--that is, if there had been any
-such objects of luxury at hand. There was more pleasure to be derived
-from outside. Under the window the frogs sang in a varied and full
-chorus. At one side there was another dungeon, occupied by an old hag,
-who obstinately refused to confess to being a witch. Her so-called
-window also faced the bog, and when the two neighbours looked out of
-the window they could converse with facility, although it was without
-seeing each other, and no one excepting the frogs overheard their
-conferences.
-
-Jörg had received the first intimation of his neighbour’s presence
-by hearing her pray aloud one day. It was no soft, humble prayer; it
-was passionate, almost as if the old woman were storming the Almighty
-with commands rather than petitions. Jörg had never learned to pray,
-and at first the devotions of the old woman struck him as very odd;
-gradually it came to look very grand to him that an old hag should
-venture to address herself to God with such vehemence, and he came to
-the conclusion she must be a giant in strength and able to hold her own
-against ten men.
-
-He did not open the conversation, but waited until his neighbour should
-discover his proximity and address him. Even heroic women like to talk.
-Soon an intimacy sprang up between these two comrades in distress
-who had never seen each other. At first Jörg often interrupted his
-neighbour’s kind words with many a scornful and dogged remark, but she
-always answered him so mildly, and at the same time with so much quiet
-superiority, that Jörg’s insolence was soon tamed.
-
-In the course of a few days Jörg knew the history of his neighbour by
-heart, but he obstinately kept silence about his own.
-
-The old woman was the well-to-do, childless widow of an innkeeper. In
-her sixtieth year she had the misfortune to be accused of witchcraft.
-A wealthy witch is a rarity. But it so happened that during the last
-five years all ugly poor women had been burned up in Nördlingen, and as
-every witch was called upon to name accomplices, and as the zeal of the
-judges increased with each execution, at last it came to be the turn
-of young, handsome, and rich women as well. There were enough of these
-unfortunate women, but none was so unfortunate, and at the same time so
-heroic, as Maria Hollin. She had been in the rack fifty-eight times,
-and had confessed nothing. She was indeed, as Jörg had rightly judged
-from her prayer, able to hold her own against ten men. The judges were
-in despair; it was out of the question to acquit a person who had
-been tortured fifty-eight times, and it was equally so to condemn her
-without a confession.
-
-Moreover, the rumour of her firmness had gone among the populace,
-and there was much sympathy with her, and a threatening murmur of
-displeasure against the much-feared judges. Up to now everything had
-gone smoothly and comfortably. Thirty-two women had been accused,
-put on the rack, convicted, and burned; not one of them had made any
-trouble. At the worst, the one or the other had to be left hanging
-with weights on her feet until the judges had had some refreshments.
-But when they came back from lunch the fullest confession had always
-rewarded them. And now, through the obstinacy of this woman, the smooth
-course of events had been most aggravatingly interrupted.
-
-And then, too, there was that provoking affair with Muckenhuber.
-
-The one would not confess her guilt, while they were hankering to
-condemn her; the other they would have been only too happy to let
-go, but even the rack was powerless to extract the confession of his
-innocence. The town-scribent thought if Jörg Muckenhuber were only
-a woman, then by a bold strategy he might be burned, as it were by
-mistake, instead of Maria Hollin, and she might be dismissed in his
-stead, so that each should have his heart’s desire, and the court
-should preserve its authority.
-
-But the worst of all for the senate was the prospect of a diplomatic
-storm that was brewing at the horizon in the direction of Regensburg.
-Maria Hollin had well-to-do relatives at Ulm, and the magistrate of
-that town, convinced of her innocence, had applied for her release. But
-that did her little good. The town-scribent thought it would endanger
-the reputation of a court to put a person on the rack for fifty-eight
-times and then not even to have the satisfaction of singeing her a
-little, not to speak of burning. But the burghers of Ulm would not be
-silenced. At Regensburg there was an important Reichstag that year, and
-the Emperor, Rudolph II., was present in person. The ambassador from
-Ulm received orders from his town to intercede for the accused, and
-as he was not given a hearing he threatened to set the Emperor and the
-Reich against the law-court of Nördlingen.
-
-The history of Maria Hollin made a deep impression upon Jörg
-Muckenhuber. Until now he had looked upon himself as a hero before his
-judges, but by the side of this true heroine he appeared to himself to
-be playing the part of a bad boy. Out of stubbornness and pride he had
-kept silent about his true history before his judges; before this woman
-he kept silent for shame. But finally he could not resist the firm,
-sympathetic voice of his invisible companion.
-
-So he was tame at last, and began to confess his tale to the old woman.
-At first he asked her if she had ever seen a pair of fighting dogs that
-had locked teeth, and so held each other as in a vice, for all the
-cuffs they got to make them let go. He and his judge, he said, were
-like such dogs. From a child he had led a bold vagabond life; he had
-enjoyed all the pleasures of a restless, adventurous rover, and had
-suffered all the deprivations and distress and shame of such. He had
-never murdered or robbed, only taken along what he needed. He was tired
-of the whole business. Life was a burden to him, but to take his own
-life, and be found later in the water or in the woods like a beast, was
-not to his taste.
-
-He had often heard death on the gallows lauded as the best, and when
-his companions spoke of their “heroes,” it was always of such persons
-as had reached the highest point of their career on the upper round of
-the ladder leading to the gallows.
-
-To put a showy end to life, which had lost its attraction for him,
-Jörg went to Nördlingen, a town which was then notorious for its hasty
-justice.
-
-Dame Hollin thereupon gave Jörg a most terrific lecture. To judge by
-the tone of her voice, he thought of her as standing in her dark cell
-like the angel with the flaming sword. For all that her sermon did
-not touch him specially. He was much more deeply contrite when in
-the silent night he compared her heroic courage and disdain of death
-with his own sorry tale, making his invincible obstinacy look like
-the caricature of her bravery. He admitted the justice of everything
-she said when with a firm hand she shook his conscience; but he did
-not admit the justice of what the others said. And when Dame Hollin
-condemned him it frightened him as much as damnation at the last
-judgment might; but before that day came he was determined to play his
-joke upon the senate of Nördlingen, and hang on their gallows.
-
-Months passed. The two neighbours grew to be more and more to each
-other. The hardened witch succeeded in implanting a little bit of
-Christianity upon him, at least as much as could be crowded through the
-narrow-barred window. Jörg accepted her dogmas willingly enough, but
-would not let go of his own dogma, that he must be hanged on Nördlingen
-ground.
-
-Jörg had locked teeth with the senate, but the senators had also locked
-teeth with each other because of this same Jörg.
-
-Two parties formed and quarrelled so heartily that they quite forgot
-the object of their quarrel. One side, as before mentioned, wished to
-hang him because he had committed murder; the other, because he had
-not committed murder. Only the town-scribent constituted, in silence
-and all by himself, a third party of mediation. He wanted to let Jörg
-get away. For, he said to himself, if he had been put on the rack the
-first day, the truth would most likely have come to light; now it is
-too late. If we wait until both parties agree as to which offence
-Muckenhuber shall be hanged for, he may meanwhile die of old age in
-the tower. This would be a clear loss to the town, which supplies the
-vagabond with food and lodging all for nothing. The town-scribent
-further concluding with subtle psychological insight that Jörg would
-probably by this time be mellow and tired of the poor fare of prison,
-it seemed to him to be the best plan to leave the door open by
-accident, so that the fellow could run away.
-
-So he gave orders to have the door of his cell left unbolted from time
-to time. Jörg noticed it, but did not stir; he was determined to be
-hanged on Nördlingen ground.
-
-But when he told his neighbour of the growing carelessness of his
-gaoler, things took a new turn. With the knowledge of the open door,
-though it was not that of her cell, the mighty love of freedom awoke
-in Dame Hollin. “If I could get out!” she cried, “it would not be to
-escape; I should but go to come back--go to tell my friends at Ulm
-of the disgrace I have suffered, and come back with witnesses and
-testimonials of my innocence. I do not want freedom; I want my honour
-and reputation----!” She did not finish what she wanted to say, but
-Jörg understood her.
-
-For some time he had been at work breaking through the thin partition
-between the two cells. His only tool was a small piece of iron, and the
-work progressed but slowly. After these words of Dame Hollin he worked
-day and night with the utmost exertion of his strength, and in the
-third night he could manage to crawl through the small hole.
-
-There was no time to be lost. This same night Jörg’s door was left
-unbolted again, so there were a few hasty words of farewell spoken.
-Dame Hollin crept through into her neighbour’s cell. Thus Jörg,
-trembling from head to foot, threw his arms about the old woman’s
-knees, and, as if he wanted to throw the fulness of his obedience and
-gratitude into one word, he cried, “Mother!” and she passed her hands
-gently over his face, feeling his features in the darkness, and crying,
-“My poor, unhappy son!”
-
-Dame Hollin hid in the house of a faithful friend, to escape to Ulm the
-next day. Jörg slipped over into the deserted cell, and when his gaoler
-came to the door in the morning to push in a dish of humble fare, he
-crouched down in a corner, wrapped in the cloak of the old woman, and
-when the man passed on to his cell, he slipped nimbly through the hole
-in the wall, and in the garb of Jörg Muckenhuber received his own
-ration. He kept this up for about a week with much skill and secret
-delight, if sorrow for the loss of his faithful comrade had not choked
-his pleasure.
-
-But one day the door was opened wide enough to admit the town-scribent,
-together with the gaoler, the former ordering Dame Hollin to follow him
-to the court-room. Jörg played his _rôle_ as long as he could, crouched
-down in terror in the darkest corners, and repelled his tormentors with
-silent gestures. But when the town-scribent cried reassuringly, “Woman,
-come boldly forth; I lead thee not to the rack, but to freedom,” then
-Muckenhuber forgot his mask, threw his cloak from his shoulders in
-impotent rage, started up indignantly and cried, with his clenched
-hands in his side, “You will do no such thing; I want to be hanged, and
-I won’t let you off!”
-
-The town-scribent tore his hair in despair and rage when he perceived
-that the witch was gone and the vagabond was left. He had intended to
-conduct Dame Hollin to freedom, but it was to have been freedom under
-weighty conditions; and now she had disappeared without any conditions
-whatsoever. Jörg, however, who was to have disappeared and no questions
-asked, sat once more firmly upon the neck of the senate. “Fellow,
-there’s no putting an end to you!” cried the town-scribent, foaming at
-the mouth. But Muckenhuber replied coldly, “It is this I complain of,
-that you won’t even try!”
-
-The senators poured bitter reproaches upon each other, at first in
-a low tone, then louder, until the storm grew, and there was a wild
-confusion of voices. Then the town-scribent silenced them all with
-his deep bass, and united the disputants with a word. He cried, “The
-cause of all this trouble is only Jörg Muckenhuber. Hang him at once
-if he does not recant his old confessions!” Jörg replied, “I do _not_
-recant!” and when the town-scribent asked him for the second time,
-“Now, I certainly shan’t recant,” and the third time ...
-
-There stood old Dame Hollin as if she had grown out of the ground,
-conducted by two of the most respectable burghers of Nördlingen and
-Ulm. She looked sharply at Muckenhuber, and said in a firm tone, “Jörg,
-you will recant your false confession!” The voice struck the insolent
-fellow like a peal of thunder. He was silent and lowered his eyes.
-There was no sound, one could hear the laboured breathings; then he
-spoke, “No other power on earth could have made me recant, but I cannot
-lie in the face of this woman;--I recant!”
-
-Meanwhile the tumult of the populace without was increasing. The air
-was filled with wild threats, and with demands for the immediate
-release of Dame Hollin. The gentlemen saw that there was danger in
-delay. After a short, whispered debate the town-scribent read aloud the
-writ the old woman was to swear to. But Dame Hollin replied that she
-did not want mercy but demanded her right. The gentlemen of the senate
-made very wry faces and began to try persuasion, but they had learned
-ere this that there was little to be gained in that way with Dame
-Hollin.
-
-After a moment’s thought, she said to her judges, “You have tried to
-make a bargain with me. Having done so, you are no longer my judges,
-and cannot give me my right. Well then, I too am ready to offer you a
-bargain. Release that wicked lad yonder, I will adopt him in child’s
-stead, and take him to Ulm with me, and see if I can do better by him
-than you have done. My property has lain dead while you kept me in the
-tower. You should refund the usury I have lost; instead of that give me
-this wicked lad. On this condition will I sign your writ.”
-
-Already the populace clamoured outside the door. The senate would have
-had no choice, even though she had demanded much more than this.
-
-As she signed the writ, she found a bill appendixed for her fare during
-the time of her custody. She returned the leaf with a courteous smile
-to the town-scribent, and as the rabble was knocking at the door he
-plucked the interesting supplement into bits as fast as possible, and
-strewed the pieces under the table.
-
-Meanwhile the chains had been removed from Jörg; he looked about him as
-in a dream. Dame Hollin took his hand, and went to the door with him,
-where both were received by the gratified shouts of the shuffling crowd.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-The old woman kept her word. In her house Jörg became an honest,
-valiant man, who in the Thirty Years’ War did great service to Ulm, the
-town of his adoption, and his name was never spoken but in honour and
-gratitude. But the witch’s counsel was forced to resign office, and
-after those five years of terror followed a better decade, during which
-law and justice reigned once more in the old Reichstadt.
-
-  _W. H. Riehl._
-
-
-
-
-_ELECTIVE AFFINITIES._
-
-
-I.
-
-HIGHLY-ESTEEMED MADAM,--I venture to write these lines to you in the
-firm belief that you, like all women of mental distinction, love
-the unusual, and hate to the utmost the commonplaces of ordinary
-conventionality....
-
-Having left the company, and wending my lonely way through the streets
-of Berlin, I felt myself to be in a state of lively excitement. The
-events of the evening passed once more before me, and ere long I was in
-that incomprehensible mystical mood, which comes so suddenly we know
-not how or whence. I was quite capable of calling to the spirits that
-seemed to float about me: “Answer me, if ye hear me!” when the sound
-of a passing carriage called me back to reality, and my gaze turned
-from the stars of heaven to a pair of star-like earthly orbs whose mild
-light shone for a passing moment with full radiance into my soul.
-
-These starry eyes belonged to a young lady who was seated by your side
-in the carriage. At that moment I was seized with the purpose I am now
-carrying out.
-
-I herewith enclose an unsealed letter to the lovely possessor of those
-gleaming stars, and I leave it to your never-erring tact to decide,
-after having read the letter, whether you will hand it to the young
-lady, who is doubtless one of your intimate circle of acquaintances, or
-consign it to the atoning flames of your grate.--Yours most sincerely,
-
-  VON SCH.
-
-
-II.
-
-HIGHLY-ESTEEMED MISS,--If Frau von B. should decide to give these lines
-into your hands, I shall consider it as a mark of confidence in me
-which encourages me in a measure to express to you a very singular
-request, as I am about to do. Perhaps you would have the goodness to
-look upon this mark of confidence on the part of so admirable a lady
-as a sort of pledge of my character, on the strength of which you will
-kindly permit me to conceal my name and social functions. At the same
-time I shall endeavour, dear Fraulein, to remain in complete ignorance
-so far as you are concerned.
-
-After these preliminaries touching the scenic arrangement, permit me to
-come to the point.
-
-I am sure you, as well as most persons possessing a lively imagination,
-have had occasion in life to observe the following occurrence. We
-stroll through the crowd of a large town thinking of nothing in
-particular, and indifferently passing a thousand faces that meet ours
-with the same indifference....
-
-And in the midst of this placid, colourless mood we are suddenly
-surprised and fascinated by a pair of eyes that unexpectedly emerge out
-of the senseless crowd to meet ours for a second and then to disappear
-again. But what a wealth of experience lies in that passing moment! We
-know for certain that never in our past life has that face crossed our
-path, but the sight has touched us with an electric thrill. And as our
-soul rises into our eyes to greet that other soul, a hundred questions
-and answers fly back and forth with the rapidity of lightning.
-
-“Who art thou? I have so much to say to thee. Secrets I scarce dare
-whisper to myself, I would entrust to thee. I feel that there is an
-invisible band between us.”
-
-“Ah, I feel it too! It would bind us closer than all other human bands.”
-
-And then comes the fear of making oneself ridiculous, and all the tame
-considerations that hamper every pure and fresh impulse. And all this,
-dear Fraulein, you and I have experienced. Our souls have met and
-recognised each other. This is a mighty fact, which you felt as well as
-I three days ago as your carriage crossed the Kurfürsten Bridge. If we
-were to meet now in society, the ordinary conventional preliminaries of
-getting acquainted would take away our naïve impression, we should be
-bereft of that elemental undeviating conviction which constituted the
-mysterious charm of our meeting. Let us then remain strangers to each
-other outwardly, trusting only to these first glowing intuitions.
-
-Let us exchange a few letters, freely and without a thought to
-conventionality. Their contents shall bind us to nothing in real life,
-and should we meet by some strange accident, they shall be but a memory.
-
-Do not, I beg of you, listen to the faint-hearted criticism of reason,
-but follow the first hearty impulse of your soul. It will lead you
-aright.
-
-With warm sympathy,
-
-  THE UNKNOWN OF THE KURFÜRSTEN BRIDGE.
-
-
-III.
-
-DEAR SIR,--I have decided to answer your interesting letter. Frau
-von B. is to read all letters that pass between us, so that I can
-enter upon this correspondence with a happy sense of freedom from
-responsibility.
-
-I am weary of the dryness of ordinary intercourse, and there is nothing
-I should like better than to talk to a man for once without reserve. I
-drop my worsted-work as the prisoner drops his chains, and dip my pen
-into the ink with the thrilling rapture of dawning freedom.
-
-Do you know what it is to do worsted-work? Have you ever thought about
-this last reminiscence of mediæval times, this glaring anachronism in a
-time of steam and electricity and enlightenment?...
-
-Liberty flows and surges about us, and life brings forth thousands of
-rich blossoms, and we sit imprisoned and--do worsted-work, or drum on
-the piano, murdering Chopin, or if we are very clever, sing Schumann’s
-songs with the pathos of dilettantism.
-
-When I met you on the Kurfürsten Bridge, Frau von B. and I were just
-coming home from a ladies’ party, to which all the guests had brought
-their worsted-work. I had really suffered under the unendurable
-weight of conversation on topics of the utmost indifference, under a
-hypocritical interest in things which cannot possibly interest anybody.
-My heart was full of bitterness, and on the way home I was considering
-the question whether such a life was worth living, whether it would not
-be wiser to run away, to adopt the garb of a man, and try one’s powers
-boldly in the stream of life.
-
-At that moment I saw you, and I felt all that you speak of in your
-letter. In that short second in which our eyes met, pictures clearly
-defined and wondrously bright arose before me.
-
-Dressed as a youth, I seemed to descend from my carriage and seize your
-hand, and you knew all. Silently we walked through the streets, hand in
-hand, until we reached your house. There, I told you everything about
-my lonely childhood, my joyless youth, and the world of dreams and
-ideals within me. You spoke earnest words of duty and work, called me
-your friend, and said we would go along part of the way side by side....
-
-After a winter of severe work came bright, sunny days of spring, and
-I felt at last that in the arms of nature, at her pure altar, I had
-received a “purer life, and the glad courage of hopeful youth.”
-
-I hope you will return my frankness in full. When we end our
-correspondence, and return after this bold aside into the track of
-everyday life, perhaps we shall bring back some new, fresh courage,
-and the graceful memory of having been for once in our lives as foolish
-as we pleased.
-
-Kind greetings from your
-
-  UNKNOWN.
-
-
-IV.
-
-HIGHLY-ESTEEMED UNKNOWN FRIEND,--Your amiable letter made me supremely
-happy. Now I know without a doubt that the mysterious quality of
-reading the soul of a being akin in spirit is no empty illusion. In
-that deeply mystical moment I recognised your charming self just as you
-describe it with winning simplicity. What you write me in many pages I
-have read word for word out of your eyes. And now that I know how near
-you are to me in sympathy and in intuitive understanding, now I have so
-much to say to you, so much to receive from you, that it were a crime
-not to tear down the paper barriers between us and to replace the dead
-letter by the living word.
-
-I only await your permission. I promise myself a great deal from this
-meeting, perhaps a friendship for life, and I warmly beg you to look
-upon the unusual beginning as an earnest of a happy end.
-
-Hoping impatiently for a gracious reply, I am, your truly devoted,
-
-  UNKNOWN.
-
-
-V.
-
-DEAR FRIEND,--Allow me to tell you that, in spite of your somewhat too
-lively imagination, I have always looked upon you as a person of much
-sense, and that there is nothing that moves me more to pity than to see
-a sensible man attacked by a fashionable craze like spiritualism. I am
-always seized by the desire to heal the patient, which seems the more
-difficult the absurder--forgive the word, but I know no better--the
-cause of the attack.
-
-[Illustration: “THE UNUTTERABLE EXPRESSION IT PRODUCED UPON MY VISAGE.”]
-
-I hope you will laugh heartily over the following story, and have a
-healthful feeling of convalescence when you have bravely conquered the
-first bitter taste of the medicine.
-
-A young widow, living in great seclusion, allows an old friend of
-her husband’s to persuade her to make a concession to him and to the
-carnival, and visit a masked ball at his house, in company of her
-brother, a comely school-boy.
-
-The latter, dressed as a young lady looks charming, makes countless
-conquests at the ball, and rides home at night in an open carriage with
-his sister, wrapped in a charming evening-cloak of hers, flushed with
-champagne, and with the triumphs of the evening.
-
-And lo and behold, upon the Kurfürsten Bridge the glowing eyes of the
-lad make, as it seems, a deep and lasting impression!
-
-A few days later the widow receives a very remarkable letter from a
-friend, which tempts her irresistibly to give him a lesson, which I am
-sure he will have the kindness to take in good part.
-
-She put herself as far as possible in the mood of her ecstatic friend,
-rummaged among her youthful reminiscences, and composed an answer which
-puts her friend quite beside himself, and convinces him that there is
-such a thing as mysterious sympathy of soul, electric glances, mystic
-bands, spirit kisses, etc., etc.
-
-And now--what do you say?
-
-In a gay carnival-humour, your old friend,
-
-  ALEXANDRA VON B.
-
-
-VI.
-
-DISPATCH.
-
-_Frau Alexandra von B----, H---- St._
-
-Had a photograph taken immediately upon receipt of your letter, to
-preserve the unutterable expression it produced upon my visage.
-
-Shall take the liberty of presenting you with a specimen ere long.
-Acceptance to be looked upon as an act of penal justice. In abject
-humility at having made an everlasting fool of himself, your friend,
-
-  VON SCH.
-
-  _Franz von Schönthan._
-
-
-
-
-_HOT PUNCH._
-
-
-THERE is one thing that is beginning to strike me as very odd in
-life. It is how you make experiences without knowing it, and time
-goes on, and suddenly it dawns upon you that such and such an event
-was an experience. For instance, you spend an evening out of doors,
-because the weather is inviting, and you don’t in the least suspect
-the gentle breeze that is caressing you of any evil design, and then
-the next day, when the rheumatism sets in, or a toothache, or a stiff
-neck, or something or other of a surgical nature, which is best met by
-an application of spirits of camphor, then you know for certain that
-you were in a draught, and you are the wiser for the experience. You
-promise yourself solemnly that you will not be caught that way again,
-but the next time maybe it is not the draught, but sour milk, or beer
-that was too cold, and instead of a swollen cheek you find yourself in
-possession of the native semicolon bacillus, which luckily is unable
-to exist in hot punch, as they have discovered at the Imperial Health
-Office. This is a great thing, for when Frenchmen raise diseases in
-their undrained seaport towns, we in Berlin don’t have to confine
-ourselves to drinking carbolic lemonade, as we once feared, when we had
-lent Dr. Koch to France, and the papers were so full of cholera that
-one hated to touch them.
-
-Hot punch is a scientific discovery, which is efficient against the
-very fear of the disease, as I had occasion to observe in the case of
-Frau Postlieutenant, who was so moved by reading the papers that she
-was once affected in a peculiar manner, and could not find her pulse
-when she felt for it, which put her in an indescribable state of mind;
-for when the pulse is gone the last stage is approaching, and it is
-time to give a thought to one’s funeral. A glass or two of hot punch
-allayed the symptoms immediately, and before fifteen minutes were gone
-Frau Postlieutenant could feel her pulse all over. She assured us that
-it was hammering in her toes quite as strongly as in her temples. She
-was saved.
-
-“Frau Buchholz,” said she, “if you had not happened to come in just
-now, who knows but the black omnibus would have had to be harnessed for
-me by this time?”
-
-“It did look bad enough,” I replied, “but not so bad as all that. It
-was enough, though, to frighten a person out of her seven wits.”
-
-“I shan’t read another paper until the fruit season is over,” said the
-Frau Postlieutenant.
-
-“There you are right,” said I. “A juicy pear in one hand, and in the
-other thrilling accounts of the cholera would be more than Goliath
-could stand.”
-
-So this was an experience once more, to the effect that not everything
-that the papers bring is good for people, and that there is no better
-thing to bring one’s pulse back than a glass of punch, provided it is
-good and hot.
-
-The Frau Postlieutenant does not belong to that class of persons who
-try to give themselves an air by being ungrateful; who, when they have
-visited anywhere, talk about the discomfort of the beds, and, when they
-have been asked out, run to tell their neighbour the next day that it
-is quite beyond them to understand how any one can venture to offer
-such poor refreshments. No, she is not that sort, for when she had
-quite recovered she sent around to invite me to take a ride with her
-to the Grunewald, and drink coffee at Paulsborn, and then back again
-by way of Schildhorn. She had hired a very swell turn-out for the
-afternoon, first-class, with a coachman in livery, whose coat-tails,
-gorgeous with buttons, hung down from the box like a yard and a half of
-starry sky.
-
-It is not to be denied that the further end of the Kurfürstendamm,
-where there are no more houses, is pretty sandy, and the dust is given
-to flying about at a great rate; but as I had on my potato-coloured
-dress, trimmed with light brown satin, I did not suffer perceptibly,
-but the Frau Postlieutenant, in her black gown all covered with fine
-braiding, soon looked as if she had been done up in packing paper.
-Every vigorous breath of air brought some of the landscape between our
-teeth, where it gave a horribly rasping sound, but we bore up bravely,
-knowing that in Paulsborn the coffee-pot was awaiting us with its
-soothing contents.
-
-Our conversation was of a very refined strain, chiefly about the lack
-of really cultured society, which naturally led us to talk about the
-Bergfeldts. Frau Postlieutenant admitted that Frau Bergfeldt might have
-many excellent qualities, but she for her part should certainly never
-be willing to ride through the Grunewald with her in an open carriage.
-
-“Do you see, Betty,” I said, “what delicate distinctions the Frau
-Postlieutenant makes? This afternoon will be one of our proudest
-memories.”
-
-Mila also said that the weather was exquisite, and there were so few
-common people on the road. They never went anywhere on Sundays, she
-said, because the company was so promiscuous.
-
-Betty, who had been reading a good deal lately about human rights and
-the equality of the classes, was going to reply, but fortunately the
-carriage stopped just then before the lodge at Paulsborn. I am sure
-there is no class or rank that I despise, and I respect everybody that
-gets an honest living; but for all the books in the world, and all the
-talk about equality, I don’t feel in the least inclined to give a _thé
-dansant_ to the milkman and the chimney-sweep.
-
-  _Julius Stinde._
-
-
-
-
-_WOMAN._
-
-
-IN his relation to women man is always more or less of a fool, whether
-he be their husband, lover, counsellor, or friend. He explains the
-same thing to them over and over again; he declares, he demonstrates
-with a will; he would have it thus and so, because only in this wise,
-and at such a time, will it fulfil his purpose; he points the argument
-and he grounds it with such explicitness that a very sign-post would
-strike root at listening to him; he accents the _casus quæstionis_ with
-all possible pantomime, and with all logical emphasis. For a moment
-the lady fears the threatening storm; but as for the mental effect,
-the effect which the argument should make as such, which truth should
-make as truth,--for that her ladyship has no respect; indeed she does
-not even respect law and justice with all her heart, but only under
-compulsion, and driven thereto by despair.
-
-Man may talk as much as he pleases; the spoken word exerts no potent
-influence over a genuine woman. So long as her emotions are strongly
-affected, the whole line of argumentation to which the word gives
-expression seems to her but a piece of academical man-invented
-pedantry--the learned twaddle of the schools. She inclineth not her
-ear to _reasons_; she considers them an intolerable imposition, an
-encroachment upon the realm of her sentiment and the supremacy of her
-feminine intuition. Her logic is passion; she feels but her mood,
-her interest; she sees things and relations but as they regard her
-personally. Whether there is an injustice to others implied, and what
-is the true import of things _per se_, all that is rarely comprehended
-and retained by a woman where her interest or her antipathy comes into
-play. In the entire course of the clearest and concisest exposition
-the fair listener is occupied only with her excitement and opposition,
-and never with the subject in question and its importance. The spoken
-word, as soon as she is required to acknowledge its office as bearer
-and representative of spirit, to value its absolute potency, is to her
-but empty sound. At the last she yields to pathos--to emphasis, to
-oratory, as she might do in a play. The dialectics affect her possibly
-by their eloquence, diction, and plastic qualities, rarely by the force
-of conviction. When all his arguments are exhausted, and the speaker
-looks forward to the effect for the sake of which he has marshalled
-all his rhetorical art and logic, and taken his eloquence into both
-hands as it were, Madam comes back to the same fatal point, to the same
-nonsense from whence she started; and all the forces of rhetoric, all
-the concentrated reasoning goes for nothing.
-
-Now the man’s temper rises, and he waxes indignant; a piece of copper
-is finally persuaded by the hammer to become a tea-kettle; words can be
-engraved on stone and steel, why not upon the _tabula rasa_, the blank
-daguerreotype-plate of a woman’s mind?
-
-The quietest, most serene of men must despair when there is no
-appealing to human reason. But Madam _shall_ be convinced. He counts
-again the serried syllogisms on trembling fingers, with flashing eyes
-and tremulous lips, with a voice half suppressed by rage; every word
-is accentuated as if it were to conjure up spirits and wake the dead.
-Arguments are applied like thumb-screws, the entire demonstration is
-held up menacingly like a pistol with trigger drawn; she is accused of
-reason, and in the next moment it is demanded of her, as one demands
-the evidence of his five senses from a person suspicious of insanity.
-Madam is asked to declare, brief and plain, whether she had understood;
-she is not to say what she will do or not do; the matter under
-discussion and its fulfilment is to remain secondary; the man wants
-naught but the satisfaction of an acknowledgment that he is right,
-that his better-half possesses and respects human reason. All material
-interest is to be set aside; her ladyship shall have quite her own way;
-it is only demanded that there be a declaration in the interest of
-truth, of logic, of human dignity; but of this the fair sufferer in the
-cause of Reason is not capable, it is asking too much of her feminine
-nature, it breaks her heart. She feels herself ill-treated; in her
-excitement she has heard nothing but words, and like a tragedy-queen,
-she has been occupied only with her grief. She comprehends naught
-but her boundless misery, and the axiomatic barbarity of the genus
-man. And the tears she has long repressed burst forth, washing away
-demonstrations, syllogisms, and all; _that is a woman’s logic_.
-Nature will not be forced, and least of all woman-nature. Dosed with
-argumentation and logic, it loses appetite, fulness, wit, complexion,
-grace, amiability, and vivacity. A platonic friend of the ladies is, as
-a rule, an unmanly creature; that is, quite as unreasonable and weakly
-constructed as the female to whom he feels sympathetically drawn. Manly
-differences and manly reconciliations are quite out of the question
-in so unnatural a relation. Especially is there one case which calls
-for commiseration--viz., when a genuine man is called upon to be the
-dependant, the counsellor, and the gallant friend of a vain old hag
-abandoned of all graces; when, for instance, a son-in-law is condemned
-to manage the affairs of madam his mother-in-law. Either the lady is
-ungently set to rights, or else his unbounded respect for old age
-brings the son-in-law to an untimely grave. With the most uncongenial
-male one can discuss a question, and there is a possibility of arriving
-at an understanding or compromise; with every man some manœuvre will
-catch, but never with a woman who thinks her interest and the authority
-of her wilfulness endangered. In this desperate case she is destitute
-of reason and character, without method and consistency, without
-understanding and common justice, an enemy of all business principles
-and all promptness, ay, even without conscience and pity.
-
-She would like to make a bargain but not risk anything; yes, she will
-risk but not lose anything; yes, she will lose but it must not cost
-her anything. All old ladies are parsimonious; they have a passion
-for playing cards, but there is always the one condition that their
-cavalier, with dutiful politeness, lets them win his money. Dull
-are all old ladies, and hard to entertain if they cannot indulge in
-weather-worn flirtations, or if they do not perceive themselves to be
-the objects of devotion and attention. Ignorant of affairs are all
-ladies, the old and the young; but the old never to their disadvantage
-where money plays a part. Suspicious are they all by unalterable right,
-and curious because they are suspicious, if for no other reason. In
-some cases they are compassionate--_i.e._, in cases of illness, of
-which they have more innate knowledge and power of subtle diagnosis
-than an experienced physician gets to his dying day; but toward their
-creditors they are worse than barbaric, they persecute them without
-sense or reason.
-
-Women are always mixing up the most insignificant things with the most
-important; the details with the principal points, the person, and the
-cause.
-
-Neither an old barrister nor a young lawyer can bring them to see the
-_punctum juris_, for they have as little sense of right and justice as
-a Hottentot, or an Englishman making a bargain.
-
-Of two evils women cannot choose the lesser until the greater is hard
-upon them.
-
-They want to build a large house, for instance, but are unwilling to
-lay a deep foundation; it is to have three storeys, but without the
-inconvenience of stairs, and there must be a cellar in each storey;
-else what is the use of having an architect for your lover, or
-indulgent husband, or friend? They want to go a-travelling, but at the
-same time things must be more comfortable and cheaper than at home;
-there is to be no luggage-waggon, but of course they must have twelve
-trunks and a half, and by dint of much coaxing they will spare you
-the half. Their goal is toward the north, but they wish to drive in a
-south-westerly direction, because it blows into the carriage from the
-other side.
-
-A woman has leased her farm, and is afterwards indignant at the good
-harvest which she might have had instead of her tenant. At last she
-has sold the estate, and has the money safe in her pocket, but she is
-quite taken by surprise at the thought of moving and giving up the old
-homestead. A woman is always greatly disconcerted to hear that she
-cannot sell things and keep them at the same time.
-
-  _Bogumil Golz_ (1801-1870).
-
-
-
-
-_A CHRISTMAS TALE._
-
-
-IT is a most charming thing to compose fairy-tales at Christmas-time.
-But there are difficulties to contend with, take my word for it, dear
-reader. I am an honest sort of fellow, who never makes a murderer’s
-den of his heart, as the proverb says. So I will confess that I have
-a strong aversion to telling any particularly preposterous lies to
-the good people who may chance to read this, by relating wonderful,
-supernatural tales, and calling forth an impression as if I had elves
-to black my boots every day of my life. Ah no! sooner than do that I
-will give up the whole secret as to how the following story came to me,
-and at best I cannot swear that it is a pretty one. I said to myself,
-“Good friend, you must cultivate a certain mood; conjure up the breath
-of the woodlands about you, and all the rest will follow.” This was not
-so very difficult. I bought a little fir-tree, and set it up among the
-folios of the oaken table in my study.
-
-It was a nice little tree, and I pictured to myself the spot in the
-forest where it came from: a snow-covered opening, enclosed by tall
-dark pines, the edges thickly set with various young evergreens which
-must needs be thinned out. I smelled of the tree until my nose burned
-under its prickly needles. Ah, how sweetly aromatic! Like shades out
-of the lap of eternity, the Christmas-eves of long ago rose up before
-me, with many sweet memories interesting only to myself, with hosts of
-fairy-tales which Grimm and Ludwig Bechstein have long since put into
-charming books. But soon I perceived that the breath of the fir-tree
-would not suffice for my purpose, and that my mood required to be
-worked upon by means of other aids. I thereupon pulled down the blinds,
-although it was noon, and lit my large lamp, thinking of a well-known
-Vienna novelist, who is in the habit of putting himself into the
-bloodthirsty and terrible train of thought which serves his purpose by
-means of a piece of black cloth and four burning tapers, upon which he
-gazes in the pauses between his work. My large lamp sings, moreover,
-which is a quality that cannot be prized too highly, for oil-lamps do
-not as a general thing feel called upon to yield sweet music. As the
-lamp burned and hummed, I took great pains to start up a rousing fire.
-It roared and sputtered with a will, for the wood was somewhat damp.
-But this was all the better, for a good, noisy fire plays a great part
-in literary difficulties. Hereupon I made myself some tea in my little
-tea-urn, which puffs and spits like a furious cat, and lit my cigar.
-The scene now comprised--
-
-  A fragrant fir-tree.
-  A burning and singing lamp.
-  A roaring and sputtering fire.
-  A puffing and spitting tea-urn.
-  A glowing and smoking cigar.
-  A meditating poet.
-
-I will not deny the fact that at this point I addressed some words of
-stern exhortation to myself.
-
-“Carl Pfründner,” I said, “if you don’t catch hold of a brilliant idea
-now, you never will. Such a comfortable state as you are in would
-inspire a chimney-sweep to write poetry. Suppose you get up something
-about an “Enchanted Sparrow,” or a “Bewitched Harlequin,” or a “Noodle
-in Luck””? As I was still pondering, my eye-lids grew heavy, and I
-fell asleep. I scorn to make use of the threadbare artifice of telling
-you that a brilliant thought came to me in my sleep. On the contrary,
-my nap was dreamless, and I awoke only strengthened in my dearth of
-ideas. The fir-tree was as fragrant as ever, the lamp and the fire
-still burned, and all the other aids to my imagination were still
-there. I now lit a second lamp, placing it upon the antique desk, and
-gazed thoughtfully into the hollow space between the drawers of the
-upper part, which can be shut off by a little sliding door. Thousands
-of times before had my eyes rested on that very spot, as if all
-possible subjects were contained therein, and my pen had but to choose
-before transferring them to paper. But never before had I looked with
-such particular interest at the small carved bar running across the
-partition.
-
-This bar is removed about a hand’s-breadth from the back of the ancient
-desk, which came down to me from the last century. I had always taken
-it to be nothing but an ornament to hide the rough board at the back.
-This time I suppose I held my head a little lower than usual, for I
-suddenly beheld a bolt behind the carved bar, which, when pushed back,
-fitted exactly into a groove cut into the upper edge of the bar. It was
-this circumstance which drew my attention to the said bar. I pushed the
-bolt back and forth, but it was back so far in the dark that I could
-not see how it influenced the bar. A couple of matches, used with great
-caution near the rotten wood, only showed me that the position of the
-bar remained unchanged. While I was pondering the object of the bolt,
-I made a second discovery. Far back behind the bar there was a narrow
-slit in the wood, like those which one sees on children’s earthen
-savings-banks. This was the more curious as the edges of the slit, as
-I approached it with a candle, appeared to be whetted off as if, in
-times past, they had frequently come in contact with hard objects. The
-resemblance to the slit of a savings-bank tempted me to drop in a coin.
-Of course I sacrificed only a kreuzer to this experiment, pushing it
-slowly through the hole, and then letting it drop.
-
-Heavens! what was that? The kreuzer fell first upon wood, judging by
-the sound, then it seemed to roll down some distance, and fell with
-a metallic sound. There was no doubt then that the desk contained a
-secret drawer, the existence of which I had never even suspected;
-and over and above this, it was evident that this secret drawer was
-designed especially to harbour coins, as the opening was not suited to
-paper-money or documents. The metallic ring gave good reason to suppose
-that the kreuzer had not fallen into an empty wooden drawer, but had
-joined the society of other coins filling the secret partition up to a
-certain height.
-
-I beg the reader to put himself in my position. Here I have a desk
-dating from the last century, my rightful property, and containing a
-secret drawer, which harbours, in all probability, a treasure of gold
-coins. I had often wondered at the tremendous weight of the old desk,
-and sometimes the motion of writing at it seemed to call forth a softly
-ringing sound. And now in this prosaic age my hand was destined to come
-upon a hoarded treasure, a treasure of gold and mayhap some other rare
-valuables! I trembled with excitement, and would have knocked down any
-one who in this supreme moment had asked me to think of that confounded
-fairy tale, not to mention writing it. My one thought was how to open
-the secret drawer.
-
-At first I tested the carved bar. It was immovable. I threw in another
-kreuzer, and, aided by the sense of hearing, tried to locate the secret
-drawer. Plainly I heard the metallic ring once more. It seemed to come
-from behind the carved bar, but the latter would not budge.
-
-I will not tire the reader, as I did myself, with my labours of
-research. For two hours I worked in the sweat of my brow, taking the
-old desk to pieces, so far as that was possible, without coming any
-nearer to the solution of the mystery. Furious at last, I ran out to
-get a hatchet, and swung it with might to crush all obstacles, when
-once more my eyes fell upon the left-hand set of drawers that I had
-put upon the floor during my search, and I laid the axe aside. Both
-of the drawers showed grooves along the sides, which were evidently
-there for some purpose, probably in order that they might be fastened
-from the side, frustrating any attempt to draw them out. Mastering
-my excitement, I put the drawers back in place, and saw now that the
-carved bar exactly corresponded to the position of the grooves. I
-tried to push it to the left, a thing I had of course not thought of
-before--it moved, and fitted as snugly as need be. Now, treasure,
-your last hour is come; that’s what I call a Christmas present worth
-having! Two seconds later the drawers were out, I pushed the carved
-bar around further, and behold, two small, dust-stained drawers were
-revealed. I put out my trembling hand----
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-I would say here that there must have been infamous rascals in the past
-century, who, not content with wantonly causing great excitement to
-honest people of these modern times, steal away their time, which they
-might have spent in writing a tolerable fairy-tale. Is there any one
-that can tell me why in the world one of those ancient fellows should
-have put the key of his street-door into a secret drawer? I wish it
-were the key to paradise which he had forgotten! The vicious old sinner
-might roast in purgatory so long as I lived, for of course I left the
-rusty key, together with my two kreuzers in the secret drawer, adding
-my curse.
-
-Every sympathetic Christian soul will understand that after this
-heavy disappointment I was not in the mood to spin out the graceful
-fairy-tale I promised. Indeed the holidays were quite spoiled for me
-that year!
-
-  _Eduard Pötzl._
-
-
-
-
-_THE CASE OF MINCKWITZ._
-
-
-IN the course of the past month I have been called upon to bear the
-most acute sorrow, dear friend, of which a fine-strung soul like mine
-is capable. Indeed, my friend, terrible things have occurred! I am
-_misunderstood_! And misunderstood by whom? You will scarce believe
-me when I tell you, but it is even so: misunderstood by Professor
-Johannes Minckwitz,[8] of Leipsic, the great epic poet and literary
-connoisseur, for whom I feel the deepest reverence and the most tender
-affection.
-
-Hear the sad news. One morning as I was innocently turning the leaves
-of my “Neuhochdeutschen Parnass,”[9] my thoughts naturally enough
-wandering somewhat, my faithful maid-of-all-work stepped over the
-threshold of my door with weeping eyes.
-
-“What in the world has happened to you?” I asked in great
-consternation. “Has your lover proved faithless, Thrine?”
-
-“I shall have to leave this place, sir,” sobbed the honest creature.
-
-“I don’t understand you, Thrine; express yourself more explicitly.”
-
-“You are dishonoured! And sooner will I starve than serve a dishonoured
-master, for folks do say that ‘a servant is no better than his master,’
-and I am a respectable woman. Here is the paper, you’d better read and
-see for yourself!” Thrine sobbed bitterly, and handed me a number of
-the Leipsic local paper, containing an article heavily marked with a
-red pencil, and thereby recommending itself specially to my attention.
-
-No sooner had I glanced over the first lines of the terrible article
-than I grew dizzy, and therewith began to tremble convulsively. Thrine
-fainted away. Picture the scene to yourself, dear friend. Without raged
-the storm. Ah, the situation was dramatic. From the paper I gathered
-that Professor Johannes Minckwitz, in just indignation over the last of
-my harmless letters, had sued the editor of the _Salon_ for misuse of
-his name, and for literary forgery, and had entrusted Dr. Coccius, a
-lawyer in Leipsic, with the impeachment.
-
-[Illustration: “I GLANCED OVER THE FIRST LINES OF THE TERRIBLE
-ARTICLE.”]
-
-“Thrine,” I began, after an effective pause, “I begin to understand
-that we must part! You knew me in happy days of yore, do not forget
-me now when sorrow is breaking in upon me. One service I would ask of
-you before parting, it is the last. Do me the favour to accept the
-“Neuhochdeutschen Parnass” as a token of remembrance from me. You
-always need paper to clean the windows, I know. Fare-thee-well, Thrine!”
-
-I was left alone with my anguish. Dishonoured, I cried, dishonoured!
-Misunderstood, indicted! How different was it, oh _Kleinstädter_, when
-you glided innocently through the pages of the _Salon_ in the company
-of better wits than Minckwitz! Johannes turns from me, and
-
-    “Wo ich ihn nicht gab,
-    Ist mir das Grab.”
-
-So “The Death of a Youthful Hero” did not flow from the pen of the
-great poet! Never was I more surprised than over this discovery. I
-am to stand before the jury; I shall be condemned to dishonourable
-penalties--in a word, like the knapsack of the lieutenant, I am _perdu_.
-
-The _Kleinstädter_ before the jury? Since I have heard that in the
-“Lawyer Hamlet” the jury are brought upon the stage to do nothing at
-all, I have a very clear impression of this horrible situation. In this
-“Lawyer Hamlet,” which, by the way, has been very scantily advertised
-(indeed scarce thirty papers devoted more than five columns to a
-detailed account of the piece), there is a certain Baron von Sonne who
-defends all poor people, and takes this opportunity of speechifying on
-various topics. This Baron von Sonne is the man for me; I shall turn to
-him in my extremity. And as I need not fear that the unknown author of
-“Lawyer Hamlet” will impeach me for misuse of his name--a guilt which
-he himself has been careful to avoid--I will herewith give the last act
-of the play, that is to say, the last act as it would have read if the
-accused had been the _Kleinstädter_ instead of Stella.
-
-Here goes then--
-
-
-LAWYER HAMLET.
-
-FOURTH ACT.
-
- (_The court-room. At the left the benches of the jury. In the middle
- a table for the judge. At the right two small tables for the Crown
- solicitor and for the defendant. To the front a bench for the accused.
- As the curtain rises the judges are seen to enter. The jurymen take
- the seats appointed. The Kleinstädter, with his hands and feet
- securely fettered, is dragged into the room by gens d’armes. The
- defendant, Lawyer Hamlet, exchanges some words with the accused. The
- court solicitor breathes revenge._)
-
-
-FIRST AND LAST SCENE.
-
-_Chairman Lehmann._ I request the audience to remain quiet; at the
-first signs of applause or displeasure all persons occupying the
-gallery will be turned out. The accused will rise from his seat. (_The
-Kleinstädter rises, his chains clash, the audience shudders._) What is
-your name? (_The Kleinstädter looks perplexed, and does not reply._) Do
-you hear what I say? I asked you what your name is?
-
-_The Accused_ (_greatly embarrassed_). Oh, Mr. Chairman----
-
-_Chairman._ Well now, go ahead! What is your name?
-
-_The Accused._ My name’s _Lehmann_ too.
-
-_Chairman._ You are accused of having published a poem in the Salon
-under the name of our honoured and esteemed Professor Johannes
-Minckwitz, and so to have passed off your own production for his. What
-have you to say for yourself?
-
-_Accused._ Nix.[10]
-
-_Lawyer Hamlet._ Gentlemen of the jury, I beg that you will note this
-“nix”; it is of the greatest importance.
-
-_Chairman._ I must request the defendant not to interrupt the
-proceedings. Prisoner, no doubt you are aware of the fact that it is
-culpable to assign to Professor Minckwitz the name of poet--that is, of
-course I mean poet of verses which he did not make.
-
-_Accused._ I did not know it, Mr. Chairman; I am innocent.
-
-_Lawyer Hamlet._ Gentlemen of the jury, I beg that you will note these
-words; they are of the utmost importance to the following transactions.
-
-_Chairman._ I wish to ask whether the accused has ever read the poems
-of Professor Minckwitz.
-
-_The Accused_ (_in violent excitement_). Never, Mr. Chairman, never! My
-record is spotless.
-
-_Chairman._ Why did you not read the poems?
-
-_The Accused._ All my efforts to obtain the volume were fruitless. I
-called upon three of my friends who possess a well-equipped library;
-two of them threatened to impeach me for libel, the third kicked me
-down stairs.
-
-_Chairman._ You may sit down. (_To the jury._) A number of witnesses
-have been summoned before the court whose names the _Kleinstädter_
-is also charged with having forged. It seems indeed that forgery of
-names has been systematically indulged in by the prisoner. (_To the
-bailiff._) Bid the witnesses enter.
-
-(_General tumult. Chairman’s bell._)
-
-_Chairman_ (_to first witness_). What is your name?
-
-_Witness._ Dr. Max Hirsch.
-
-_Chairman._ Not related to the accused? Not in his service?
-
-_Witness._ No.
-
-_Chairman._ In the _Kleinstädter’s_ second letter a speech is quoted
-which purports to have been delivered by you in Parliament, beginning,
-“In England ... Sheffield ... partnership ... etc.” Is that correct?
-
-_Witness._ No. (_Sits down._)
-
-_Chairman._ Second witness: His Majesty the Emperor of Siam. In his
-fourth letter the _Kleinstädter_ relates how your most serene Highness
-said to your Highness’ servant among other things, “Ra-phra, how could
-my predecessor condemn a man of your integrity?” Is that true?
-
-_Witness._ Never a word of it, by Jove. (_Sits down._)
-
-_Chairman._ Third witness: His Excellency the Imperial Chancellor
-Freiherr von Beust.
-
-_Lawyer Hamlet._ I protest against the examination of this witness. Mr.
-Chairman and Judges, without venturing to impute motives not strictly
-impersonal to the witness, I feel it my duty to call attention to the
-fact that the relations between the accused and the witness are too
-close to assure an unbiassed testimony. Both are countrymen, both are
-great men; in the name of my client I move that this witness should not
-be cross-examined.
-
-    (_The judges put their heads together. After some time the Chairman
-      announces that the court rejects the arguments of the defence as
-      irrelevant, and demands the cross-examination of the witness._)
-
-_Chairman._ Freiherr von Beust! Not related to the accused?
-
-_Witness._ No.
-
-_Chairman._ Not in his service?
-
-_Witness._ No.
-
-_Chairman._ In his fifth letter the _Kleinstädter_ quoted a long
-telegram with the signature of your Excellency, which your Excellency
-was said to have addressed to the diplomatic representatives at the
-_Journalistentag_. Will your Excellency have the kindness to inform us
-as to the precise facts?
-
-_Witness._ Well, now, good friend, I’m afraid I’ll not be able to help
-you. I have sent a good many telegrams in my day.
-
-_Chairman._ Thank you. (_Witness leaves the stand. Chairman addresses
-the jury._) Provided the gentlemen of the jury have no objections
-to offer, I will cross-examine the other witnesses all together.
-Fourth, fifth, and sixth witnesses: Victor Hugo, public writer on the
-Isle of Guernsey; Richard Wagner, musician _in spe_, and just now in
-Switzerland; and third, the man who wrote the prize novel! Gentlemen!
-in the letters of the _Kleinstädter_ he quotes, or pretends to quote,
-from your writings; from you, Victor Hugo, a chapter from an unprinted
-novel about Barbara Ubryk, entitled, “_La nonne qui ne rit pas--mais
-pas du tout_.” The chapter to be headed, “Naxos, nix, nox, nux,” and
-beginning, “Night. Deep night, gloomy, dark. Upon the ground rotten
-straw. Husks and stems without fruit. In a word, straw.” From you, Mr.
-Wagner, he quoted verses from _Rheingold_--
-
-    “Winselnde Winde
-    Wagalaweia!
-    Oh Eselinde,
-    Oh Eseleia!”
-
-From you, prize-crowned poet, the novel, _The Bloody Tragedy at the
-Churchyard_. Are these quotations authentic--are you the authors of the
-same?
-
-_Witnesses_ (_in concert_). No. (_They sit down._)
-
-_Chairman._ Has the accused anything to say for himself?
-
-_The Accused._ Nix.
-
-_Chairman._ The list of witnesses is exhausted; the representative of
-the plaintiff, the Crown Solicitor, has the floor.
-
-_Crown Solicitor._ Never, gentlemen of the jury, did I fulfil the
-serious and difficult function of my office with a more quiet
-conscience or a lighter heart. There is not the faintest doubt stirring
-within me, no shadow of uneasiness falls upon me; the guilt of the
-accused is clear as day! We have here before us a hardened villain, a
-sinner of the deepest dye. What has occurred? A well-known magazine
-brings out a poem under the name of “Minckwitz.” The poem is not by
-Minckwitz; the forgery is evident. Taken alone, the fact of choosing
-this form of criticism would not be criminal; but, gentlemen, when
-this misuse of a writer’s name has the result of lowering him in
-public opinion it is decidedly culpable. And here this is the case. If
-Minckwitz were a poet of distinction, criticism would do him no harm;
-but as the _Kleinstädter’s_ criticism is just in all points, it _does_
-harm Herr Professor Minckwitz, and lowers him in public opinion. The
-defendant might perhaps say that there is no penal law in the world
-which forbids criticism of a poet, and that the satire in question did
-not attack Minckwitz the man, but Minckwitz the poet. Do not permit
-yourself to be influenced by such sophistry. It is impossible to attack
-the _poet_ Minckwitz, because there is no such person; whoever attacks
-Minckwitz attacks the man. I would be the last to restrain the freedom
-of speech. I admit the value and the necessity of criticism. But the
-chosen subject must be worthy of criticism. If Minckwitz takes pleasure
-in tripping up the great ones of literature with the utmost nonchalance
-in his “Neuhochdeutschen Parnass,” there is no reason why he should not
-indulge himself; but to criticise Minckwitz in his quality of poet is
-quite another matter; such a gross misuse of the function of criticism
-should be interfered with by a court of justice in the interest of the
-public.
-
-There is another argument which the defence will doubtless bring, to
-which I should like to reply right here. You will be told, gentlemen
-of the jury, that the degradation of an author in public opinion can
-be effective only if the verses published in the _Salon_, under the
-name of Minckwitz, are poorer than his authentic ones, and that this
-is decidedly not the case. Well, it strikes me that the contrary is
-true! It is just because the verses in the _Salon_--as I must gladly
-admit--are much better than any Minckwitz verses; it is for this very
-reason that public opinion is unfavourably influenced. For, gentlemen,
-when Minckwitz brings his epos before the public, all the world will
-say, “The verses in the _Salon_ were much more amusing,” and it seems
-to me this will not have the effect of heightening the author’s
-reputation. I have done, gentlemen of the jury. I believe I have proved
-to your satisfaction that the accused is guilty of the crime with which
-he was charged, and in consideration of the frequent repetition of
-literary forgery, as shown by the witnesses, I move that sentence be
-pronounced for the most severe penalty of the law--viz., confinement in
-intellectual pursuits to the works of Professor Minckwitz.
-
-(_Sensation. Chairman’s bell._)
-
-_Chairman._ The defendant has the floor.
-
-_Lawyer Hamlet._ Gentlemen of the jury! We do not come before you with
-witnesses from the most distant confines of this globe, we do not come
-with ringing words; no, we are simple, harmless, plain, and true. We
-need no witnesses; the facts speak for us. Gentlemen of the jury, cast
-a glance upon the accused, look well at his stolid face, his fixed
-eyes, his enervated lips; and this innocent creature you would declare
-guilty of the heinous crime charged to him? Never, if I can help it!
-The representative of the Crown has told you that literary forgery in
-a legal sense is only possible where public reputation is endangered.
-I admit that in a merely human sense the name of Minckwitz was forged,
-but certainly not in the sense of the law. It strikes me that Professor
-Minckwitz would do well to get down on his knees and thank the
-_Kleinstädter_ for occupying himself so minutely with his small person;
-by means of the article in question Professor Minckwitz is not only
-not lowered in public opinion, on the contrary he is given more honour
-than he deserves. Granting, however, that the _Kleinstädter_ could
-be convicted of forgery, would this be sufficient cause to pronounce
-sentence upon him? No, gentlemen of the jury, a thousand times no!
-I asked you just now to note my client’s physiognomy; I repeat my
-request. In these flaccid muscles, in these dim eyeballs, lurks idiocy.
-Far be it from us to avenge where we should pity. Yes, gentlemen, this
-_Kleinstädter_ is an idiot, his physiognomy shows it, and still more
-evident does it become when you look back upon his conduct during these
-proceedings--when you remember the imbecility of that perpetual “nix,”
-and, most of all, by the deed of which he stands accused. There might
-be some sense in misusing the name of Goethe, Schiller, Heine, Geibel,
-Heyse, Lenau; I can understand that, though I would not condone it;
-but to misuse the name of Minckwitz as a poet, that, gentlemen of the
-jury, cannot be accounted for otherwise than by presupposing complete
-paralysis of the intellectual functions on the part of the accused. My
-client is a poor, irresponsible creature; his mental condition annuls
-his penalty. Gentlemen of the jury, I appeal to your heart. You all
-have children, rosy-cheeked, blooming, happy; imagine what would be
-your grief if one of your children should suddenly lose his reason;
-would you punish that child? No, you would not do so, you could not do
-it, and you will prove it now by fully acquitting my unfortunate client!
-
-(_Sensation and weeping. Bell._)
-
-_Chairman._ Prisoner, is there anything you have to say for yourself?
-
-_The Accused._ Nix.
-
-_Chairman_ (_recapitulates the proceedings and closes_). There are
-these questions then to be submitted to your judgment--
-
-First: Is the accused guilty of having with malice aforethought forged
-the name of Minckwitz in such manner as to thereby injure Professor
-Minckwitz’s public reputation?
-
-Second: Is the accused sane?
-
-    (_The jury retire. After a short time they return, and their
-      foreman declares in a strong voice that the jury answered both
-      questions unanimously in the affirmative. Great excitement. The
-      court solicitor repeats his proposition; the defendant does the
-      same. After a half-hour’s debate the bell of the Chairman is
-      heard._)
-
-_Chairman._ Considering that the accused has been convicted of the
-penal offence with which he had been charged, considering further that
-the mental condition of the accused gives cause for leniency, the Court
-sentences the accused to the penalty of finding Minckwitz’s poetry
-excellent reading.
-
-  _Paul Lindau._
-
-
-
-
-_STUDENTS’ SONGS._
-
-
-OLD ASSYRIAN-JONAH.
-
-    IN the Black Whale at Ascalon
-      A man drank day by day,
-    Till, stiff as any broom-handle
-      Upon the floor he lay.
-
-    In the Black Whale at Ascalon
-      The landlord said: “I say,
-    He’s drinking of my date-juice wine
-      Much more than he can pay!”
-
-    In the Black Whale at Ascalon
-      The waiters brought the bill,
-    In arrow-heads on six broad tiles,
-      To him who thus did swill.
-
-    In the Black Whale at Ascalon
-      The guest cried out: “O woe!
-    I spent in the Lamb at Nineveh
-      My money long ago!”
-
-    In the Black Whale at Ascalon
-      The clock struck half-past four,
-    When the Nubian porter he did pitch
-      The stranger from the door.
-
-    In the Black Whale at Ascalon
-      No prophet hath renown;
-    And he who there would drink in peace
-      Must pay his money down.
-
-  _Joseph Victor Scheffel._
-
-
-HEINZ VON STEIN.
-
-    Out rode from his wild, dark castle,
-      The terrible Heinz von Stein:
-    He came to the door of a tavern
-      And gazed at the swinging sign.
-
-    He sat himself down at a table,
-      And growled for a bottle of wine;
-    Up came, with a flask and a corkscrew,
-      A maiden of beauty divine.
-
-    Then, seized with a deep love-longing,
-      He uttered, “Oh, damosell mine,
-    Suppose you just give a few kisses
-      To the valorous Rotter von Stein.”
-
-    But she answered, “The kissing business
-      Is entirely out of my line;
-    And I certainly will not begin it
-      On a countenance ugly as thine.”
-
-    Oh, then the bold knight was angry,
-      And he cursed both coarse and fine;
-    And asked: “How much is the swindle
-      For your sour and nasty wine?”
-
-    And fiercely he rode to the castle,
-      And sat himself down to dine;
-    And this is the terrible legend
-      Of the terrible Heinz von Stein.
-
-
-BRIGAND SONG.
-
-_Air_--Von Weber’s “Dernière Pensée.”
-
-    ’G giebt kein schönres Leben
-    Als das Rauberleben
-      In dem düstern, düstern Wald.
-
-    THERE’S no life is nobbier
-    Than to be a robbier
-      In the gloomy, gloomy, gloomy wood.
-    Always blood a-drinkin’,
-    Killin’ folks like winkin’,
-      Little hinfants murderin’ all we could.
-
-    Comes a carriage glidin’,
-    Or a feller ridin’,
-      Or a tinker travellin’ with his cram,
-    Then each jovial rover
-    Holloas out, “Shell over!
-      For your life we do not care a d--n!”
-
-
-A FARTHING AND A SIXPENCE.
-
-    A FARTHING and a sixpence,
-      And both of them were mine;
-    The farthing went for water,
-      And the sixpence went for wine.
-
-    The landlord and his daughter
-      Cry, both of them, “Oh woe!”
-    The landlord when I’m coming,
-      And the daughter when I go.
-
-    My shoes are all in pieces,
-      My boots are torn, d’ye see;
-    And yonder, on the hedges,
-      The birds are singing free.
-
-    And if there were no taverns,
-      I’d never wish to roam;
-    And no bung-hole in the barrel,
-      Then I couldn’t drink at home.
-
-  _Count Albert von Schlippenbach._
-
-
-[Illustration: “IN A SWAMP HE FELL--HOW SHOCKING!”]
-
-THE TEUTOBURGER BATTLE.
-
-    WHEN the Romans, rashly roving,
-    Into Germany were roving,
-    First of all--to flourish, partial--
-    Rode ’mid trumps the great field-martial,
-    Sir Quintilius Varus.
-
-    But in the Teutoburgian forest
-    How the north wind blew and chor-rused;
-    Ravens flying through the air,
-    And there was a perfume there
-    As of blood and corpses.
-
-    All at once, in sock and buskins,
-    Out came rushing the Cheruskins
-    Howling, “Gott and Vaterland!”
-    They went in with sword in hand
-    Against the Roman legions.
-
-    Ah, it was an awful slaughter,
-    And the cohorts ran like water;
-    But of all the foe that day
-    The horsemen only got away,
-    Because they were on horseback!
-
-    O Quintilius! wretched general,
-    Knowest thou not that such our men are all?
-    In a swamp he fell--how shocking!
-    Lost two boots, a left-hand stocking,
-    And, besides, was smothered.
-
-    Then, with his temper growing wusser,
-    Said to Centurion Titiusser,
-    “Pull your sword out--never mind,
-    And bore me through with it behind,
-    Since the game is busted.”
-
-    Scaevolo, of law a student,
-    Fine young fellow--but imprudent
-    As a youth of tender years,
-    Served among the volunteers--
-    He was also captured.
-
-    E’en his hoped-for death was baffled,
-    For ere they got him to the scaffold
-    He was stabbed quite unaware,
-    And nailed fast _en derrière_
-    To his Corpus Juris.
-
-    When this forest fight was over,
-    Herman rubbed his hands in clover;
-    And to do the thing up right,
-    The Cheruscian did invite
-    To a first-rate breakfast.
-
-    But in Rome the wretched varmints
-    Went to purchase mourning garments;
-    Just as they had tapped a puncheon,
-    And Augustus sat at luncheon,
-    Came the mournful story.
-
-    And the tidings so provoked him,
-    That a peacock leg half choked him,
-    And he cried--beyond control--
-    “Varus, Varus! d--n your soul!
-    Redde legiones!”
-
-    His German slave, Hans Schmidt be-christened,
-    Who in the corner stood and listened,
-    Remarked, “Der Teufel take me wenn
-    He efer kits dose droops acain,
-    For teat men ish not lifin.”
-
-    Now, in honour of the story,
-    A monument they’ll raise for glory.
-    As for pedestal--they’ve done it;
-    But who’ll pay for a statue on it
-    Heaven alone can tell us.
-
-  _J. V. Scheffel._
-
-
-[Illustration: “OLD CLO’,--TAKE THEM, THEY ARE THINE!”]
-
-THE LAST PAIR OF BREECHES.
-
-_Air_--“’Tis the last Rose of Summer.”
-
-    ’Tis my la-a-st pair of bre-e-eches
-      Le-e-ft sa-a-dly a-lone;
-    Ah--and she too with her riches,
-      With another hence has gone.
-
-    Oh, they seemed in one piece knitted,
-      Such a pair is seldom matched;
-    Winter buckskin, how they fitted!
-      Large plaid pattern, never patched!
-
-    Strutting proudly as a turkey,
-      With those breeks I first sailed in;
-    In my pocket to the door-key
-      Rang such lots of lovely tin.
-
-    Ah, we fall as we have risen--
-      Soon no specie showed its face;
-    And the Heidelberg town-prison
-      Is a dark and silent place.
-
-    Soon I pawned all things worth pawning,--
-      Dress-coat, frock, and mantle light.
-    You too, now, ere morrow’s dawning,
-      My last trousers, good--good-night!
-
-    Day of trial, with what sorrow
-      Do I feel thy pain at last;
-    Nothing earthly bides the morrow,
-      And the pledge-laws travel fast.
-
-    All must go, though strictly hoarded,
-      Oh, last trousers, last of mine!
-    Elkan Levi, gloomy, sordid,
-      Old clo’,--take them, they are thine!
-
-    Boots!--of all my friends the truest,
-      Come and prop my suffering head;
-    But one pint, and that of newest,
-      May’st thou bring--enough is said!
-
-    Then abed, from this sad hour,
-      I’ll not rise, though all should ring,
-    Till a heavy golden shower
-      Through the roof comes pattering.
-
-    Then begone, for we must sever;
-      Greet thy fellows in their cell.
-    Ah! my legs already shiver;
-      My last breeches,--fare ye well!
-
-  _J. V. Scheffel._
-
-
-ENDERLE VON KETSCH.
-
- [This ballad is founded on an incident narrated in the description
- of the Palatinate by Merian (1645), where, speaking of the village
- Ketsch, he tells us that “The Counte Palatine Otto Heinrich,
- afterwards Kurfürst, sailed in the yeere 1530 to the Holie Lande and
- to Jerusalem. Returning thence, hee came over the greate open sea,
- where a shipp from Norwaie mett him, and from it there came this cry:
- ‘Flye, flye, for ye fatt Enderle von Ketsch cometh!’ Now the Counte
- Palatine and his Chancellor Mückenhäuser knew a godless wretche of
- this name who dwelt at Ketsch, and therefore whenn they returned home
- they inquired of ye fatt Enderle and of the tyme of his deathe, and
- observed that itt agreed with the tyme whenn they did heare the crye
- upon ye sea, as whilom a professor of Heidelberg hath narrated in
- divers wrytings which hee left behinde.”]
-
-[Illustration: “THERE A GHOST IN HIS SHIRT-SLEEVES WAS STANDING, AND
-HOWLING A HORRIBLE SONG.”]
-
-    _Chorus._
-
-    “AWAY--along! Away--along!
-      With trembling, your jaws on the stretch.
-    Away--along! We sing the song
-      Of Enderle von Ketsch!”
-
-    _Solo._
-
-    Old Heinrich, the Pfalzgrave of Rhine--oh!
-      Spoke out of a morning, “Rem blem!
-    I’m tired of the sour Hock wine--oh!
-      I’m off for Jerusalem.
-
-    “Far lovelier, neater, and nicer
-      Are the maids there who give you the cup;
-    Oh, Chancellor! oh, Mückenhäuser,
-      Five thousand gold ducats pack up.”
-
-    And as before Joppa they anchored,
-      The Chancellor held up his hand:
-    “Now drain to the dregs your last tankard,
-      For the ducats are come to an end.”
-
-    Old Heinrich said, “Well, and no wonder;
-      Rem blem! what remains to be seen!
-    We’ll paddle for Cyprus out yonder,
-      And make a small raise on the Queen.”
-
-    But just as the galley was dancing
-      By Cyprus, in beautiful night,
-    A storm o’er the billows came prancing,
-      With thunder and flashes of light.
-
-    In a ghastly wild glare, by the landing,
-      A black ship came rushing along;
-    There a ghost in his shirt-sleeves was standing,
-      And howling a horrible song.
-
-    _Chorus._
-
-    “Away--along! Away--along!
-      With trembling, your jaws on the stretch.
-    Away--along! I sing the song
-      Of Enderle von Ketsch!”
-
-    _Solo._
-
-    The thunder grew calmer and wiser,
-      Like oil lay the water below;
-    But oh, the old brave Mückenhäuser
-      The Chancellor felt sorrow and woe.
-
-    The Pfalzgrave stood up by the rudder,
-      And gazed on the billowy foam;
-    “Rem blem! all my soul’s in a shudder,
-      Oh, Cyprus--I travel for home!
-
-    “God spare me such terrible menace--
-      I’m wiser through trial and pain;
-    Back, back on our course to old Venice--
-      I’ll never borrow money again.
-
-    “And he who ’mid heathens at table
-      His cash to the devil has slammed,
-    Let him hook it in peace while he’s able,--
-      It sounds like all hell and be damned!”
-
-  _J. V. Scheffel._
-
-GOD AND THE LOVER.
-
-    THEN full of longing hieing,
-    Straight I sought the Father, sighing:
-    _O may I, may I, may I,
-    May I love the girl?_
-    “You blackguard!” he outswore,
-    “If you want your back beat sore,
-    Then you may love the girl.”
-
-    Then full of longing hieing,
-    Straight I sought the good Priest, sighing:
-    _O may I, may I, may I,
-    May I love the girl?_
-    “My dear son, by my soul,
-    If you seek for Hell’s deep hole,
-    Then you may love the girl.”
-
-    Then full of longing hieing,
-    Straight I sought the Lord God, sighing:
-    _O may I, may I, may I,
-    May I love the girl?_
-    “My boy,” laughed he, “go take her:
-    Why the devil did I make her?--
-    Faith, you may love the girl!”
-
-  _Old German._
-
-
-
-
-_UNINTENTIONAL WITTICISMS OF THE ABSENT-MINDED GERMAN PROFESSOR._
-
-
-IN the day of Achilles the Greeks had no books except Homer.
-
-A panic seized the Persians at Marathon, and crying, “Lord Jesus, there
-are the Athenasians,” they rushed for the sea.
-
-Alexander would undoubtedly have subjugated the whole of Asia, but he
-will soon die.
-
-Alexander was poisoned twenty-one years before his death.
-
-The death of Alexander was felt by all Asia, but not until after his
-death.
-
-Demetrius was the son of his father, and had an army of 100,000
-Reichsthalers.
-
-Charilaus was born very young.
-
-This is a common incident in Roman history, which, however, does not
-occur often.
-
-Servius came to Rome and was born there.
-
-At the battle of Cannæ the Roman army consisted of 30,000 men, 20,000
-were made prisoners, 40,000 fell, and 120,000 escaped.
-
-If Cæsar had not crossed the Rubicon there is no knowing where he would
-have gone.
-
-Brutus and Cassius murdered Cæsar in a manner very detrimental to his
-health.
-
-His brother, whom he had caused to be murdered, he at last proscribed.
-
-Varus was the only Roman general who succeeded in being conquered by
-the Germans.
-
-Gallus was murdered in the presence of the populace, and he met the
-same fate once more at the hands of an assassin.
-
-Julianus first killed himself, then his father, and then himself.
-
-Tacitus says the ancient Germans were as tall as our Gardes du Corps.
-
-The Cimbers and Teutons are descended from each other.
-
-Alfons was two years old when he was born.
-
-So did King Alfons surrender the eastern part of his career.
-
-Returning from Spain, the roads were so poor that it was necessary to
-take eight waggons to one horse.
-
-Richard III. murdered all his successors.
-
-After the execution of Mary Stuart, Elizabeth appeared in Parliament,
-in one hand a handkerchief, in the other a tear.
-
-It is unnecessary to say anything about Newton except that he died.
-
-Danton was not executed until he had cut his own throat.
-
-To be sure Marat was murdered, but he died first of a disease so
-virulent as to rob him of life.
-
-Maximilian I. had hopes of seeing the throne upon his head.
-
-After the battle of Leipsic there were a large number of horses that
-had lost three or four or more legs running about without a master.
-
-Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, lived until shortly before his death.
-
-Stanislaus was not yet in existence when his father was born.
-
-Suwarow marched at so rapid a pace with his army that neither the
-infantry, nor cavalry, nor artillery could keep up with him.
-
-The Polish army was beaten by Suwarow because it ran away and fled.
-
-A bitter war ensued on page 94.
-
-The earth like all bodies has parallel circles, which intersect, and
-this is mathematical geography.
-
-He drew his sword and shot him.
-
-Gotha is not much farther from Erfurt than Erfurt is from Gotha.
-
-I am unable to give you the titles of books about Africa just now. I
-have them in my head, but not on paper.
-
-Among the most excellent products of Egypt the climate must be counted.
-
-The sources of the Nile are much farther south than where Bruce
-discovered them.
-
-The eye-sight of the Hottentots is so well developed that they can hear
-the tramp of a horse at an incredible distance.
-
-The walls of Babylon were so broad that four waggons could go on top of
-each other.
-
-North America consists of a great number of large and small islands,
-very few of which are surrounded by water.
-
-When Humboldt ascended Mount Chimborazo he found the air so thin that
-he could not read without glasses.
-
-There is so much coal-smoke in London that even when the sun does not
-shine you cannot see the sky.
-
-There would be far less leather produced by the English if they tanned
-only their own hides.
-
-There are many propositions in mathematics that can only be proved by
-beginning over again.
-
-The theory of parallel lines explains itself, for it tends toward
-infinity.
-
-_Professor_: “That impertinent fellow, Sustorf, must be reported.”
-_Pupil_: “Herr Professor, his name is not Sustorf; it is Thomas.”
-Professor: “Well, then, we will not report him.”
-
-It must strike four soon, for it struck a quarter-to half-an-hour ago.
-
-I see a great many pupils who are absent.
-
-If any of you would like to read up this subject, you will find
-something to the point in a book the title of which I have forgotten.
-It is in the forty-second chapter.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “WITH A SINGLE BOUND HE WAS OUTSIDE THE DOOR.”]
-
-_THE INCARCERATION OF THE HERR PROFESSOR._
-
-
-WHEN he got to the hall before the door of the schoolroom, the Herr
-Director heard a tremendous uproar. Forty boyish voices were shouting
-“Encore,” and “Da capo!”
-
-Professor Samuel Heinzerling began to frown.
-
-Now there was a lull in the wild chorus, and a clear, penetrating voice
-was heard in a tone of absurd magniloquence--
-
-“That will do faw to-day, Heppenheimer. It ith vewy evident you’ve come
-to clath unprepared. I’m vewy much put out by thuch conduct. Thit down!”
-
-Thundering applause.
-
-The professor seemed turned to a stone.
-
-By all the gods of Greece, that was his voice, his manner, and no
-mistake. To be sure, there was an exaggeration of caricature, but the
-likeness was so evident that none but a connoisseur would be able to
-distinguish the slight shade of difference. It was little short of
-sacrilege. To think that one of his pupils should have the audacity to
-ridicule him, the sovereign authority over all school matters; him, the
-author of “A Latin Grammar for use in schools, specially adapted to the
-higher classes;” him, the renowned follower of Kant, from the hallowed
-heights of his own platform! _Proh pudor! Honos sit auribus!_ This was
-a prank such as none but the soul of the arch-rogue Wilhelm Rumpf could
-bring forth.
-
-“Will you take a pathage, Möwicke,” the voice of the godless pupil
-continued. “What, you are indithpothed? Deaw me, when I heaw young men
-of your age thay they are indithpothed that lookth ill, it lookth vewy
-ill indeed. Knebel, put down in the clath-book: Möwicke, being called
-upon to tranthlate, wath indithpothed.”
-
-The professor was unable to control his temper longer.
-
-With a sudden movement he opened the door, and stepped in among the
-startled boys.
-
-His intuition had been correct.
-
-It was indeed Wilhelm Rumpf, the greatest good-for-nothing the class
-could boast of, who had committed the unpardonable offence against the
-majesty of his person. For four weeks only this lad had been one of
-Samuel Heinzerling’s pupils, and already there was no scamp in class
-from first to last who did not own his superiority. His collar drawn up
-high in front, an immense pair of paper spectacles upon his nose, in
-his left hand a book, in his right the traditional tiny lead-pencil,
-there he stood upon the platform, just about to commit himself further
-when the indignant professor crossed the threshold.
-
-“Wumpf!” said Samuel with dignity, “Wumpf! you will go to the
-_cawcer_[11] faw two dayth. Knebel, put down in the clath-book: Wumpf,
-condemned to two dayth in the _cawcer_ faw childith and unworthy
-conduct. Heppenheimer, call the _pedell_!”
-
-“Why, Herr Professor,--I did not--I only----” stammered Rumpf, putting
-the paper spectacles in his pocket, and walking back to his seat.
-
-“Not another word!”
-
-“I thought----”
-
-“Be thtill, I tell you!”
-
-“But won’t you permit me----”
-
-“Knebel, put down: Wumpf hath one day added to the owiginal penalty faw
-obthtinathy. I am tiwed of fighting it out with you. You ought to be
-athamed to the vewy depth of your thoul!”
-
-“_Andiatur et altera pars_, Herr Professor. This is a precept to which
-you have always called our attention!”
-
-“Vewy good! You thall not thay that I am untrue to my printhipleth.
-What have you to thay faw yourthelf?”
-
-“I can only assure you, sir, that it was not my intention to do
-anything disrespectful. I was only exercising myself in the art of
-mimicry.”
-
-“It would have been better to exerthithe yourthelf in Latin thtyle and
-in Greek compothition.”
-
-“I do that also, Herr Professor. But aside from those branches of
-knowledge, art also has her privileges.”
-
-“Thertainly, I have never denied that. Do you pretend to call your
-nonthenthe, art? It ith an art that you will never be able to live on.”
-
-“There’s no knowing, Herr Professor!”
-
-“Be thtill, I tell you! If you go on at this wate you will be
-shipwecked soonaw or lataw in life. Knipke, go and see why Heppenheimer
-doeth not come back with the _pedell_.”
-
-“Oh, just this once, Herr Professor,” whispered Rumpf coaxingly. “You
-might let me off just this once.”
-
-“No indeed! You go to _cawcer_. But we will not let thith dithagreeable
-affair intewupt our work. Hutzler, begin the wepetition.”
-
-“Herr Professor, I was ill when we translated this. Here is my
-certificate.”
-
-“Indeed! So you were ill, ath uthual. Do you know, Hutzler, it stwikes
-me that you are oftener ill than well.”
-
-“Unfortunately, Herr Professor, my delicate constitution----”
-
-“Delicate? Eh, delicate? You don’t thay tho, Hutzler! I with every man
-under the sun were ath delicate ath you are. Lathy, that’s what you
-are, but not delicate----”
-
-“Lazy? When I have a high fever you don’t expect me to----”
-
-“I know all that! Dare thay you dwank too much beer. You twanthlate,
-Gildemeister.”
-
-“Absent!” cried a number of voices at once.
-
-Samuel shook his head sadly.
-
-“Doeth nobody know what ith the matter with Gildemeister?”
-
-“He has a cold!” replied one of the lads.
-
-“Cold! When I wath hith age I never had a cold. But why don’t Knipke
-and Heppenheimer come back? Schwarz, you go and thee if you can’t find
-them, but mind you come wight back!”
-
-Schwarz went, and returned after ten minutes with the _pedell_ and the
-others.
-
-“Herr Inaddler was occupied with papering his wall,” said Heppenheimer
-in a respectful tone; “he had to change his coat.”
-
-“Ah, indeed! And doeth it take you half-an-hour to do that? Inaddlaw,
-theemth to me you are beginning to neglect your offith!”
-
-“I beg your pardon, Herr Professor; the young gentleman came to my door
-just two minutes ago.”
-
-“Oh!” cried three indignant voices.
-
-“Well, it theemth witheth to let thith matter wetht! Here, take Wumpf
-to the _cawcer_. Wumpf, you will behave yourself and not be continually
-calling the _pedell_ ath you did the latht time you were there.
-Inaddlaw, don’t let anything induthe you to let him come out into the
-hall.”
-
-“Very good, Herr Professor.”
-
-Wilhelm Rumpf bit his lip, turned to go, and disappeared with Inaddler
-in the dim twilight of the hall.
-
-“What is it you did, Herr Rumpf?” asked the _pedell_ sympathetically,
-as they were passing upstairs.
-
-“Nothing.”
-
-“Oh, but, begging your pardon, you must have done _something_?”
-
-“I only did what the professor does all the time.”
-
-“You don’t say so! How is that?”
-
-“Well, you just listen to me. Don’t you thee, dear Inaddlaw, this
-fellow Wumpf is a pawfect scapegwace, and there ith no penalty severe
-enough faw him.”
-
-“Good gracious!” stammered the _pedell_, clasping his hands above his
-head. “To think that such things are possible! It’s positively uncanny,
-Herr Rumpf, that it is! Heaven knows if I didn’t see you right here
-before me with my own eyes I’d swear that it’s the Herr Professor in
-person whose voice I hear this minute. You’ll make your fortune with
-such a gift as that some day, sir. Why, once when I was drinking my
-beer over at Lotze’s there was a magician who’d imitate anything you
-wanted him to, twittering birds and neighing horses, barking dogs and
-ranting priests. But it didn’t come up to your performance!”
-
-“Yeth, yeth, dear Inaddlaw! I dare thay you’re wight!” replied Rumpf,
-still continuing in the voice and tone of the professor.
-
-“You don’t mean to say you kept this thing up in his presence? Well, I
-must say, Herr Rumpf, there’s a time for everything. No wonder the Herr
-Professor was very much put out.”
-
-“Now weally! Do you think tho?”
-
-“I shall have to ask you to stop this now. You see, it’s not compatible
-with the dignity of my office. Will you please walk into this room?”
-
-“Thertainly----”
-
-“Herr Rumpf, I shall tell the Herr Professor that your punishment is
-altogether too lenient.”
-
-“What bithiness ith that of yours, you abthurd old fellow? I can do
-what I pleathe.”
-
-“That you cannot do.”
-
-“You will thee that I can. I can talk ath it thuits me, and whoever
-doeth not like it can thtop up hith ears.”
-
-“You wait and see.”
-
-“Wait for what?”
-
-“I shall inform the Herr Professor.”
-
-“Give him my compliments.”
-
-Inaddler turned the key and slowly walked away.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Inaddler, having done what was incumbent upon him, devoted himself
-lustily to his interrupted occupation. He dipped his brush into the
-tremendous pot of paste and supplied strip after strip of wall paper
-with the faintly fragrant liquid.
-
-Wilhelm Rumpf sat yawning upon the seat of his prison, and assured
-himself in a soliloquy that he was heartily sick of the gymnasium and
-of the uncalled-for restrictions of school life.
-
-Herr Samuel Heinzerling scratched his head, pushed his large round-eyed
-spectacles up high on his nose and shook his pedagogical head three or
-four times.
-
-“A mithewable boy, thith fellow Wumpf,” he murmured, “but I half
-believe I could win him by gentler methodth more weadily than I can by
-severity. I will make one more attempt to appeal to hith conscienthe.
-It ith a pity to let him go on like thith. He ith one of my motht
-gifted pupilth!”
-
-He touched the bell.
-
-After two minutes Annie appeared, Inaddler’s daughter. She was
-evidently about to go out, for a tiny hat surmounted by feathers was
-perched jauntily upon her curly head.
-
-“What can I do for you, Herr Professor?” she asked with a dainty
-curtsey.
-
-“Where is your father?” whispered Samuel, with a remarkably pure
-pronunciation for him.
-
-“He is papering. Is there anything you wish him to do, Herr Professor?”
-
-“Ah, he ith papawing. Well, then, I will not dithturb him. It ith of no
-consequenth, Annie; I dare thay the key is on the _cawcer_?”
-
-“I will run and ask, Herr Professor.”
-
-She ran down the stairs like a deer, and was back in a few seconds.
-
-“Yes, sir; the keys are on the hall door as well as on the cell. Is
-there anything else?”
-
-“No; I thank you.”
-
-Annie turned to go, while Samuel looked after her with a smile. He
-passed his hand once or twice over his closely-shaved chin, then he
-took his hat from the table and ascended the stairs to the _carcer_.
-
-Wilhelm Rumpf was greatly surprised when after so short a time of
-imprisonment the door turned on its hinges. His astonishment reached
-its climax when he recognised Professor Samuel Heinzerling.
-
-“Well, Wumpf?” said that philosopher with dignity.
-
-“What do you wish, Herr Professor?” responded the pupil in a tone of
-resolute obstinacy.
-
-“I have come to athk if you are not beginning to thee that thuch
-puerilenetheth are out of plathe altogether in a gymnathium, and
-that----”
-
-“I am not at all aware of having done----”
-
-“What, Wumpf? I did not expect to find you tho thtubborn! I wish you
-would put yourthelf in my plathe. I am sure you would be much more
-thevere with thith unmanageable Wilhelm Wumpf than I have been, eh?”
-
-“Herr Professor----”
-
-“Surely thuch childish conduct ith not what one would expect of a young
-man of good family. You’d betht be on your guard, for the next time I
-catch you in a thcwape I shall expel you!”
-
-“Expel me?”
-
-“Yes, Wumpf, expel you. So you would do well to turn over a new leaf,
-and let your dithgratheful nonthenthe go. I wepeat it, put yourself in
-my place!”
-
-Wilhelm Rumpf lowered his head. He felt that his expulsion was only a
-matter of time. Suddenly a diabolical thought took possession of his
-brain.
-
-“If I must get expelled,” he said to himself, “it shall be with flying
-colours.”
-
-He smiled like the villainous hero of a sensational novel after some
-dark deed, and said in a tone of simulated humility--
-
-“You say, sir, I should put myself in your place?”
-
-“Yes, Wumpf, that ith what I thay.”
-
-“Well then, seeing you will have it so,--I wish you much pleasure!”
-
-And with a single bound he was outside the door, turned the key, and
-left the poor professor to his deplorable fate.
-
-“Wumpf! what ith thith you are up to? I’ll exthpel you thith vewy day!
-Open the door at onthe! At onthe, I thay!”
-
-“I give you two hours’ _cawcer_,” replied Rumpf with dignity. “You told
-me to put mythelf in your plathe!”
-
-“Wumpf! you will thee what will happen! Open the door; I inthitht upon
-it!”
-
-“You have no wight to talk to me in that tone. Jutht at pwethent _I_
-am the Herr Profeththor! You are merely the pupil Wilhelm Wumpf. Be
-thtill! I will not bwook oppothition!”
-
-“Dear Wumpf! I will fawgive you thith onthe. Pleathe open the door like
-a good fellow. Your penalty shall be a vewy slight one. I give you my
-word faw it, you shall not be exthpelled. Do you hear what I thay?”
-
-Dear Rumpf did not hear. He had crept stealthily along the hall and was
-now hastening downstairs to complete his escape.
-
-As he was passing the _pedell’s_ door a tempting idea took possession
-of him.
-
-He put his eye to the keyhole. Inaddler was standing upon a ladder, his
-back to the door, and was just attempting to put a heavily-pasted strip
-of paper in place. Wilhelm Rumpf just lifted the latch, and called out
-with the purest Heinzerling accent of which he was capable--
-
-“I am going now, Inaddlaw. Keep an eye on that fellow Wumpf. The lad is
-cawying on at a gweat wate. He ith thtill keeping up hith impertinent
-nonthenthe. You keep wight on with your work. All I want to thay ith
-that you are not to open the door faw him on any conthideration. The
-fellow ith quite capable of knocking you down and wunning away. Do you
-hear what I thay, Inaddlaw?”
-
-“Very good, Herr Professor. Excuse me for not getting down----”
-
-“Thtay wight where you are, I thay, and finish your papawing. Good
-mawning.”
-
-“Your servant, Herr Professor.”
-
-Wilhelm Rumpf went upstairs again, and once more entered the hallowed
-precincts of the _carcer_. Samuel Heinzerling was raging terribly. Now
-he seemed to have discovered the bell, for just as Rumpf sought refuge
-behind an enormous linen chest belonging to the Inaddler family, it
-resounded shrilly through the hall like the yell of indignant demons.
-
-“Help!” moaned the professor. “Help! Inaddlaw; you will lothe your
-plathe thith very day, if you don’t come up thith minute! Help! Fire!
-fire! Murder! Wobbers! Help!”
-
-The _pedell_, recalled to his duty by the uninterrupted sound of the
-bell, left his private occupation and put in an appearance before the
-door of the prison. Deceitful Wilhelm Rumpf crept deeper into his
-hiding-place. Samuel Heinzerling, utterly exhausted from calling and
-crying, threw himself down upon his seat. His bosom was palpitating;
-his nostrils worked like a pair of good bellows.
-
-“Herr Rumpf,” said Inaddler, giving a warning knock on the door, “look
-out, I’m making a note of all your doings!”
-
-“The Lord be praithed that you are here, Inaddlaw! Open the door, I
-thay! Thith mithewable thcoundwel hath locked me in. Thuch conduct ith
-unheard of!”
-
-“Let me tell you, Herr Rumpf, you’d better stop your joking. You may be
-quite sure I’ll tell the Herr Professor how you called him a miserable
-scoundrel!”
-
-“Have you lotht your wits, Inaddlaw?” shouted Samuel in a tone of
-supreme indignation. “The devil! don’t you hear me thay how Wumpf, the
-knave, hath locked me in here when I came to thee him, and talk like a
-father to him! I thay, don’t keep me waiting! Open the door at onthe!”
-
-“You must take me to be very stupid, Herr Rumpf. The professor was at
-my door this moment, and has my word for it that I won’t let you out.
-And now I advise you to behave yourself, and stop ringing that bell,
-else I’ll take it down, sure as fate!”
-
-“Inaddlaw, I’ll thee to it that you are thent to gaol for depriving me
-of my freedom!”
-
-“Now just you listen to me, will you? It’s positively childish this
-everlasting imitating of the Herr Professor. There is no denying that
-the professor lisps a bit, and pronounces his r’s in a funny way, but
-never so long as I knew him was he guilty of such a silly twaddle as
-you are indulging in. And now then, for the last time, all I can say
-is, be quiet, and conduct yourself like a gentleman----”
-
-“But I wepeat to you, upon my honour, that confounded scoundwel turned
-the key behind me, before I knew what he wath about! Inaddlaw! Knave,
-ass! You must know me! Have the goodneth to considaw!”
-
-“What? You call me an ass? You call me a knave? I’d have you to know
-it’s a question who is the greatest ass or the greatest knave, you or
-I! Well I never in all my born days! The impudence! A green boy like
-you calling an honest old man an ass! You are an ass yourself! Do you
-understand! But you’ll get your deserts!”
-
-“You are an ass and a fool!” moaned Heinzerling in despair. “So you
-wefuse to open the door?”
-
-“I’d never think of doing such a thing.”
-
-“Good, vewy good!” groaned the philosopher with a dying voice. “Vewy
-good! I’ll stay wight here in the _cawcer_ then! Do you hear, Inaddlaw?
-Wight here in the _cawcer_!”
-
-“I am glad to hear you are beginning to come around to common sense.
-And now I hope you’ll let me alone. I’ve no more time to listen to your
-farce!”
-
-“Inaddlaw!” cried Samuel, getting enraged once more. “Hour by hour
-I’ll thit here, do you understand? Hour by hour. Like a thcamp of a
-thchoolboy I’ll bear the dithgwace of it! Do you hear me, Inaddlaw?”
-
-“I’m going now. You’d better do your translation.”
-
-“Holy heavens, I’m lothing my weason! Am I cwathy? Man, won’t you look
-through the keyhole. Then at leatht you might thee----”
-
-“You don’t catch me. I haven’t forgotten how you blew in my eyes the
-other day!”
-
-“Well, then, go to the devil by all meanths. There’s no wawing with
-such pawverse thtupidity. Just wait till I come out of thith. You won’t
-have thith plathe of _pedell_ much longer, I’ll pwomithe you that!”
-
-Inaddler felt his way downstairs in a very ill humour. This lad Rumpf
-was surely the most impertinent fellow he had ever come across. An ass
-did he call him? Thunder and lightning! Ever since the decease of Mrs.
-Inaddler the like had not occurred to him----!
-
-These miserable schoolboys!
-
-Meanwhile Samuel Heinzerling passed up and down his cell with long
-steps. His whole appearance bore a certain resemblance to an African
-lion condemned to imprisonment by human sagacity without losing thereby
-any of the original pride and strength of his noble nature. His hands
-crossed on his back, his head with its grey mane inclined wofully
-toward one shoulder, his lips tightly shut--so he walked back and
-forth, back and forth, the darkest and most misanthropic thoughts in
-his bosom.
-
-Suddenly a broad smile flitted across his features.
-
-“Most abthurd thith ith!” he muttered to himself. “Weally, though thith
-ith a very disagweeable affair for me to be in, there ith no denying
-the humour of the thituation----”
-
-He stood still.
-
-“Ith there weally any dithgwace in being outwitted by a thchoolboy? Go
-to, Thamuel! Did not a thelebrated king hold the ladder faw a thief to
-thteal his watch? Wath not even Pwince Bithmarck locked in by wuthless
-hands? Not to name a hundred other cases. And thtill hithtory treath
-thith king with rethpect. And thtill Bithmarck hath lotht none of hith
-reputation ath the betht diplomatitht in Europe. No, no, Thamuel! Your
-dignity ath thchool-mathter, ath thitizen, ath philothopher, need not
-thuffer by thith mortifying thituation. Retht assured, Thamuel----”
-
-He continued his walk in a self-satisfied mood; but soon he interrupted
-himself anew.
-
-“But thothe boyth!” he stammered, turning pale. “When thothe boyth hear
-how I wath impwithoned at the _cawcer_! Fearful thought! I might ath
-well give up my authowity ath a teacher at onthe. And they _will_ hear
-it. There ith no help faw it! Ye godth, ye godth, why do ye thmite me
-thus?”
-
-“Herr Professor,” whispered a familiar voice at the door of the cell,
-“you are not yet dishonoured. Your authority is as unassailable as
-ever----”
-
-“Wumpf!” muttered Samuel; “you godleth fellow you! Open that door, I
-thay, thith minute! Conthider your earth boxed! Conthider yourthelf
-expelled!”
-
-“Herr Professor, I’ve come to save you! Do not insult me!”
-
-“To thave me? What impertinenthe! Open the door, or I’ll----”
-
-“Will you hear me speak, Herr Professor? I assure you all will end
-well.”
-
-Samuel considered.
-
-“Vewy well,” he said at last; “I’ll condethend to hear you. Thpeak----”
-
-“I only wanted to show you that my art is not quite without practical
-import. Forgive me if in doing so I have seemingly left out of
-consideration the very high esteem and respect in which I am happily
-conscious of always having held you!”
-
-“You are a wogue, Wumpf!”
-
-“Herr Professor! suppose you dispense me from the _carcer_ penalty,
-withdraw your threat regarding expulsion, and permit me to guard the
-most complete silence over what has passed!”
-
-“It would never do, Wumpf. You mutht hold out your time----”
-
-“Yes? Well, then, good-bye to you, Herr Professor! Don’t ring the bell
-too often!”
-
-“Wumpf! hear what I thay to you! Wumpf!”
-
-“Well----?”
-
-“You are in many wespects an extwaawdinawy lad, Wumpf; and tho I am
-quite willing to make an extheption in your favour,--open the door!”
-
-“Will you dispense me from _carcer_?”
-
-“Yeth.”
-
-“Do you intend to expel me?”
-
-“No, in the devil’th name.”
-
-“Give me your word of honour, Herr Professor!”
-
-“Wumpf, how dare you?”
-
-“Your word of honour, Herr Professor!”
-
-“Vewy good, you have it!”
-
-“Jupiter Ultor is witness.”
-
-“What?”
-
-“I call upon the gods for witnesses.”
-
-“Open the door, I thay!”
-
-“Presently, Herr Professor. You are sure you bear me no grudge?”
-
-“No, no, no! _Will_ you open that door?”
-
-“You give me full absolution?”
-
-“Yes, under the condition that you tell nobody a word of your guilty
-conduct. I have told you that I take you to be an extwaawdinawy lad,
-Wumpf----”
-
-“Thank you for your good opinion. My word of honour then that so long
-as you are in your present position at the town gymnasium no word shall
-pass my lips!”
-
-With that he turned the key and opened the door.
-
-Like the king in Uhland’s ballad did Samuel Heinzerling step out into
-the pure air of heaven. He took a deep breath; then, brushing his hair
-from his brow as if trying to remember something, he said--
-
-“Wumpf, I can take a joke ath well ath any man; but I wish you would
-do me the favour not to mimic me in future. You--you weally do it too
-well!”
-
-“Your wish is my law!”
-
-“Vewy good! And now you’d betht hathten down to the clath-woom. It’th
-not yet a quarter to--you’ll be just in time!”
-
-“But how can I do that, Herr Professor? They all know that you have
-given me three days!”
-
-“Vewy good! I’ll go with you.”
-
-They quickly walked downstairs.
-
-“Inaddlaw!” called the professor into the basement door.
-
-The _pedell_ appeared at once and officiously asked what was his behest.
-
-“I have dithpenthed Wumpf fwom his penalty faw sevewal weasons,” said
-Samuel.
-
-“Ah! that is what you came back for. Well, all I wish to say is that
-Herr Rumpf was not at all quiet in his cell. It’s none of my business,
-I suppose, but he shouted and swore like a good ’un----”
-
-“Well, never mind, Inaddlaw; I have thpecial motiveth faw dealing
-leniently with him thith time. You may wemove the key to the _cawcer_.”
-
-  _Ernest Eckstein._
-
-
-
-
-_OUR WAR-CORRESPONDENT._
-
-
-THE natural and justifiable mistrust which the reading public brings to
-bear upon published reports from military headquarters has caused us
-to send our extra special correspondent, Herr Wippchen, whose presence
-has already graced several official festivities at the porter brewery,
-as well as two general assemblies of the architects’ club, to be an
-eye-witness upon the field occupied just now by the oriental question.
-
-No sooner was our intention made public than four managers of the
-most renowned life insurance companies applied to us, declaring their
-willingness to insure the life of our Wippchen against all the dangers
-of war upon the most reasonable conditions.
-
-Yesterday, at eleven o’clock in the forenoon, Herr Wippchen set out on
-his journey, favoured by the most glorious weather. In the evening we
-had his first report from Bernau,[12] which we here publish:--
-
-  BERNAU, _May 3, 1877_.
-
-After travelling for two hours I arrived here, and in this friendly
-little town I found rooms far from the deafening noise of the railway,
-where I can devote myself with leisure to my task. It is my purpose to
-give you a battle of some dimensions every day. Certain it is that the
-position of Bernau is decidedly favourable to my enterprise, for not
-only is it possible to take the train for the battle-field twice a day,
-but also to write to Berlin much more frequently.
-
-On the train it was the opinion of many that the die had fallen, and
-that the temple of Janus would not be sheathed again for weeks to
-come. Indeed, at the “Kaiserhof,” the night before we left, we were
-quite unanimous about that.
-
-I am sorry to say that I am not supplied with the necessary maps. The
-geography I had when I went to school is rather old, and the map of
-Turkey is partly torn out.
-
-It was a capital idea to send me here. There is no denying the fact
-that a war-correspondent should not be constantly seen in the streets
-of the town where his reports are printed.
-
-The most important thing to-day seems to me to be the fact that this
-oriental war is not the first in history. There is no denying that
-there have been several others, none of which have ended with the
-annihilation of Russia or Turkey. Both arose again like Aphrodite out
-of the ashes.
-
-To be sure, Russia says the beard of the prophet must be shaved from
-the earth, because Turkey persecutes and torments Christianity. But
-how if Turkey should suddenly turn and say that in Russia too the
-Christians sigh under the bed of Procrustes, and that the lash of
-civilisation must be applied to the Russians! What then?
-
-And as for England, there is no denying that England will never look on
-and permit the aggrandisement of Russia from without. But with all its
-Armada it will never be able to hinder its aggrandisement within.
-
-Where is Ariadne’s thread to guide us out of the Scylla of this Augean
-stable?
-
-I enclose my first letter from the battle-field, and at the same time
-I would ask you to send me a couple of those new gold 5-mark pieces,
-which the inhabitants of Bernau are curious to see.
-
-  LEOWA, _April 24_.
-
-Rosy-fingered Eos had but just struck five when I arose from the naked
-earth and betook myself to the Pruth to see the Russian troops cross
-it. There is no denying that there may have been about 13,000 men;
-Tschetschentians, Svanetians, Zaporopian Kossaks, Lesghians, mostly
-adults, were all marching towards Glatz. They sang a song which I
-should like to call “The Watch on the Pruth.” When General Strobelew
-saw me he declared me to be a spy, and condemned me to the knout for
-life. At that, of course, I turned my back upon him; but even as I did
-it, I lay upon the bench, and two Kossaks raised the knout of Damocles
-above me to execute the stroke of death, when the general declared
-I should be let off this once with a black eye. One of the Kossaks
-proceeded to strike me one, and the general shook my hand heartily,
-assuring me that soon no Christian should sigh at the hands of the
-Turk. I saluted him by laying two fingers of my right hand upon my
-injured eye, and the general turned to continue his way.
-
-The Roumanians who had hastened to the spot to witness the passage
-of the Pruth cursed with ringing hurrahs, and waved their hats with
-clenched fists.
-
-I hastened to Kars, where there is a skirmish going on.
-
-  BATUM, _April 26_.
-
-The Russians and Turks had pitched into each other near Batum. I stood
-upon a pile of corpses where I had a good view. The Turks struck to
-the right and left with such vehemence that all their crooked swords
-were soon fully straightened out. The Russians did not wait to be told
-twice, and knew no mercy. The thunder of the cannons was terrible.
-Boom! boom! only a good deal louder. Ill-luck would have it that I
-came to stand right between a Russian and a Turk, and they both shot
-at me at the same moment. I stooped down quickly, and both fell down
-lifeless, each having been pierced by the other’s ball. It was a
-marvellous escape. The scythe of Charon spared me by a miracle, as it
-were.
-
-For hours the battle raged. Finally it was left undecided. The
-Russians, as well as the Turks, were victorious. Exhausted with
-hardships, and with the display of courage, I at last fell asleep upon
-a drum, and did not awake until a Russian beat the retreat upon me.
-_C’est la guerre!_
-
-Soon there will be more or less more.
-
-TO HERR WIPPCHEN AT BERNAU.
-
-Since the 3rd you have not sent us a single skirmish, for we presume
-you do not expect us to look upon your request for a further
-remittance, with which we unfortunately complied, in the light of a war
-report. You seem to take the oriental complication as an opportunity to
-live in the country at our expense. Do you think this is acting like
-our own correspondent? If so, you mistake. If we do not receive one of
-the bloodiest battles by return post, we shall look about for another
-war-correspondent. It was only yesterday that one of the profession
-offered his services, declaring his readiness to furnish us with war at
-5-pfennige a line. We wish to bring this to your notice, saluting you
-in the firm expectation of a desperate conflict.
-
-  Yours cordially,
-
-  THE EDITOR.
-
-  PARIS, _May 14, 1878_.
-
-Here I sit in my cosy _pro doma_, which I have rented with my
-hard-earned savings on the bulwarks of the temple (_Boulevard du
-Temple_). It was so hot at the exhibition that it seemed as if Helios
-had poured out all the tropics upon it, and when at last I turned to
-leave I found that all the cabs were filled with weary visitors.
-
-The soirée at Minister Waddington’s was a very brilliant affair. The
-entire aristocracy and plebeocracy of Paris was present. Especially the
-Prince of Wales. He looks for all the world exactly like his mother.
-When I was presented to him, he at once got entangled in a lengthy
-toast. It is well known that the prince is a connoisseur in delicately
-done slices of bread. He closed with the words, “In this sense I
-seize the empty glass and fill it to the alliance between Germany and
-England.” I answered with, “God save the Queen,” in which I joined with
-fervour. I then added, “In this toast every German will join so long as
-he calls his soul his own upon this terrestrial globe.”
-
-“To be, or not to be,” replied the prince, and thereupon he toasted on
-the alliance between England and the terrestrial globe. I recommended
-the prince to the favour of heaven, whereupon he toasted the alliance
-between England and heaven. He then joined other groups, and toasted
-every one of them. Presently he left the soirée, not without having
-favoured the footman in the ante-chamber, who helped him on with his
-overcoat, with a toast. When he was in his carriage, he was overheard
-to pronounce several toasts to the Paris vehicles, the driver, the moon
-and stars, and the institution of street-gas.
-
-No wonder the prince is very popular in Paris society!
-
-Yesterday His Serenity the Shah left. A few hours before his departure
-I saw him at the exhibition standing before a piece of soap (_savon_).
-“How much is this letter-weight?” he inquired, and thereupon bought it.
-
-  _Julius Stettenheim._
-
-
-
-
-_SCHNORPS’ SWALLOW-TAIL._
-
-
-HE played the bass viol in the orchestra of the theatre.
-
-The bass viol had come to be the hereditary instrument for all the
-male members of the Schnorps family, who were invariably musical,
-and I remember an anecdote from the life of Aegidius Schnorps, the
-grandfather of my hero, which well deserves to be handed down to
-posterity.
-
-Of course Aegidius played the hereditary instrument. But he did
-not play it at the Royal Theatre; he had not yet arrived at such
-distinction. Instead of that he was a member of a rather obscure band
-which used to gather its laurels at country dances on Sundays and
-special holidays. The leader was supposed to furnish the bass viol,
-but the Schnorpses had always had their own instrument, and prided
-themselves not a little upon this family possession. Although the
-peasants were not at all particular about any involuntary variations
-that might perchance find their way into the tune, for ’tis easy to
-pipe to those that want to dance, it so happened that one day Father
-Aegidius produced tones of such singular impurity that the leader,
-whose week-day occupation was that of an honest shoemaker, called out,
-greatly enraged, “Confound you, Aegedi, why don’t you play right?”
-“Hold your tongue, shoemaker!” replied the indignant Schnorps. “I can
-play as I please; this bass belongs to me.”
-
-Ah yes, they were always very self-sufficient, were the Schnorpses, and
-had little respect for the rest of the world. They were always trying
-to force their square heads through thick and thin.
-
-After Aegidius came Sebastian Schnorps, who of course also devoted
-himself to the grumbling bass, and who was gathered unto his fathers
-in the very midst of his professional activity, inasmuch as he and his
-instrument fell down together from a high ladder, by means of which he
-had intended to reach a place in a barn which should furnish him the
-necessary acoustic conditions for evolving seraphic tones, and properly
-affecting the crowd of dancing peasants beneath him.
-
-Peace be unto his ashes!
-
-After him came Gottlieb Schnorps, the man who is to occupy our
-attention to-day. It were really needless to say that the hereditary
-proclivity had come down to him, if it were not incumbent upon me
-to do justice to him by mentioning the fact that he was a musician
-of a better sort than his ancestors. He had worked his way up from
-a country fiddler, had studied a little, and though in his general
-manner and bearing he had remained true to the family traditions of
-the Schnorpses, he had struck out a new path in going to see something
-of the world, and one day he came back with the contract of a court
-engagement in his pocket, and with a wife whom the dear God must have
-created for his special convenience, so well were her characteristics
-adapted to his.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-They arranged their life as they thought best. Either he quarrelled
-with his wife or she with him, or both of them with the children, or
-the latter among each other--between times the bass viol grumbled, for
-Schnorps was always hard at work developing his musical faculties--in
-short, their home life was a lively one.
-
-If Schnorps had only been a little neater in his personal
-appearance!--but in this respect he did little honour to the Royal
-Orchestra. His shabbiness had grown proverbial. He had a special
-predilection for an enormous cravat to conceal the doubtful purity of
-his linen from the eyes of the curious. His coat was seldom brushed,
-and the lower part of his coat-sleeves shone like a mirror.
-
-The pride of his heart was a dress-coat, which he donned only on
-extraordinary occasions. He had brought himself to purchase this
-piece of wearing apparel only by dint of the rigorous etiquette
-of the Royal Theatre, which authoritatively demanded the use of a
-dress-coat on certain days. It never occurred to him to have a new
-one, and he wandered from junk-shop to junk-shop until he found a
-specimen at Solomon Hoffa’s, which he purchased for one thaler and
-some odd groschens, and which he thereafter wore to the horror of all
-respectable people, and to the annoyance of the entire orchestra.
-
-It was really too shabbily old-fashioned. In fact, it was a disgrace
-to the corporation. The collar was of such goodly size as to almost
-completely hide the square head of Schnorps; the sleeves were so tight
-that Gottlieb could only with difficulty properly belabour his bass
-viol, and the broad tails stood out like the arms of a windmill from
-the lank legs of the wearer.
-
-One morning he received a formidable-looking square letter, with
-the well-known official green seal, in which he was notified in the
-politest of language, but with all possible decision, that when taking
-part in the orchestra in future he was to appear in a coat which was
-more in harmony with the dignity of a Royal Theatre, and less likely to
-excite the risibility of the audience.
-
-This left no room for doubt, it was certainly plain enough. Schnorps
-raged--talked about tyranny, interference with personal freedom,
-scolded his wife, and flogged all the young Schnorpses; but there was
-no help for it--the acquisition of a new coat loomed upon the horizon
-as an inexorable necessity.
-
-And now occurred what had never occurred before. For several days
-in succession the townspeople saw the bass violinist Schnorps and
-his spouse walk about from one clothing shop to another. In each one
-they entered into lengthy negotiations, only to pass on after a time
-grumbling and scolding about the outrageous prices, until at last the
-firm of J. M. Lindenfeld had the good fortune to come to terms with
-Herr and Frau Schnorps about a new and handsome swallow-tail coat.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-[Illustration: “IT WAS A DISGRACE TO THE CORPORATION.”]
-
-“I’ll tell you what, Sally,” said the bass violinist one day to his
-better-half; “though I’ve been forced by pure tyranny to spend a sinful
-lot of money on that new dress-coat, there’s no earthly reason why I
-shouldn’t get all the good I can out of the old one. I wish you’d just
-send for old Peter and tell him to make Michel a jacket out of it; it
-will last the boy many a year.”
-
-Old Peter was a tailor whose chief art lay in mending and patching up
-old garments, and Michel was the eldest sprout and heir pretendent to
-the bass viol of the Schnorpses.
-
-The tailor came, made a very close and conscientious examination of the
-old swallow-tail by the aid of a pair of enormous horn spectacles, and
-finally declared, with great decision, that the article in question
-had had its day, and that there was not the slightest possibility of
-renovating it.
-
-This was a terrible shock for Schnorps, for Peter’s judgment was
-considered quite incontrovertible, and when there was anything to be
-made out of an old garment he did it. This he had proved time and time
-again in the wardrobe of the Schnorpses. So there was nothing for it
-but to stow away the old dress-coat among other venerable relics, and
-it might have stayed there to this day if Frau Sally Schnorps had not
-hit upon a brilliant plan.
-
-Hoods were quite the fashion just then, and why not make a hood out
-of a dress-coat? It might be trimmed with a quantity of ribbons and
-laces to conceal the shabbiness of the cloth, which latter could still
-further be improved upon by being turned. She was very proud of this
-idea, and forthwith called upon a deaf old seamstress, who often worked
-for her, and who was quite noted for her stupidity, but aside from
-that was a poor, unassuming woman who patiently worked for her living
-without expecting any generous remuneration. This last quality had
-served to gain her the good will of Frau Schnorps, into the mysteries
-of whose housekeeping she was thoroughly initiated.
-
-She came and found the wife of the bass violinist at the door, about
-to go out, while Schnorps was rehearsing for the opera. In brief words
-Frau Sally explained to her that in the big wardrobe upstairs there
-was a dress-coat of her husband’s which was quite worth the trouble of
-making over, and which she wished to be metamorphosed into a hood for
-herself.
-
-“Very well, very well, I’ll see to it all right, Frau Schnorps,”
-replied the old woman; and while Frau Sally Schnorps went to market,
-her mind quite at rest, she entered the house where the youngest of
-the Schnorpses, who had been left to guard the domestic hearth, handed
-over the dress-coat, which she thereupon took home to “make over.” And
-she did it. When she came back, after a day or two, the old dress-coat
-had become a new head-covering, which, to be sure, was rather heavily
-decorated with lace and various trimmings, but for this very reason
-exactly suited the taste of Madam Schnorps. It is true, her husband
-said, that now you could see that the dress-coat had really not been
-so bad, and that the money which went for the new one might have been
-put to some better use, but there was no use crying over spilt milk,
-the tyrannical intendant had decreed that it should be so, and he
-philosophically added--
-
-    “For every evil under the sun
-    There is a remedy or there’s none.
-    If there is one, try and find it,
-    If there isn’t, never mind it.”
-
-When autumn came the wife of the musician walked forth proudly in her
-new hood, and about the same time her husband received an invitation
-to spend the evening at the house of an old general, who was a great
-lover of music, and famous for his bachelor’s suppers, which added a
-great attraction to his musical evenings. The old gentleman had a high
-opinion of Gottlieb Schnorps as a musician, and would have liked to ask
-him long ago, but he had never been able to bring himself to do so on
-account of Schnorps’s shabbiness, and the bass violinist was indebted
-for this invitation chiefly to his new coat.
-
-Schnorps was highly elated to receive it, and his mouth watered at the
-thought of all the culinary delights which would await him after the
-music.
-
-When the auspicious day came he devoted an unusual amount of care and
-attention to his toilet. Although it was only Thursday, he permitted
-himself the luxury of a clean shirt, bought himself--and this was the
-rarest of extravagances--a pair of white cotton gloves, even went so
-far as to brush his black trousers with a certain amount of energy, a
-thing he never did on ordinary occasions, so as not to wear out the
-cloth.
-
-“Get my dress-coat out, Sally,” he said in the evening, and she went
-upstairs in obedience to his behest.
-
-Now it was that something horrible occurred!
-
-As Schnorps’s spouse opened the door of the wardrobe and put her hand
-in behind all the ancestral garments, she screamed aloud, for there,
-like a ghost of bygone days, the old swallow-tail grinned at her in
-the full glory of its invulnerable perfection. She turned it about
-again and again, and thought she was losing her reason--there was not
-a particle of doubt of it, it was undeniably the same coat which she
-had fondly believed she had been wearing on her head in the elaborated
-and decorative shape of a new hood. In wild excitement she turned the
-contents of the wardrobe topsy-turvy; trousers and coats were flung
-about to the right and to the left, but there was no vestige to be seen
-of the new dress-coat, and with convincing force the certainty came to
-her that the stupid old seamstress had cut up the new garment instead
-of the old to manufacture her head-gear therefrom.
-
-So that was the reason it looked so well! Ah, now everything was clear.
-
-“If Schnorps gets wind of this he’ll murder me,” sighed Frau Sally, and
-so much was certain, this affair must be hushed up for the time being.
-
-But how was she to accomplish this?
-
-She glanced out of the window at the neighbouring house, and a saving
-idea flitted through her mind. Stealthily she crept downstairs and out
-at the back door, and hastily entering the house across the way she
-poured out the sad tale of her misfortunes into the sympathetic ear of
-her neighbour, imploring her to help her out of her difficulties by
-lending her the dress-coat of her husband just for this one night.
-
-The good-natured woman was easily won, and an hour later Schnorps,
-happily unconscious of the state of affairs, and attired in his
-neighbour’s dress-coat, was on his way to the general, the servant of
-the latter walking behind him and dragging along his heavy bass viol.
-
-The coat was somewhat tight, which fact caused its wearer to remark, as
-he was putting it on, that he was really growing stout in spite of his
-moderate way of living.
-
-Poor innocent Schnorps!
-
-The musical performance had passed off greatly to the satisfaction
-of the old general, and the ensuing excellent supper was no less to
-the satisfaction of his guests. The bass violinist indulged himself
-most freely in the good things set before him, and manifested a
-degree of steady perseverance as if he had fasted for a fortnight to
-fitly prepare himself for this special feast. He left nothing undone,
-plateful after plateful vanished, one glass of delicious wine after
-another disappeared in the bottomless pit of his eating apparatus, and
-whenever he thought himself unobserved he helped himself freely to
-generous handfuls of sweets, depositing them in the voluminous pockets
-of his dress-coat.
-
-Ah, he was a kind father, when he had nothing to lose thereby, and he
-was quite willing to be a bringer of dainties to his dear ones at home.
-
-The guests remained until very late, and of course Schnorps was the
-last to go. It was somewhere near two in the morning when he reeled
-home in a condition which really put every well-intentioned cab-driver
-under the moral obligation of turning out for him.
-
-Arrived at the door of his house, he indulged in some profoundly
-philosophical reflections about the preposterous size of keys, and the
-smallness of the corresponding keyholes--so profound, in fact, that he
-sat for a long, long time upon the stone-steps, his head buried in his
-hands, and his eyes closed, until at dawn a cool breath of air roused
-him from his meditations, so that he rose shivering and passed into the
-house.
-
-After several hours of refreshing sleep he awoke in no very enviable
-condition. He looked about him with wondering eyes, and suddenly he
-opened them to abnormal width as if to pierce the object upon which
-they fell.
-
-It was the new swallow-tail. Merciful heavens, how it looked! During
-his _siesta_ on the door-steps he had sat upon the cream-filled candies
-he had in his pocket, and the mixture of chocolate, sugar, and fruit
-had formed into a sticky crust on the tails of his coat which was truly
-horrible to behold.
-
-The bass violinist jumped out of bed at a single bound, and examined
-the luckless coat, which in the very flower of its youth had been
-called upon to endure such hardships.
-
-“When my old woman sees that, there’ll be a row,” he muttered, passing
-his hand desperately through his bristling locks. He seized a brush
-and began to belabour the swallow-tail with an amount of energy such
-as he had never before displayed; but although his perseverance was
-rewarded by the disappearance of some of the smaller stains, the large
-blurs which had been caused by the crushed chocolate-drops would yield
-to no amount of brushing, the less so as they were still moist, and by
-rubbing acquired a more formidable appearance.
-
-Meanwhile he heard his wife beginning to stir in her room, and poor
-terrified Schnorps, who at times quaked in his shoes before his fair
-spouse, puzzled his head to find some remedy for his trouble. Suddenly
-it occurred to him that years ago he had bought a bottle of benzine
-which he knew must be somewhere in his room.
-
-[Illustration: “HE SEIZED A BRUSH AND BEGAN TO BELABOUR THE
-SWALLOW-TAIL.”]
-
-He found a dozen bottles on top of the wardrobe, but how was he to know
-which was the one he wanted? He rummaged until he discovered one at the
-sight of which the certainty dawned within his dizzy brain that this
-was it. He spread out the unfortunate coat upon the table, poured a
-generous supply of the liquid supposed to be benzine upon it, and was
-about to rub it in with his handkerchief when a horrible sight appeared
-before him.
-
-Wherever a drop of the fluid had fallen, the cloth turned red; and
-before the perplexed violinist could find an explanation for this
-remarkable metamorphosis, there appeared upon the coat an infinite
-number of large and small holes which sealed its doom for now and
-eternity.
-
-It so happened that instead of benzine, Schnorps had laid hold of a
-bottle of sulphuric acid, which he had once used to clean the screws of
-his instrument.
-
-When he realised what had happened, he certainly expected to go
-mad, and he weakly fell back in his chair, gazing fixedly upon his
-murdered swallow-tail. His head whirled--the new coat--his wife--the
-15 thalers--the intendant--sulphuric acid--all was swallowed up in one
-wild eddy, and it was some time before he regained any self-possession.
-
-Ye saints! it would never do to have his wife get hold of this! The
-first thing to do was to remove the article in question. Hastily he
-dressed himself, slipped on his felt slippers, hid the dress-coat
-beneath his dressing-gown, and stealthily crept upstairs, where he hid
-it, with many misgivings, in the utmost depths of the old wardrobe.
-
-It was high time, for when he came back his better-half appeared upon
-the scene. Never had she inspired him with such terror as at this
-moment, and yet never since the days of their honeymoon had he bidden
-her good-morning as tenderly as he did to-day. She too was unusually
-amiable, a fact which only weighed the more upon his guilty conscience.
-
-“Well, did you have a pleasant evening?” she asked.
-
-“Oh yes, very nice--yes--quite nice!” he replied, in an embarrassed
-tone of voice.
-
-“Oh, indeed!” she said, glancing about her as if she were looking for
-something, which caused poor Schnorps to tremble again.
-
-“What are you looking for, dear?”
-
-She gazed at him in surprise. Dear? He had only called her so once
-before, and that was when he asked her if she would have him.
-
-“Nothing--that is--where’s your new coat?”
-
-“The coat,” he answered, shaking in his shoes; “what do you want it
-for?”
-
-“I should like to put it away,” she said very gently.
-
-“You needn’t do that. I put it where it belongs.”
-
-“Where it belongs?” she asked in great excitement.
-
-“Why yes,” replied Schnorps; “upstairs in the wardrobe.”
-
-“Ah, so,” she remarked, greatly relieved--“in the wardrobe! Yes, yes!
-Well, come and have your breakfast, Gottlieb; I am coming down in a
-minute.”
-
-With these words she walked out, and now it was Schnorps’ turn to take
-a deep breath of relief.
-
-He finished dressing and gradually became more tranquil--but it was the
-tranquillity that precedes a mighty storm.
-
-The reader can readily imagine what followed.
-
-After a pause of ten minutes, the shrill voice of Frau Sally rang
-through the house in a manner which made all the inmates start and
-tremble. Intending to return the borrowed coat to its rightful
-possessor, she had discovered the catastrophe, and raged like a lunatic.
-
-At first Schnorps tried to defend himself and to comfort her, but
-when he began to understand all the details and complications of the
-hapless tale,--when he heard that he had ruined his neighbour’s coat,
-and that his own had long ago gone to perdition by means of his wife’s
-thoughtlessness and the old seamstress’s stupidity, then his wrath knew
-no bounds.
-
-It was really too much. To have to pay for _two_ new dress-coats, and
-to have none! it was death to him, it would bring him to an untimely
-grave.
-
-I will cast the mantle of Christian charity over the ensuing scene; but
-to this day the neighbours talk about the row that took place at the
-house of the Schnorpses after the general’s party.
-
-  _Fritz Brentano._
-
-
-
-
-_THE MAN OF ORDER._
-
-
-SO far as I am concerned, I must confess that I am not greatly
-interested either in painted Empresses, or in Cardinals, or in Pashas.
-My attention was riveted upon a lank, lean man, who must have been of
-unusual length when he was standing up, a man with white hair and a
-grey beard, round blue glasses before his eyes, beneath them a nose
-shaped like a potato, and a thin-lipped mouth drawn down at the corners
-in a sardonic smile. On his head there was a straw hat, the brim of
-which was of a width such as I had never before met with. This person
-sat upon a camp-stool, holding with his left hand a parasol lined with
-green over the afore-mentioned straw hat, and with his right hand
-guiding a small telescope screwed to a stick, which was fastened in
-the ground. There is no need to say that the ruler and guider of this
-telescope was reconnoitring the châlet across the way. What pleased me
-best was the fussiness, the apparatus, and the intensity of research
-which served the man’s curiosity. Surely this was the last of the
-Mohicans, one of the last original characters which are disappearing
-more and more out of the insipid level of our most modern mediocrity
-and uniformity. Who was the man? The dear old village of Ragaz has,
-by no means to the delight of everybody, grown into a “fashionable”
-resort, and one meets queer enough figures there every summer. But one
-like the man with a telescope and camp-stool, who had improvised an
-observatory on the spur of the moment, is an exotic plant, even in the
-Ragaz of to-day, and is well worth the trouble of observation.
-
-[Illustration: “WHO WAS THE MAN?”]
-
-What a pity, I thought, that Amadeus Hoffmann is no more among the
-living, or Edgar Poe. For either of them this fellow would have been a
-find.
-
-Gradually the spectators dispersed, as neither the empress, who had
-been turned out of her empire, nor the cardinal, who had taken the hint
-that he was superfluous, condescended to show themselves, and as it
-was getting rather dull to gaze upon the red fez of the pasha, which
-was just visible above the railing of the verandah at the right. At
-last there were only two left: the telescope man, who continued his
-observations, and my worthy self observing the obdurate observer.
-
-Finally, we both accomplished our purpose--he in seeing Madonna Eugenia
-and the Prince-Cardinal leave the house in quick succession, I in being
-a witness to the geometrical correctness with which the discoverer took
-down his observatory.
-
-His motions were as measured as if he felt it incumbent upon him to
-keep time to the music of the spheres. His very manner of getting up
-showed a man who never puts one foot before the other without having
-incontestably assured himself where he was about to tread. When his
-long bony figure had drawn itself out to its full length his first
-object was to see clearly. For this purpose he cautiously removed his
-spectacles from his potato-shaped nose and wiped the large, round
-blue glasses emphatically with a piece of soft leather he produced
-out of his right vest-pocket. Having put back the piece of leather
-and the spectacles to their original place, he commenced the work of
-packing up, without haste and without delay. At first the telescope
-was unscrewed, reduced to its smallest dimensions, wiped on all sides
-with a large red silk handkerchief, and enclosed in a leather case, out
-of which he had carefully blown the dust, and which he now laid down
-gently upon the camp-stool. Hereupon he pulled out the stick which had
-served as a holder for his telescope until now, but which, upon nearer
-acquaintance, proved to be a perfect miracle, a very encyclopædia of
-a stick, so to say. It was evidently the pride and joy of its happy
-possessor. There could be no doubt of that from the satisfaction with
-which he touched the various springs of the complicated apparatus to
-display the countless metamorphoses which made the stick appear in turn
-as a common cane, as an umbrella, as a hoe, as a geological hammer,
-as a pocket-dagger, as a candle-snuffer, as a reading-desk, as a
-corkscrew, as a cup, as a chisel, as an inkstand, and as various other
-things. At last I should really not have been surprised if this Chinese
-puzzle had suddenly put on the garb of a speaker in Parliament.
-
-The man could read open admiration, the most unselfish of human
-sympathy, from my countenance, and consequently felt impelled to say,
-as he pointed to his stick, having reduced it to its most primitive
-form: “It is the result of five years of theoretic studies and three
-years of practical constructive experiments. Ay, sir, with genius and
-order one can accomplish some pretty good things upon this disorderly
-earth.”
-
-With that he leaned his miraculous staff carefully against a tree,
-buckled his telescope-case to a broad strap which hung across his right
-shoulder like a bandoleer, took up his camp-stool, devoted himself
-assiduously to reducing it to infinitesimal dimensions, and buckled the
-object, which in its present shape no person would ever have suspected
-of being a chair, to his strap. He then took up his encyclopædic stick,
-lightly pricked the ground with the point, and remarked, in the full
-consciousness of work well done: “All’s in order! Cardinal, Pasha,
-Ex-empress, all done up in good order.”
-
-“Heilige Ordnung, segensreiche,” I began, quoting Schiller.
-
-“Yes, sir; that is the wisest word ever the immortal Marbach sage
-pronounced. To say that, he must have been a man of order himself. And
-that he was so is proved to-day by his printed note-book. Unfortunately
-his collection of pill-bills has not yet been published. Nor Goethe’s
-Rhine-wine bills. Neither, I am sorry to say, have we as yet any
-printed proofs of the number of pipe-lighters which were twisted
-for Johann Heinrich Voss by his prudent housewife Ernestine. At the
-same time I must admit that gradually we are reducing our history of
-literature to something like order. There is nothing like a basis of
-scientific research. This alone will bring light into chaos. When we
-have once succeeded in establishing the relation of Goethe’s digestion
-to his poetic production, then we may set to work to discover the
-relation of the first part of _Faust_ to the second. Happily there
-are men living and working who know that the so-called minutiæ and
-bagatelles of life are in reality the most important things. I know a
-Leipsic professor who has brought together scientific proof to show
-that true literature is that which has been contemptuously dubbed
-waste-paper-basket-literature. I know another Alexandrian ditto of
-Leipsic who is to edit a work which his friends have signalled in
-advance as about to create a new epoch in literature, the title of
-which will be, ‘The Wash-bills of our Classic and Romantic Poets,
-being a Collection of Records and Documents for a Prospective
-Inductive Analytical History of German Literature of the Eighteenth
-and Nineteenth Centuries.’ I know a third Byzantian of Leipsic, who
-plans to bring the art of writing diplomatic history up to the acme of
-perfection. He has made the different kinds of snuff which Frederick
-the Great indulged in the objects of his preliminary investigations, in
-order to be able to furnish proof of the effect which each individual
-sort had upon the brain-nerves of said Frederick, and consequently upon
-the destiny of the human race. Do you see, sir, that is what I call a
-truly scientific spirit, a healthy realism that, a spirit of sterling
-accuracy! Three groans for anything like disorder! It is incredible
-what a mischief-maker disorder is in these days! There was a fellow
-the other day had the audacity to spell Goethe G-ö-t-h-e throughout
-an entire book! Would you believe it? Fortunately he got his fingers
-whacked right heartily with the academical rattan. ‘Göthe’! what do you
-think of it? Of course it is idiotic in German to write the diphthongs
-_ä_, _ö_, _ü_ as if they were _æ_, _œ_, _ue_--I’ll admit that, and
-I dare say Goethe himself would to-day save himself the trouble of
-putting in the extra _e_, but the orthography of G-o-e-t-h-e has once
-been established, and in the interest of order I would advise none but
-anarchists and rebels to be so godless as to leave out the _e_. The law
-of order is supreme, in great and in the greatest, in small and in the
-smallest.”
-
-He stopped exhausted and gasped for breath. “On earth and in the
-heavens,” I added at haphazard.
-
-“In the heavens? Not that I know of!” he said, drawing down the corners
-of his mouth. At the same time he touched his lifted cane, allowing the
-candle-snuffers to protrude for a moment, as if he were about to snuff
-out all anarchic stars in the firmament. “Do you know, in the so-called
-heavens there is not much order? The disorderly conduct of the comets
-should have been interfered with long ago. And then this transit of
-Venus, what do you say to that? Do you call that order? Venus should go
-in a decent and orderly manner above or below the sun, but certainly
-not straight before his Majesty’s very nose. Why, it is like snapping
-his fingers at the sun; it’s disrespectful, it’s opposed to all
-decorum, to all order.”
-
-So saying he darted away from me--we had meanwhile reached the hotel
-“Hof Ragaz,” and entering the right wing had walked upstairs--and like
-a whirlwind he pounced upon a table standing in the hall, about which
-evidently there was something not in order.
-
-“There it is again!” he muttered, slowly passing the tip of his
-fore-finger over the top of the table until upon the dusty surface the
-word “Dust” appeared in large type capitals.
-
-“Hang those women!” grumbled the owner of the magic staff. “Will you
-believe me when I tell you that yesterday I wrote the same cry of
-warning upon the top of this table? All in vain!”
-
-And setting down his elaborately-constructed cane with well-tempered
-force upon the first step of the staircase leading to the third storey,
-he continued: “Tell me, dear sir, did you ever in the course of your
-experience meet with a person of the feminine sex, be it child, girl,
-or matron, who could ever be prevailed upon by means of exhortation,
-kindness, severity, diplomacy, or force to fully shut the latch of a
-door, or turn down the bolt of a window-sash?”
-
-“No, to tell the truth, I have never met a feminine person of that
-description.”
-
-“I thought so!” he continued, with a triumphant smile. “Oh, if you
-knew all the trouble, all the untold trouble, I have taken for years
-to teach the women-folks at home to properly shut doors and windows.
-All in vain! But do you know how I punish the disorderly batch at home?
-Whenever I find a door left upon the latch, or a window with the bolt
-but half-turned, I at once lift the door or the sash out of the hinges
-and lean it against the wall. This has the desired effect of vexing the
-women and giving them additional work, especially in winter. There’s
-nothing like the law of order. But do you call that order, eh?”
-
-And with a degree of moral indignation he pointed to a row of
-milk-stains upon the stairs. One of the chamber-maids, hastening up or
-down stairs with a breakfast-tray, had not kept an eye properly upon
-the milk-pitcher.
-
-What did our fanatic in the cause of order? Something I had never seen
-before. He pulled a piece of chalk out of his pocket, and step by step
-he marked a neat circle round about each drop of milk.
-
-“You see,” he said, “this is the way I do at home to call the attention
-of the women to such offences against all sense of decency and modesty,
-which of course they never see and correct of their own accord. Oh,
-disorder, thy name is woman.”
-
-  _Johannes Scherr_.
-
-
-
-
-_THE LUXURY OF GOING ABOUT INCOGNITO._
-
-
-FOR six years the couple had lived in a very small town, in which
-each inhabitant could furnish a detailed biography of his neighbour,
-possessed an intimate knowledge of his daily _menu_, and knew just
-when the post delivered a package to him--the size and shape of
-which package being made the subject of conversation at the next
-coffee-party, where also unfailing conclusions were arrived at as to
-the contents and sender of the object in question. Judge Schwarz, being
-a person of distinction in town, naturally suffered more than others
-under the zealous observation of his neighbours, and was quite sure
-that he could not have a button sewed on his coat without having his
-friends mention the fact to each other and make their comments upon
-it;--ay, he went so far as to believe himself particularly favoured by
-good fortune if the local paper did not get hold of the important event
-and retail it to its readers the next morning in a sprightly editorial.
-
-This consciousness had in the course of years reached such a stage in
-the judge’s mind as to become utterly unendurable; and as in certain
-individuals painful inner experiences seek to become personified in
-some external object, so all this small-town gossip, this puerile
-mutual observation and control, seemed to concentrate itself in the
-person of the Apothecary Lebermann, a good-natured but essentially
-prosy person, possessed of an insatiable curiosity, who was interested
-in the whole world, and wanted to know everything--on the other hand
-taking for granted that others had as lively a concern about him and
-the experiences of his daily life.
-
-On the day on which our story begins the judge was returning from court
-in rather an irritable mood, and his face darkened perceptibly as he
-saw the apothecary coming to meet him.
-
-While it was, as we have said, Herr Lebermann’s justifiable peculiarity
-to desire to know everything, and with a rare toughness of purpose to
-work upon his neighbour with queries until the other would fling the
-desired information at his head in a fit of uncontrollable indignation,
-the judge was the most uncommunicative of mortals. It was his intention
-that no one should know what he did, or where he bought his things, or
-with whom he kept up a correspondence--ay, even his Christian name was
-to him a matter of deep secrecy; in fact, a sharp altercation between
-him and his wife had once been brought about by no other cause than
-that she had failed to fully understand his feelings in this respect,
-and unadvisedly addressing him one day on the railroad with the
-harmless remark, “See the charming view, Karl!” had unmasked him before
-his fellow-travellers.
-
-Here these two gentlemen, as unlike as possible in their peculiarities,
-met upon the street, and while the judge was as nimble as an eel in
-trying to escape the apothecary, the latter was equally assiduous
-in his efforts to detain him, and opened the conversation with the
-apparently unnecessary question, “Coming from court so early to-day,
-Herr Schwarz?”
-
-“No!” replied the judge unkindly.
-
-“No?” repeated Herr Lebermann, in a tone of surprise. “This is the way
-I generally see you come. Where have you been, then?”
-
-Apparently the judge was deaf.
-
-“Seems to me you generally come from court at this time of day,”
-persisted Herr Lebermann; “Ah, I see, you don’t care to tell me,” he
-added pleasantly, “but I know all about it just the same!”
-
-“If you know it there’s no need of asking,” growled the judge.
-
-“And now you’re on your way home,” remarked Herr Lebermann, with the
-blissful serenity of a man who has accomplished his purpose of knowing
-all about the aims and intents of other people. “I’ll walk along with
-you a bit. I am always out for a constitutional at this time of day!”
-
-“That’s a wise thing to do!” remarked Herr Schwarz with fatal
-indifference.
-
-“And when I get home I eat my sandwich,” the apothecary confidentially
-informed him; “only one, you know, so as not to take away my appetite
-for dinner! By the way, that reminds me--how does it agree with you to
-dine so much later?”
-
-The judge gave him a scathing look. “How do you know that I dine later
-than usual?” he asked indignantly.
-
-“You see, your cook is the sister of our maid, and she told her about
-it. You dine at half-past two, don’t you?”
-
-“Sometimes,” cried the irritated judge, struggling to control his
-temper; “here we are at my house--good morning, Herr Lebermann!”
-
-“One moment!” said the apothecary, taking possession of the judge’s
-button-hole while the latter was angrily seeking to escape; “there
-seems to be company at your house.”
-
-“Why?” asked Schwarz, trembling with ire--he had fetched his
-sister-in-law from the station twelve hours ago, long after nightfall,
-and had hoped that the fact of her presence was as yet unknown.
-
-“Well, I saw your maid buy _three_ little tarts at the pastry-cook’s
-this morning,” said the apothecary innocently; “she generally takes
-only two--so I thought, perhaps----”
-
-The judge darted a glance of utter contempt at his companion.
-
-“Why did you not take it for granted I might desire to eat _two_ tarts
-to-day?” he said with alarming politeness, and then walked into the
-house full of wrath.
-
-Weighty decisions were ripening within him, and the result of his
-deliberation became apparent as he sat down to lunch with his ladies,
-and suddenly delivered himself of the astonishing words: “We’ll start
-for Berlin this evening!”
-
-Helen dropped her fork and gazed at her husband with wide-open eyes.
-“This evening?”
-
-“When I say this evening I don’t mean next year,” growled the
-paterfamilias. “That’s just like a woman! Here you’ve always been
-talking and begging to go and travel--to go and leave this miserable
-little place for awhile, and now when I offer to go, you raise
-objections!”
-
-“My dear Karl!” began his wife soothingly, “I was only taken by
-surprise at your sudden resolve. What can have occurred to bring it
-about?”
-
-“I’m tired of this small town gossip, and more especially of the
-apothecary!” said Karl, energetically. “Confound it--I can’t blow my
-nose but that Lebermann sends to inquire if I have a cold! I want to
-go and see what life is like in a large town, where I can go about
-_incognito_. I can just manage to get away over Sunday. We’ll take
-three round-trip tickets and go to Berlin this evening. Go and pack
-your things!”
-
-He folded his napkin and got up. A low exclamation from Annchen
-interrupted him.
-
-“_Three?_--shall I go too?”
-
-[Illustration: “HELEN WAS SOFTLY CARESSING ON ONE SIDE, HIS LITTLE
-SISTER-IN-LAW PATTING HIS SHOULDER ON THE OTHER.”]
-
-There was such an unmistakable expression of rapture upon her
-charming face that a smile stole across the features of her growling
-brother-in-law.
-
-“Well, I should think so,” he said; “did you suppose we would leave you
-at home?”
-
-“Thank you, Karl--thank you!” cried Annchen, in a state of bliss; and
-while Helen was softly caressing her “bear” upon one side, his little
-sister-in-law was patting his shoulder upon the other, crying, “Thank
-you, Karl,--I think you are perfectly lovely!”
-
-“Well, you’re the first person that has told me so since I was two
-years old,” remarked the judge, whose dudgeon was melting under the
-beams of the rapture he had been the cause of, like snow before the
-summer’s sun. “Now I know how to tame such shy little birds. What,
-Helen? Perfectly lovely, am I?”
-
-And with a half-ironical, half-flattered shrug of his shoulders he left
-the room to devote himself to assiduous studies of the time-table,
-which to him, as to most people who rarely travel, was a book of seven
-seals.
-
-The day on which this memorable resolution was formed was a cold, windy
-autumn day, making it imperative to choose warm clothing for the night
-journey. All day the ladies were occupied with putting their wearing
-apparel in order, which, in the face of this journey, proved to be
-inadequate in many respects.
-
-“We’ll buy all that in Berlin,” said Helen consolingly to her sister,
-who was putting on her plain little straw hat with a look of deep
-concern, quite unconscious of the fact how charmingly becoming it was
-to her rosy face. The judge walked up and down in the room, casting
-brief remarks at his ladies from time to time. “Don’t take your entire
-outfit along just for two or three days,” he remarked warningly.
-
-Evening came fast enough; every moment was made the most of, and when
-the lamps were lit there was still this and that waiting to be attended
-to. At the last moment--they were just sitting down to tea--a thought
-struck the paterfamilias; he touched the bell.
-
-“Did you attend to what I told you this morning?” he asked the maid in
-his mystifying fashion.
-
-Pauline looked at her master with no very intelligent expression in her
-face.
-
-“What do you mean, sir?”
-
-“Did you get what I told you?” queried the judge. Pauline was silent,
-thereby giving most decided expression to her bewilderment.
-
-“Why, Karl, do tell her what you mean,” implored Helen; “there’s no
-time to be lost--we must be going!”
-
-“Very well,” replied the judge discontentedly; “of course it is more
-than you can endure not to know what I am referring to! Did you go and
-fetch my fur-lined great-coat from the furrier’s?”
-
-Pauline blushed guiltily.
-
-“Oh, dear me, I forgot all about it, sir--I’ll run there now as fast as
-I can!”
-
-“Yes, and you’ll run back no doubt when we are in the cars,” said her
-master contemptuously. “Well, then, I shall take my death of cold on
-the journey--at any rate I shall be spared the trouble of telling
-Lebermann just how my funeral came off!”
-
-“Well, well, Karl,” said Helen, soothing his dismal forebodings; “seems
-to me there might be some other way out of your difficulty. Pauline can
-fetch the great-coat to the station and hand it to you there. Do you
-understand, Pauline?”
-
-Pauline nodded humbly and departed, while the judge arose and took
-up the leather bag containing the money and tickets, and enjoined
-his ladies to make haste. “Put on your things, children--I think the
-carriage is coming!”
-
-As the party reached the station their happy mood was somewhat
-dampened, for Pauline and the great-coat were not in sight. All in vain
-did eager eyes pierce the darkness of night, and all were about to
-succumb to fate and take their seats in the car, when the long-expected
-one, like Schiller’s diver, appeared breathless upon the scene, holding
-the coat on high, and swinging it like a triumphal banner. The judge
-without delay slipped into the warmer garment, and indeed it was high
-time, for already the conductor was slamming to the doors of the other
-compartments,--a sharp whistle, and the train started.
-
-Our three travellers were in the rosiest mood imaginable. Helen, who
-had not set foot outside of the provincial town, which was now her
-home, since her marriage, pictured to herself the glories of Berlin in
-the brightest of hues, and Annchen dreamed vague, golden dreams, and
-indulged in exquisite air-castles, in which at the decisive moment her
-unknown hero was always seen leaning out of some window.
-
-The judge was gleefully rubbing his hands.
-
-“Now then--at last we are free of that miserable place,” he said,
-making himself comfortable in his corner of the compartment. “Now let
-us all go to sleep and open our eyes to-morrow morning in Berlin!”
-
-The train sped through the night air; and it was not until it had
-reached Berlin that the Schwarzes awoke with the proud consciousness of
-being in the Imperial Capital.
-
-The judge put his somewhat dishevelled head out of the window.
-
-“See the hurry and bustle of the crowd,” he said cheerfully. “This
-is rather different from the streets of Solau! Here the individual
-disappears like a drop in the ocean, and no one knows or cares what his
-neighbour is about. Come, children, we must get out!”
-
-He stretched himself with lazy ease, and took his hand-luggage down out
-of the net, then jumped down himself after his ladies.
-
-“Look you, there’s not a person knows us here,” he continued; “we can
-do exactly as we please for three days--it’s like being at a grand
-masquerade!”
-
-“Good morning, Herr Judge!” a voice cried at that moment behind him.
-“Shall I fetch you a cab?”
-
-The addressed started perceptibly. A porter quite unknown to himself
-or his ladies stood before him and held out his hand for the luggage,
-with a peculiar, knowing smile upon his features, then quickly piled
-them upon his back with skilful dexterity.
-
-“How do you know who I am?” asked the judge, somewhat irritated at this
-unexpected violation of his _incognito_.
-
-His unknown friend, however, had already turned upon his heel in search
-of a cab, and was now storing his burden upon the top.
-
-A glorious autumn morning was dawning over town, and the unknown
-splendour before them beckoned invitingly to our unsophisticated
-friends.
-
-“Look here, Karl,” began Helen, who had meanwhile conferred with
-Annchen as to their mutual wishes, “what do you say to going on foot
-to the hotel? As we are only to be here for so short a time, we should
-make the most of every moment, and seems to me, after last night’s
-journey, a walk would be much more refreshing to us than a ride in a
-close cab!”
-
-“Oh, yes!” cried Annchen, whose beaming eyes gazed upon the new world
-of wonders as a child might gaze upon fairyland.
-
-“All right, go a-head!” replied the judge, whom the air of the
-metropolis had suddenly changed into a jovial fellow. “I’ll run and buy
-a map of Berlin, and then join you!”
-
-He paid for the cab while the ladies were walking slowly a-head, and
-gave a fee to make sure that the charioteer would safely deposit the
-trunks at the hotel; but as he was turning back to the station to buy
-the map the cab-driver called out--
-
-“Thank you kindly, Herr Judge!”
-
-That good gentleman was perceptibly taken aback; he cast a suspicious
-glance behind him,--there stood the porter who had addressed him in
-like manner, and the two men were grinning diabolically.
-
-“Aha,” said the judge to himself, “that fellow noticed that his
-foolish speech vexed me, and now they are having a laugh at me in
-company. I suppose that’s Berlin humour, and it has got to be endured!”
-
-In possession of a Berlin town-map, which rivalled a moderate-sized
-bed-screen in size, the judge hastened to join his ladies, who had been
-caught by a shop window in the Friedrichstrasse as securely as flies
-caught in a fly-trap.
-
-“That’s right,” said the judge indulgently, “take your time looking at
-these things. Where you are as utterly unknown as we are here, there is
-no harm in looking at show-windows.”
-
-He thereupon gave the objects in the window a close inspection.
-
-“Well, Herr Schwarz, what is it that’s taking your fancy?” suddenly
-cried a shrill voice, and a shoemaker’s apprentice with undisguised
-mirth in his rogue’s visage slipped by him laughing.
-
-The judge was speechless.
-
-“This is getting worse and worse!” he exclaimed; “there’s something
-wrong here! Come, children, this is positively uncanny. This looks like
-the artful device of some scoundrel. Let us hurry up and go to the
-hotel. The next time any one calls me Herr Judge or Herr Schwarz, it
-will be the worse for him!”
-
-The sisters were growing nervous also.
-
-“Yes, yes,” assented Helen, “we’ll go to the hotel--it is very
-unpleasant here in the streets! I don’t understand how it is, Karl,”
-she added; “you must bear a striking resemblance to some popular town
-celebrity, whose name happens to be Schwarz into the bargain!”
-
-“And who happens to be a judge as well?” asked Karl sarcastically.
-“That’s very probable, my child! I have always said that no sooner do
-you set out to have a good time than immediately something occurs to
-frustrate your plans!”
-
-They had walked on, eagerly discussing the possible cause of this
-unusual occurrence, and suddenly they discovered that they had lost
-their bearings.
-
-“Where are we, anyway?” asked Annchen with a trembling voice. “I
-thought we were to be in Unter den Linden by this time?”
-
-“That is so, Karl,” added Helen; “you are taking us nobody knows where!
-These streets are not at all attractive, and I am tired out!”
-
-Karl forthwith produced his tremendous map of the town.
-
-“Wait one moment,” he said with dignity; “I’ll tell you immediately.”
-
-And he then and there unfolded the enormous sheet. A playful morning
-wind, however, mercilessly jerked it hither and thither, and there
-was nothing for it but to beg the ladies to stand on either side as
-banner-holders, and help him save it from destruction. But it took Karl
-longer than he thought to find his way about, and while he was still
-engaged in the effort, a tall, elegant-looking man walked down the
-street, and, with evident amusement, glanced at the conspicuous group,
-especially noting the charming person of little Annchen. The face of
-the stranger wore a pleasant, good-humoured expression, and, moreover,
-was so handsome and attractive that there was no perceptible reason
-why Annchen, raising her eyes at that moment, should suddenly blush
-to the roots of her hair, her hand at the same time trembling so that
-she could scarcely hold the map over which Karl and Helen were still
-chanting a woful duet in search of their hotel.
-
-The stranger, evidently struck by the appearance of the lovely,
-embarrassed girl, walked on slowly and then turned and came back. There
-was undisguised merriment and a half-controlled laugh upon his lips as
-he passed around behind Karl and before the fair banner-holders.
-
-“Good morning, Herr Judge Schwarz,” he said, taking his hat off low to
-the ladies, and turned to pass on his way.
-
-But he had reckoned without his host. In a paroxysm of rage the judge
-darted after him.
-
-“Sir, what does this mean? How do you know my name and title?” he
-cried, panting with indignation, while Helen vainly tried to appease
-him.
-
-Karl shook off her hand impatiently.
-
-“How can you have the effrontery to address me by my name?” he repeated
-in a tone of thunder.
-
-“My dear sir,” replied the stranger, laughing, “if your name is to be
-kept secret, allow me to call your attention to the fact that it would
-be the part of wisdom not to wear it plainly upon your back!”
-
-Karl gazed upon the stranger in speechless astonishment. Helen turned
-her husband dexterously around. Ah, here was the solution of the
-riddle! That benighted furrier had forgotten, in the press of business,
-to remove the slip of paper from the judge’s great-coat, by which that
-valuable garment had been distinguished from others entrusted to his
-keeping, and poor Karl had been walking about for an hour in Berlin
-with an enormous placard on his back bearing the inscription, “Herr
-Judge Schwarz!”
-
-While Helen and Anna were occupied in removing this enemy of the
-much-desired _incognito_ from the back of their liege lord and master,
-Annchen found time to whisper to her sister, “That was Kurt!”
-
-“Nonsense!” cried Helen in surprise, now giving Karl’s tormentor a
-scrutinising glance, while the latter was vainly endeavouring to pacify
-the enraged Karl--more likely, I regret to say, for the sake of the
-pretty damsel than for brotherly love. But Karl was obstinate, and
-would have nothing to do with forgiveness, and even the kind offer of
-the unknown to show him the way had no further effect than to extract a
-surly reply, “You may, for all I care!”
-
-[Illustration: “WALKING ABOUT FOR AN HOUR IN BERLIN WITH A PLACARD ON
-HIS BACK.”]
-
-“We want to go to the R---- Hotel,” added the judge reluctantly, “if
-you know where that is?”
-
-The stranger laughed again.
-
-“Oh yes, I know perfectly well,” he said; “it is not at all out of my
-way, if you will allow me to escort you there.”
-
-“No, thank you,” said Karl curtly; “just tell me the way to go. My bump
-of locality is very well developed, but in this confounded town there’s
-no finding one’s way about.”
-
-“Allow me to mention my name,” said the stranger after he had given
-brief directions as to the way, lifting his hat.
-
-“Don’t trouble yourself, thank you,” growled the judge; “it is not my
-habit to make acquaintances upon the street. Come along, children.”
-
-And after a brief and not very reassuring farewell to the young man, he
-gave an arm to each of his ladies, and drew them along after him.
-
-The stranger, thus brusquely dismissed, looked after the three
-departing figures for a moment, gave a low whistle, and went on his way
-still laughing.
-
-Meanwhile Helen, touched by the look of disappointment on her sister’s
-face, had smartly reproached her husband for showing so little
-politeness to the stranger.
-
-“I don’t understand you, Karl,” she said. “How could you be so rude to
-the young man? It was only too natural that, under the circumstances,
-he indulged in the harmless joke of addressing you!”
-
-“The impudence of it!” cried Karl in a rage.
-
-“In fact, you ought to be grateful to him,” Helen added boldly, “for
-without him and his explanation you would still be walking about with
-the slip on your back, like a book from the circulating library. The
-young fellow looked very nice!” Karl stood stock-still.
-
-“I’ll tell you what, children,” he said energetically, “now leave me in
-peace about your unknown friend! That’s the way all women are--that’s
-what a woman’s opinion is worth! Looked nice, did he? And such
-creatures are all for equality with men! If you are on the jury, and a
-convicted murderer has blue calf’s eyes, every one of you would acquit
-him! I’d have you to know that it is my firm conviction the man was a
-sharper!”
-
-“Shame on you, Karl!” cried Anna, her just ire getting the better of
-her shyness. Her hero a sharper,--this was too bad!
-
-Her brother-in-law gave her a penetrating look.
-
-“What business is it of yours, if I may be permitted to ask?”
-
-“Annchen has seen him at D----!” said Helen, endeavouring to hide her
-sister’s embarrassment.
-
-“What?” asked Karl suspiciously, “you know the fellow? What’s his name?”
-
-That, as we know, was a very inconvenient question. That the unknown
-was called Kurt would scarcely suffice to satisfy the judge by way of
-personal information, and that was all Annchen knew about him. So she
-was silent, and confined herself to blushing once more, which, however
-pretty it might look, could scarcely be regarded as a satisfactory
-explanation, at least not to this unsentimental brother-in-law and
-judge.
-
-“Aha!” said Karl, with a lordly air, “you are so well acquainted that
-you do not so much as know his name! Take my word for it, the man was a
-sharper--that is my firm opinion. Such fellows always look very elegant
-and well-bred. Not another word about him!”
-
-Meanwhile they had safely reached the hotel, and it was time to yield
-to the imperious need for rest and sleep. This, to be sure, was not
-indulged in for long, for excitement and the wish to enjoy Berlin to
-the full soon drove the pleasure-seekers out again.
-
-In the dining-room the question, “What now?” was discussed at length
-by the couple, while Annchen listened to everything that was proposed
-with unmistakable indifference. To her Berlin had grown to be nothing
-but an enormous frame to hold the likeness of the adorable, who had
-crossed her path once more this morning in so surprising a fashion,
-and, alas! seemed utterly unconscious of the fact that he had ever seen
-her before.
-
-The unknown, whom we will herewith introduce to our readers as Dr.
-Rüdiger, had meanwhile also reached the R---- Hotel, at which he too,
-as good luck would have it, had put up.
-
-Himself unnoticed, he observed how the judge and his ladies, after a
-short parley with the _portier_, left the hotel, and no sooner had they
-turned the next corner than he too approached that personage.
-
-“Has Herr Judge Schwarz gone out already?” he asked nonchalantly.
-
-“Yes, sir, Herr Schwarz and the ladies have just gone,” replied the
-_portier_, who in his person united the dignity of a Spanish grandee
-with eely suavity.
-
-“That’s too bad!” remarked the wily Rüdiger. “We were going to make an
-engagement for this evening!”
-
-“Herr Schwarz ordered tickets to the opera for to-morrow night,” said
-the _portier_.
-
-“Ah! that’s capital,” replied Rüdiger. “You may procure a ticket for me
-in the same box; I will come and ask you for it.”
-
-He walked away cheerfully, and patiently did the principal sights of
-Berlin, in the secret hope that fortune would favour him and bring
-about a meeting between him and the Schwarz family. But for the present
-this hope came to naught.
-
-Meanwhile our party had set out on their trip of pleasure. First they
-had devoted themselves to show-windows, and with many an admiring
-ejaculation had come to the conclusion that Berlin was the only place
-worth sojourning in. Then they pantingly followed two closed Imperial
-carriages, and endeavoured to make each other believe that they had
-caught a sight of the persons within. Finally, after the museum had
-been hurried through with profound awe and moderate comprehension, they
-all experienced decided pangs of hunger, and, with the intention of
-dining cosily together, they entered a superb restaurant on the ground
-floor.
-
-The judge escorted his ladies to an inviting little table near one of
-the windows, from where one had a fine view of the streets and the busy
-crowds--not, to be sure, with the additional advantage mentioned in the
-well-known song--
-
-    “Across the lands we gaze, oh!
-    While we are all unseen----,”
-
-for every glass of wine and every forkful of meat could be closely
-scrutinised by the passers-by.
-
-But the pleasing knowledge of being quite unknown comforted the judge
-for this drawback of his position.
-
-The waiter’s question as to what they wished to have for dinner might
-have appeared as an insult to the judge in his exceeding love of
-secrecy; being, however, very hungry he generously forgave him, and the
-three together assiduously studied the _menu_, which sported a variety
-of names which might have been made to stand for almost _anything_, so
-that whatever one ordered there was always a pleasant surprise in view.
-
-Soon a bottle with a promising silvery cork stood upon the table in a
-dainty cooler, and the judge was just raising his glass to drink the
-ladies’ health: “Children,” he said, “I can’t tell you how delightful
-this is, to feel that one is sitting here free of all good friends and
-neighbours. Here’s to our _incognito_!”
-
-There was a playful tap at the window. Karl, poor fellow, started as
-if he had beheld a ghost--indeed I know not but a ghost even would have
-been a more welcome sight at that particular moment than the smiling
-face of Herr Lebermann, who, with the unmistakable consciousness of
-giving the judge and his family a great and unexpected pleasure,
-pressed his nose flat against the window-pane.
-
-[Illustration: “THE SMILING FACE OF HERR LEBERMANN.”]
-
-The judge dropped his fork. “For heaven’s sake--Lebermann!” he
-stammered with difficulty.
-
-A further critical remark was suppressed, for the good Lebermann, with
-a happy smile upon his face, stood before our pleasure-seekers.
-
-“Well now, you’d never have supposed you’d find me here, would you?” he
-asked, full of rapture.
-
-“No--that is the last thing I should have thought of,” replied Karl
-mildly. “What brought you here?”
-
-“I’ll tell you all about it in a minute,” replied Herr Lebermann,
-having given a chivalrous greeting to the ladies and proved himself
-thoroughly well-informed by looking at Annchen with the words, “Ah,
-this, I suppose, is your visitor that came the other night!”
-
-He drew a chair up to the table and ordered a beef-steak.
-
-The judge looked about him wildly, and was apparently so greatly in
-danger of indulging in unwary remarks, that Helen, to avert the storm,
-imprudently reminded the apothecary of his promised narrative.
-
-“Well, you see,” began the interesting arrival, “I noticed some time
-ago that there was something wrong with my molar tooth--the third in
-the upper row,” he added, to expel every doubt. “I believe I mentioned
-it to you once, Herr Judge?”
-
-“It’s quite possible!” sighed Karl brokenly.
-
-“Yes, yes, I remember it quite well! We were sitting at König’s in the
-restaurant--it is not very long ago! Well, never mind! So, then, the
-day before yesterday, in the afternoon, that tooth began to hurt me.”
-
-“Too bad!” said Helen pitifully, feeling it incumbent upon her to say
-something polite.
-
-“It wasn’t very bad,” said Herr Lebermann consolingly, “but still I
-felt it, you know! Yesterday, in the morning, the head-man had left
-open the back-door to the shop, and then there is always a draught;
-you have no idea how it blows. Time and time again I have said to him:
-‘Herr Semmler,’ says I, ‘don’t leave that back-door unlatched,’ but he
-can’t get over the habit! You will say, you wouldn’t be put upon!”
-
-He looked at his victims expectantly.
-
-“I don’t say any such thing!” growled Karl, his soul burning within
-him. “Hurry up, children--we must be going!”
-
-“I shall be through in a minute,” said Herr Lebermann. “Where did
-I stop? Ah yes, I know! That miserable Semmler. When I tell him
-courteously it has no effect, and I don’t like to be curt to him,
-for he is a decent enough fellow, and it’s hard to find such another
-nowadays. He is quite to be depended upon. He has a little property
-too----”
-
-“Yes, but Herr Lebermann,” interrupted Helen, who already saw her
-husband in spirit rush at him with a knife, “you were going to tell us
-what brought you to Berlin!”
-
-Herr Lebermann cut up his beef-steak with much deliberation.
-
-“I was just about to tell you,” he said with a courteous bow to Helen.
-“Well, you see, last night the door was left open again. I was somewhat
-heated. I had on a heavy over-coat,--perhaps I had walked faster than
-usual,--I shouldn’t at all wonder if I had!--I entered the shop--and
-there was a tremendous draught! You really have no idea how bad it
-was--and at that very moment my tooth was at it again! I was quite
-beside myself, went upstairs to talk to my wife. It is really very
-convenient to have our lodgings in the same house now. ‘Clara!’ says I,
-‘my tooth!’ ‘The one that was stopped?’ says she. ‘Yes,’ says I. Do you
-know my Clara, Frau Schwarz?”
-
-Helen gave an affirmative nod--she felt her eyelids growing heavy.
-Karl nervously drummed on the table, and Annchen was the only one who
-was not bored, for she was looking out upon the street in feverish
-excitement, hoping to catch a glimpse of her unknown hero, and hearing
-never a word that was spoken about her.
-
-“Well,” continued Lebermann, “my wife, resolute as she is, said
-‘Lebermann’--she always calls me Lebermann now, since our youngest is
-not called Fatty any more, but Robert, and you know my name is Robert
-too, and there was everlasting confusion--Robert--Robert--there was no
-knowing which Robert was meant. Well, to make a long story short, she
-said, ‘Lebermann,’ says she, ‘this is a serious matter. You’d best go
-to the right man at once!’ No sooner said than done. I went and got a
-round-trip ticket--took the cars--came here--went to the dentist the
-first thing this morning--and now I’m free of all that, and I have
-had the rare good fortune of meeting you! This is delightful--really
-delightful!”
-
-“So it is,” said Karl, who was on the utmost verge of human endurance.
-“And now we must be going! Good-day to you, Herr Lebermann!”
-
-“Where do you put up?” asked the apothecary.
-
-“Nowhere as yet,” lied Karl, with a bold brow, appeasing his conscience
-with the thought that they had not yet spent a night at the hotel.
-“Waiter--what’s to pay?”
-
-“And where shall we meet again?” asked this kind neighbour, who seemed
-fully determined to dog the steps of his countrymen like a fearful
-nightly apparition.
-
-“Well, that’s the last thing--I mean to say we haven’t any definite
-plans as yet,” said Karl, taking his hat from the hook, while the
-ladies, much cast down by the turn their happily-begun travels had
-taken, were also getting ready to go.
-
-Annchen was struggling with her mantelet, when suddenly she heard a
-very engaging voice behind her: “Permit me to be of assistance,” and
-Dr. Rüdiger stood before the group with the happiest face in the world.
-
-As far as the judge’s expression at that particular moment was
-concerned, it is only to be regretted that there was no photographer on
-the spot. He gave the uncalled helper a crushing look, offered his arm
-to his wife, beckoned Annchen to his side, and without a word, bowed
-coldly to Lebermann and left the restaurant.
-
-This was really too bad! After several hours’ chase Rüdiger had at last
-succeeded in finding his lovely heroine once more, and at that very
-moment she was taken from him again. The only straw of refuge for him
-to cling to was Herr Lebermann, whom he had found in the company of the
-Schwarz family, and who might therefore be expected to give him some
-information.
-
-“The judge was in a great hurry,” he said, turning with an assumed air
-of placidity to the apothecary, who at once made room for the new-comer
-at his table.
-
-“Yes, that’s just like my friend Schwarz,” he said deliberately, “he’s
-always excited--always on the go. I’m not at all like him. I am much
-more quiet, and that’s the very reason we get on so famously! My wife
-always says: ‘Lebermann,’--my name is Lebermann, Apothecary Lebermann,
-from Solau----”
-
-“Dr. Rüdiger!” remarked his new friend with a bow.
-
-“Happy to meet you! Well, my wife says: ‘Lebermann, you are the most
-imperturbable man I ever saw.’ So you know my friend Schwarz, Dr.
-Rüdiger? Ah, by the way, I did not understand exactly whether he has
-found a hotel--do you know where he is staying?”
-
-“At the R---- Hotel,” replied Rüdiger innocently, thereby doing the
-worst service he could to the family to which he wished to make himself
-agreeable.
-
-“Ah, I am glad to hear it; I shall go and order a room immediately,”
-said Lebermann joyously; “he will be so pleased, I know.”
-
-The judge and his ladies had taken up their wanderings again not in
-the best of spirits. The fact that the world is round had never
-struck them as so vexatious as now, when, in consequence of this dire
-roundness, Herr Lebermann was always rolling towards them.
-
-“What with this bad luck we are having,” remarked the judge bitterly,
-“it’s quite likely the fellow will cross our path again. After to-day’s
-experience I am confident I could climb up on Mount Vesuvius to escape
-from men, and when I reach the top the volcano would be sure to spit
-out Lebermann. Hello! where are we now?” he added discontentedly. “We
-are always losing our way in this wretched town. In this respect really
-I prefer Solau!”
-
-He disappeared once more behind his large map and began to search
-diligently for his hotel, or rather for the street that it was in.
-
-A small street urchin, with a bright, saucy face, at this moment
-came singing and skipping along the side-walk. At sight of the
-deeply-absorbed family an expression of unalloyed bliss passed over
-his face, and with the exclamation, “Who lives behind there?” he put
-his finger straight through the map; thereupon he took flight with
-a perfect shriek of laughter ere the judge had recovered from his
-consternation sufficiently to take up the chase with any hope of
-success.
-
-Helen and Annchen looked at their protector with some misgivings, in
-the uneasy expectation of seeing him beside himself with ire; but,
-lo and behold, he was quite the contrary! Herr Schwarz, who had been
-steadily regarding the injured map, strangely enough looked very well
-pleased, and taking a deep breath he said, “This _is_ a good thing,
-now--if the lad hasn’t punched a hole in the spot I have always had
-such a deal of trouble to find. This really simplifies matters greatly.”
-
-  _Hans Arnold._
-
-
-
-
-_THE INNER LIFE OF THE SECOND-CLASS CAB-DRIVER._
-
-
-“A WRITER who would describe things that he has not seen with his
-own eyes is a feeble rhapsodist; his characters are unreal, and his
-productions will never touch the hearts of his readers!” Amen! My
-friend Otto put his glass down on the table with such vehemence that
-the red wine in it spattered on the table-cloth. I am very shy by
-nature; people who talk loud and set down their glass energetically,
-looking at me at the same time, as much as to say, “Any objections?”
-always awe me. That is the reason my friend Otto awed me. We sat
-opposite at the table in the Italian wine-room; while he was speaking
-he looked firmly at me; there was no doubt of it, he counted me in with
-these blameworthy authors. Our other friends who sat at table with us
-gazed at me in silence; it was evident that I was expected to say a
-weighty word in self-defence. I myself felt it incumbent upon me,--but
-unfortunately nothing appropriate occurred to me. After a lengthy pause
-I mildly remarked, “Quite true, one should dip down into the fulness
-of human life.” My friend Otto laughed scornfully into his glass, our
-friends gave me a look of pity--I had undoubtedly made a fool of myself.
-
-At the same time, the words of my friend Otto would never have made
-such an impression upon me if my conscience had not troubled me. A
-plan was ripening within me for a great social novel, delineating the
-life of the lower classes in Berlin. Realism--that was my programme.
-In spirit I saw my likeness in all the illustrated papers; behind my
-name I read, “The German Zola,” in a parenthesis. I had not yet fully
-decided upon the contents of the novel; but so much was sure, the hero
-should be a second-class cab-driver,--if that didn’t take, I didn’t
-know what would.
-
-[Illustration: “KEPT ME WAITING AT THE DOOR WHILE HE WAS AMUSING
-HIMSELF WITH HIS ADORED.”]
-
-As I was walking home, I was tortured with tormenting doubts called
-forth by the words of my friend. “So you would delineate a second-class
-cab-driver?” I said to myself. “What do you know about a second-class
-cab-driver? That in summer he wears a coat trimmed with galloons, and
-a cocked hat, and in winter a mantle, high boots lined with straw,
-and a fur cap--everybody knows that. But have you ever listened to
-the conversation with which at the stopping-places he makes time pass
-for himself and his colleagues? Have you ever followed him into the
-gin-shops where he refreshes himself with a glass of half-and-half and
-a sandwich? Do you know aught about his likes and dislikes? Or of the
-mutual relation between him and his horse? In a word, have you any
-knowledge of the inner life of a second-class cab-driver? Be honest
-with yourself, you have none; and here you are going to write a social
-novel about him! Well I never!” The last word I said half-audibly to
-myself while I was opening the street-door in a very ill humour.
-
-I did not sleep well that night. I was perpetually pondering over the
-inner life of the second-class cab-driver.
-
-When I arose, sighing, the next morning, I perceived that I should
-accomplish nothing by going on in this way, and I resolved to devote
-myself to practical studies. Armed with my note-book, I stepped out
-into the street.
-
-It was a glorious spring morning, but I was indifferent to the fact;
-my eyes were riveted upon second-class cabs and their charioteers. At
-the next corner there was a stopping-place for six such; my heart beat
-faster as I beheld them. Heretofore these fellows had appeared to me
-in the light of ordinary mortals; now it struck me that there was a
-sly smile upon their faces, as if they were conscious of the fact of
-possessing something which they would take care not to divulge--the
-inner life of the second-class cab-driver.
-
-I jumped into the foremost cab; it was open, and sported cushions of
-red plush. The driver sat nodding upon the box, and for the present his
-inner life was hidden by the sound of a tremendous snoring.
-
-“Thou shalt be my hero!” spoke a voice within me. After some fruitless
-efforts, I at last succeeded in waking him. I named some street
-at random, where he was to take me, and resolved to enter into
-conversation with him.
-
-“Been on many trips to-day?” I asked in a winning voice, while he was
-putting his horse in motion. He did not seem to hear me, at least he
-paid no attention to my remark.
-
-“Been on many trips to-day?” I repeated, still more pleasantly.
-
-He turned his head about. “You’re right there,” he said. “It’s a double
-trip.”
-
-I was taken back by this unexpected result of my speech. “Double trip?”
-I asked.
-
-“Well, don’t you believe it?” he asked indignantly. I was vexed that I
-had unwisely entered upon a double trip, and subsided.
-
-“Pronounced faculty for justice,” I put down in my note-book, “which
-occasionally amounts to unbending doggedness.” As the note seemed too
-scant, I added, “Brusque and uncommunicative.”
-
-We had reached a part of the town which offered no possible attractions
-to me; so there was nothing for it but to drive back again. I jumped
-into the first cab I saw, and as I was just about to open conversation
-with the driver I perceived that it was a first-class cab. What was a
-first-class cab-driver to me? Besides, it cost me a shilling. I was
-terribly vexed with myself.
-
-I now resolved to be more cautious in my choice of cabs. Long I
-strolled about the streets, keeping an eye on all the stopping-places I
-passed, until at last I beheld a young second-class cab-driver, who,
-as soon as he saw my gaze fixed upon him, leaped with jerky haste upon
-his box.
-
-“At last,” I said to myself while getting in, “this is a genuine
-wide-awake Berlin cab-driver, such as I want.”
-
-I tested his conversational powers with two or three casual remarks--my
-efforts were crowned with success. I told him to drive to the
-Thiergarten, as the most favourable place to listen undisturbed to his
-communications.
-
-As we Were jolting along the streets I silently gazed at my charioteer,
-who was enthroned with more audacity than grace side-wise upon his box,
-so that I could see his profile; I noticed certain dark shadows in his
-face, which looked as if he had inadvertently come into close contact
-with a boot-brush.
-
-As soon as we had reached the shady precincts of the Thiergarten the
-sluices of his eloquence were opened, and indeed this worthy youth
-repaid me for all that I had heretofore missed.
-
-“How is business going on?” I asked.
-
-“Well, it’s only just going so-so,” he replied, “but up to last week it
-was going fine; we’ve had the whole town to sweep.”
-
-“Sweep?” I asked, somewhat puzzled.
-
-“Well yes, you see,” he said, “that’s because all winter folks had to
-sit at home and have a fire, and now, you see, it’s warm again----”
-
-“Aha,--I understand,” I interrupted; a rare point this for my
-note-book: “The second-class cab-driver manifests a surprising aptitude
-for simile; when the awaking spring-time entices men to leave their
-dark houses and entrust themselves to his vehicle, he expresses this by
-saying that he has swept the whole town.”
-
-In the joy of my heart I offered him a cigar; he did not decline, at
-the same time remarking that he preferred snuff to tobacco, which, as
-he said, was better adapted to his calling.
-
-Again I opened my note-book: “The second-class cab-driver does not
-disdain tobacco, preferring however to indulge in snuff.”
-
-“You see,” I said, after having secured this important fact in writing
-for all future times, “how it is always well to open one’s eyes to
-learn new things; up to this day I have never seen a cab-driver use
-snuff.”
-
-“Oh, as for them fellows----,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders,
-“why should they snuff? I was talking about our business.”
-
-“How so?” I stammered, with a puzzled look. He leaned down to me. “I’m
-only taking this cab out to-day, because my father don’t feel just
-right; the old hurdle belongs to him.”
-
-The trees in the Thiergarten began to dance before my very eyes.
-
-“What is your calling?” I shrieked in mortal agony. With a smile he
-looked down upon me: “I’m a chimney-sweep,” he said.
-
-“Stop!” I called out to him in a voice of thunder; “I want to get out
-here!”
-
-That afternoon I returned to my rooms with a bowed head; I had
-the feeling that everybody must know I had been out riding with a
-chimney-sweep.
-
-As I entered the house I noticed that there was a gateway beside
-the street-door bearing the inscription: “Cabs and carriages by the
-hour.” I had only lived in that particular house for a few days, and
-so had paid no attention to this before. Now, as my eyes were resting
-thoughtfully upon this sign, I made the observation that it is in hours
-of deep contrition that the soul of man ripens to grand purposes; for
-a thought arose within me, the boldness of which almost made me grow
-dizzy.
-
-In my unhappy experience with the chimney-sweep I had seen that one can
-be a cab-driver on time,--how would it be if for twenty-four hours I
-myself were to fill such a post?
-
-I seized my hat, so that the sacred fire of my first decision should
-not be cooled off by pedantic considerations, entered the yard below,
-and the office of the cab-owner.
-
-At first he was little inclined to favour my plan; then gradually it
-dawned upon him that I should certainly be a very cheap cab-driver,
-who would cost him nothing, and moreover put thirty shillings into
-his pocket, a sum which I then and there counted upon the table. He
-began to treat me with a certain air of gentle indulgence, such as one
-bestows upon a person who is not fully in his right mind, and whom
-it is best not to irritate. One favourable circumstance was that he
-had just had a new coat and a new pair of trousers made for one of
-his drivers; provided these garments fitted me, I should put them on
-to-morrow. As far as the hat was concerned, he would let me take the
-one belonging to Gustav, the driver whose place I was to take.
-
-“So then,--to-morrow morning at five o’clock,” he said, “right here in
-the yard!”
-
-“I shall be here to-morrow morning at five o’clock,” I replied with
-an easy air, as if it were a daily habit of mine to get up at five. I
-was turning to go, when he called after me, “But you must leave your
-eye-glasses at home!” and he pointed to my nose; “that will never do
-for a cab-driver!”
-
-“You are right,” I rejoined; “I shall get me a pair of steel
-spectacles.”
-
-With that I left him, and partook myself to a masquerade-shop, where I
-procured a large beard to cover the lower part of my face, and a wig;
-beside my original object of disguising myself as far as possible,
-the thought of Gustav’s cocked hat made a special head-gear seem
-desirable. Beard and wig were sprinkled with grey, and must needs give
-me an air of homely dignity. In the shop of an optician I completed
-my outfit, looking through his entire stock of clumsy, old-fashioned
-spectacles. I could not find the desired steel spectacles, but there
-was a pair of horn ones with enormous circular glasses, by means of
-which my face gained an owl-like expression. That was what I wanted.
-Putting my treasures in my pocket, I stepped out upon the street, very
-well satisfied with myself. The energetic way in which I had seized
-upon this great enterprise pleased me; all my arrangements struck me
-as being exceedingly practical; I had a happy presentiment as to the
-success of my undertaking; this success I involuntarily carried into
-my thoughts of the novel that was to be, and I began to conjecture
-what remuneration I should demand. “I can’t let you have it cheap,
-gentlemen,” I said half-audibly with a triumphant smile, as I opened
-the door of the wine-room where I expected to meet my friends.
-
-To evade every possibility of being recognised by them, I meant to tell
-them that I should be going out of town to-morrow.
-
-This part of my programme also ran off smoothly. My friend Otto and all
-my other friends were present, and while my heart was leaping within me
-for proud joy over my new-discovered talent for adventure, I unfolded
-my fictitious plan of travel as coolly as possible.
-
-The only person who seemed to be interested was my friend Otto.
-
-“Going out of town?” he said. “Is it certain?”
-
-“Quite certain,” I replied; “I shall be leaving to-morrow morning.”
-
-“Where to?”
-
-“Humph--a short trip to the country--to visit some relatives.”
-
-“For how long?” he queried further.
-
-“That depends; two or three days at the most.” It was really strange
-that he should be so inquisitive--and withal there was a peculiar look
-in his eyes. “He can’t know?” I asked myself involuntarily, but I did
-not complete my sentence. “That is all nonsense,” I said to myself;
-“he doesn’t even know anything about the novel--how could he guess
-anything?” Indeed, he seemed quite satisfied at last, and when I had
-left them all I walked home with the consciousness that things were
-going finely.
-
-“Are you the gentleman?” asked a deep, grumbling voice, when in the
-grey dawn of morning I entered the yard next morning.
-
-Without breakfast, for I had not wished to betray myself to my
-landlady, with a false beard on my face and a wig on my head, and an
-enormous pair of horn spectacles on my nose--my feelings can readily
-be imagined. And with all that I felt it incumbent upon me to feign a
-cheerful manner to keep Gustav--for I judged him to be the possessor of
-the bass voice--in good spirits.
-
-“The weather will be gorgeous to-day,” I said, apparently in the best
-of humour, while my teeth were chattering with cold. Gustav grunted
-like a bear disturbed in his winter’s sleep.
-
-“Can I put on the things?” I asked.
-
-Gustav pointed to the office. “In there,” he said; “I’ll be hitching up
-while you’re about it.”
-
-Soon after I came forth attired as a cab-driver.
-
-In the middle of the yard stood the cab with a horse before it, which
-in the light of early dawn looked like some antediluvian animal. Gustav
-was occupied with the harness, and seemed disinclined to take notice of
-me.
-
-“Here we are,” I said in a tone of assumed gaiety, which was not at
-all in keeping with my inmost mood. I seemed unspeakably ridiculous to
-myself.
-
-Gustav looked at me askance, and made some inarticulate ejaculation.
-His conduct was not particularly encouraging. Upon the box I saw some
-sort of a receptacle with an open top.
-
-“Aha,” I said, stepping up to it, “I presume this is the fodder-chest?”
-
-Gustav looked at the receptacle and then at me. “That there?” he said;
-“sure, that’s my hat.”
-
-“Ah, so----” I stammered in embarrassment; “your hat? Permit me.”
-
-It was with strange feelings that I took the hat from the box and held
-it in my hand.
-
-“Number twelve thirty-two,” said Gustav laconically.
-
-“Twelve thirty-two,” I repeated. It was the first time in my life that
-I felt I had a number.
-
-“At noon you have to feed him the first time,” Gustav informed me.
-
-“Feed whom?” I asked involuntarily; my thoughts were occupied with the
-hat, and I thought that was what he was referring to.
-
-Gustav seemed to consider it beneath him to answer my insipid question.
-
-“Between four and five,” he continued, “he gets his fodder again; do
-you know how to go to work to feed a horse?”
-
-He held the nose-bag in his hands and looked at me as if he had strong
-doubts as to my efficiency.
-
-“I have sometimes seen it done at the stopping-places,” I replied
-dejectedly, “but we might as well make a trial.”
-
-“Well, then, go ahead,” he said, handing the receptacle to me.
-
-It was with some difficulty that I got the strap which held the bag
-adjusted around the horse’s neck; Gustav stood behind me with a
-critical air.
-
-“That ain’t right,” he said; “take the bit out first.”
-
-He now showed me how to take the bit out of the horse’s mouth, and then
-made me do it.
-
-The horse put his nose in the bag, and when he observed that there was
-nothing in it, he shook his ears, as much as to say, “I don’t think
-much of such practical jokes!” The horse seemed to share his master’s
-opinion of me, for Gustav was anything but satisfied, as his grunting
-tones proved.
-
-“Well now, go ahead!” he said at last, scanning me once more from head
-to foot. From under the seat he produced a dark bundle, which upon
-being unfolded proved to be his mantle; he thereupon proceeded to put
-it around my shoulders.
-
-“Bless us! This is heavy,” I said, groaning under the burden.
-
-As I seized the lines Gustav imparted his final instructions. “Here is
-the check,” he said, putting a piece of metal with the number of my cab
-into my hand; “now drive to the Schlesische Bahnhof and wait there;
-maybe you’ll get a job when the early train comes in. Give the check to
-the policeman; do you understand?”
-
-“Yes, yes,” I said; “I have often arrived by that station myself.”
-
-“And then when you’re ready to start give him a good whack with your
-whip,” he continued.
-
-“Whom?” I was about to ask once more, for I thought he was still
-talking of the policeman, but fortunately I suppressed my dulness.
-
-“For when he has been standing awhile,” explained Gustav, “the nag gets
-awfully lazy and his bones get stiff; but when he’s going he does very
-well, and then all you have to do is to let him jog along.”
-
-“Very well,” I said, seizing the whip, which he handed to me; “I’ll do
-precisely as you say.”
-
-Gustav opened the gateway preparatory to setting out. I jerked the
-reins and called out--“Go along!”
-
-The steed in my cab, however, did not pay the least attention to my
-manipulations; so far as I could see, he had fallen asleep again.
-
-I now began to belabour his back with the whip; even that was but half
-successful; he gave a little shrug of disdain, and stood still as if
-fastened to the ground.
-
-“You must hit around further to the front!” cried Gustav from the gate;
-“he don’t feel anything on his back any more!”
-
-So I whipped him on the neck, but, lo and behold, he did not seem to
-approve of such treatment. He threw his head back, shook his ears as
-much as to say, “Have the goodness to desist from such foolishness!”
-And when I paid no attention to his objections, he suddenly lifted his
-hinder part and “thump” went his hoofs against the cab, making me shake
-and tremble upon my box.
-
-Now Gustav came walking up to me slowly.
-
-“Give it to me,” he said, taking the whip out of my hand; “I’ll have a
-talk with him.”
-
-The way Gustav “talked to him” seemed to make a decided impression upon
-the steed, for before I knew it he started in a canter, so that I was
-obliged to seize the reins convulsively in both hands.
-
-“My hat,” I shrieked, for I felt that the cocked hat was parting
-company with my head in a graceful curve. It was not until I was out on
-the street that I succeeded in quieting the excited nag.
-
-“Dear me, this--is--a--malicious beast!” I called out breathless to
-Gustav, who was running after us with the hat and whip.
-
-“He’s only a bit ticklish,” he replied consolingly.
-
-I replaced the cocked hat upon the spot assigned to it. Gustav turned
-to go.
-
-I passed along the quiet streets with my vehicle on the way to the
-Schlesische Bahnhof. I now had time to examine my steed more closely.
-He was white, with a tinge of yellow, corresponding to the colour a
-white beard assumes if its owner frequently moistens it with beer.
-
-[Illustration: “THE WAY GUSTAV ‘TALKED TO HIM’ SEEMED TO MAKE A DECIDED
-IMPRESSION UPON THE STEED.”]
-
-So we reached the Schlesische Bahnhof, where I joined the row of
-waiting cabs.
-
-I had now reached my first station, and I sat upon my box with
-attentive ears, so that no word of the conversation of my new
-colleagues should escape me.
-
-For the present there was little hope of accomplishing my purpose,
-for the only thing I heard was a grand snoring-chorus--the assembled
-drivers were making up for their interrupted morning’s sleep.
-
-I tried to reason myself into the belief that the situation was very
-original and interesting, but the thought of my orphaned bed at home,
-and its discarded warmth and softness, would not be banished, and all
-at once the consciousness that I was cold and hungry and bored beyond
-endurance was borne in upon me with unrelenting sternness.
-
-A vender of small sausages appeared upon the scene, and, although under
-ordinary circumstances the possibility of horse-meat would have caused
-me to abstain, I hastily came down from my box and purchased a pair of
-his charges.
-
-“Can you give me some paper,” I said, “to wrap them up in?”
-
-The sausage-man looked at me in surprise. “Bless my buttons,” he
-said,--“paper?”
-
-I perceived that I was betraying myself. So I turned quickly away,
-and seeing the policeman at that moment, I handed him my check. Then
-I scrambled up on the box once more, and devoured the sausages. I
-thereupon moved into a corner of the box, wrapped myself up close in my
-mantle, and fell asleep. A tremendous uproar awoke me. The train had
-arrived; the cabs from the right and left were set in rattling motion;
-in the portico stood a man bellowing, “One thousand two hundred and
-thirty-two,” at the top of his voice. He seemed to have been occupied
-in this way for some time, for his face was purple with the exertion.
-
-“Very good,” I said, smiling to myself; “there is a passenger who can’t
-find his cab; probably it will come to an altercation between him and
-the driver, and some of the most characteristic of Berlin phrases and
-expressions will come to light. Novelist, prick up your ears; don’t
-let anything escape you.”
-
-[Illustration: “IN THE PORTICO STOOD A MAN BELLOWING, ‘ONE THOUSAND TWO
-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-TWO!’”]
-
-“One thousand two hundred and thirty-two!” called out the man once
-more. I looked at him closely; he seemed to be a travelling merchant; a
-medley of trunks, bandboxes, and travelling-bags were lying about him
-on the ground.
-
-I looked about me smiling. “One thousand two hundred and thirty-two
-seems to be sleeping as sweetly as need be,” I said to myself.
-
-At that moment a voice struck my ear: “Twelve thirty-two--what’s the
-matter, old noodle-head? Are you sitting on your ears?”
-
-Quick as a flash I turned around. One of the small boys that hang
-around stations to help passengers find their cabs had pulled open the
-door of my cab.
-
-My stars! It occurred to me then that I myself was number one thousand
-two hundred and thirty-two.
-
-Before I had time to reprove the impudent lad, the passenger, who was
-quite blue in the face, began to fly at me.
-
-“Look ye here,” he cried in a loud voice, “it’s likely you left your
-ears at home! Here I’ve been standing an hour injuring my lungs by
-yelling out your confounded number!”
-
-I was trembling with rage. “Sir,” I said, inclining my head to him from
-my box, “I must politely request you to address me in a more befitting
-manner!”
-
-“I don’t want any of your impudence,” bellowed the azure-hued merchant.
-“It’s your business to prick up your ears, that’s all; and if you don’t
-do it, I’ll ask you to accompany me to the police-station!”
-
-My blood was boiling with indignation, and, what was worse, I dared not
-reply, for fear my language would betray me.
-
-“Boys, fetch my things!” the merchant called out to the lads who were
-clustering about, and all the trunks, handbags, and bandboxes were set
-in motion.
-
-Meanwhile my colleagues--as many of them as had not driven
-away--gathered about us, and I now heard my fill of the peculiarities
-of the Berlin vernacular that I had previously longed for.
-
-“Better put your spectacles on your ears, so you’ll hear better,” cried
-one.
-
-I tried to keep silent--but could I let such a brutal speech pass
-unchallenged? “It is very bad taste,” I replied with dignity, “to
-reproach a person for physical infirmities; if my near-sightedness
-enjoins the necessity of wearing spectacles----”
-
-“Don’t lose your breath, cabby,” cried a second, and a general laugh
-interrupted my speech.
-
-“Cabby sees with his ears and hears with his eyes,” shrieked one of
-the wretched boys. There was a laugh again; I was perspiring with
-indignation.
-
-“Take that up on the box,” cried my passenger in an insolent tone,
-thumping a heavy brass-nailed trunk down on my feet.
-
-I was about to recommend greater caution when he handed me a couple of
-curtain-poles wrapped in paper and tied together with a cord.
-
-“Take that too,” he commanded, “and see that it doesn’t slip down.”
-
-So it was a provincial upholsterer who was treating me thus! In spite
-of that, there was nothing for it but to obey his orders. I set the
-curtain-poles up on end and put my left arm around them.
-
-Now there was an uproar among the boys once more. “Cabby, hold the
-crow-bars tight!” cried one. “Cabby with the crow-bars!” yelled the
-boys, shrieking, bellowing, and whistling in a diabolical chorus.
-
-“To the tavern ‘Green Tree’ in the Klosterstrasse!” cried the
-overbearing voice of the upholsterer. He got into the cab, and shut the
-door with a bang.
-
-I seized the reins, the nag stood still, as if it were none of his
-concern.
-
-“Go along with ye, you wretched beast! Hello there! Skip along!” I
-muttered between my teeth; the abominable quadruped persisted in
-stubborn indifference. I brought the whip down upon him “toward the
-front,” as Gustav had advised me, and, sure enough, suddenly the cab
-quivered, struck with the hoofs of the balking steed.
-
-An infernal concert of wild jubilations arose about me. I sat upon my
-box in a state of wretched helplessness, and, to make matters worse,
-the travelling merchant put his head out of the cab.
-
-“How long is it going to take you to get started?” he called out,
-following up his words with a perfect volley of oaths. “Did anybody
-ever see the like of this?”
-
-One of my colleagues of the box was moved with brotherly pity, seized
-the malicious steed by the head, and put him in motion.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-The other drivers sat on their boxes taking a nap, and there was no
-opportunity of entering into conversation with them. I was very much
-depressed, took off my mantle, for it was growing warm, climbed up into
-my seat, and drove away to try my luck elsewhere.
-
-As we were jolting slowly across the Schlossplatz, there came straight
-across the square from the red Schloss a figure, the sight of which
-made my blood run cold--it was my friend Otto.
-
-Supposing he should recognise me,--I dared not think the thought, I
-felt myself blush and then turn pale under my beard. I turned my head
-to the other side, toward the Schloss, but as I involuntarily looked
-at him askance, it seemed to me that he was standing still. In fact so
-he was,--he stood there beckoning to me! I was seized with horror!
-“Beckon away as hard as you please,” I said to myself, driving on. Now
-I heard his voice: “Hello there, cabman!” I pretended not to hear, and
-still drove on.
-
-Then he came rushing with tremendous strides across the square.
-
-“Confound you!” he cried. “Don’t you hear me?”
-
-There was no further possibility of escape; I must needs pull up.
-
-Like a criminal over whom sentence of death has just been passed, I
-hung my head; with the corner of my left eye I saw that my friend Otto
-had on his best suit, and was carrying his summer overcoat over his arm.
-
-“Kanonierstrasse No.----,” he said, jumping airily into the cab. I
-started involuntarily. What did he want to go to the Kanonierstrasse
-for? I knew that he did not live there--none of our boon companions
-lived there, I knew that also,--but some one dwelt within that house
-whom I knew very well, and that was Emma, my friend of the ballet, my
-Emma! That Emma was true, true as gold, I knew, thank Heaven! At the
-same time a vague unrest took possession of me, and in flying haste did
-I urge my steed in the direction of the Kanonierstrasse.
-
-I riveted my eyes upon the house long before we reached it. Did my
-suspicion deceive me? Up there between the hyacinths did I not see some
-one look out? The wheels of my cab came rattling up before the door, no
-further mistake was possible; out of Emma’s window inclined a head with
-raven curls--it was hers! At the same moment my friend Otto impetuously
-pulled open the door of the cab, jumped out, and threw kisses to her.
-Then he put his hand to his mouth and called out: “I’ll wait for you
-down here with the cab. Come down, and we will have a drive in the
-Thiergarten.”
-
-I fell back into the corner of my seat. This was too much! The wretch!
-My own faithless beloved I was to take on a drive in the Thiergarten!
-
-Through my horn spectacles I cast one annihilating glance above; it
-fell upon no one, for Emma had left the window.
-
-For a moment I considered--should I tear the wig, spectacles, and
-beard from off my face, and so drop my disguise before the traitors?
-But the ridicule, the eternal ridicule! It seemed to me the whole
-Kanonierstrasse would stand on its head in appreciation of the joke.
-
-“Turn the top down,” commanded my friend Otto. “It is stifling in here.”
-
-Worse and worse! But what could I do? I scrambled down and began to do
-as I was bid. Meanwhile the street-door opened and Emma floated across
-the threshold. A sombre oath escaped me.
-
-“Now drive to the Thiergarten,” said my friend Otto.
-
-“Very well,” I replied, with terrible irony in my savage voice.
-
-The wretched couple behind my back seemed to be in the best of spirits,
-and as the cab was now open I could understand every word they spoke.
-
-“Did you receive my post-card?” asked the villain.
-
-“Of course I did,” replied the faithless one. “I did not know he was
-going out of town. Are you quite sure he’s gone? I’m in mortal terror.”
-
-“Never fear, my love,” he replied; “I was in his rooms this morning. He
-must have left very early.”
-
-I was furious. So this was the meaning of his interested questions the
-night before!
-
-Full of wrath I brought down my whip upon my horse.
-
-“Don’t beat that horse so!” cried my friend Otto from the cab; “we are
-in no particular hurry.”
-
-I burst into a roar of hysterical laughter. The villain! he was pitiful
-toward the horse, more than toward his friend. Again the nag was
-called upon to bear the brunt of my indignation at my friend Otto.
-
-“The fellow must be mad,” said my friend Otto.
-
-“Don’t talk so loud,” begged Emma.
-
-“Nonsense,” he replied. “I told you that he is as deaf as a poker;
-moreover, look at him. I believe he has false hair!”
-
-My wig had evidently become dislocated. I heard them giggle. For a
-moment I considered the propriety of turning my whip to good purpose
-behind me--but that of course would have betrayed me.
-
-The noise of passing carriages on Leipzigerstrasse made it impossible
-for me to hear what was passing between the couple; it was not until we
-had reached more quiet streets that I again caught some bits of their
-conversation. I perceived that I was again the subject thereof.
-
-“How do you get along with him?” asked my friend Otto.
-
-“Oh well,” responded Emma, “he’s a good enough fellow.”
-
-Whack,--the nag caught it again then, for the tone in which she said it
-roused my ire.
-
-“That’s so,” continued my friend Otto; “but he is a bore, an
-intolerable bore.”
-
-The knave! With bated breath I listened to hear what she would reply to
-this calumny.
-
-Emma giggled; that was as much as to say, “You are right.”
-
-I was in a fever of wrath.
-
-“Does he ever read any of his things to you?” asked my friend Otto.
-
-“Does he write?” she queried in surprise. The uneducated goose! The
-superficial hussy! Did she not know that I had already published two
-volumes of lyrical poetry? And she asks if I write!
-
-“I should think so,” replied my friend Otto, with an infamous roar of
-laughter. “Every little while he hatches a new poem a yard or two long,
-and reads it to his friends.”
-
-Emma shook with laughter.
-
-“So far he has spared me,” she observed.
-
-“Never fear, my love, never fear,” I muttered into my false beard; “you
-shan’t have any more opportunity to be bored by me!”
-
-In my mind I was composing the crushing farewell-note I intended to
-write to the faithless one on the morrow.
-
-After a time which seemed endless to me we reached the garden
-restaurant called “Charlottenhof.”
-
-“Hold on, driver!” bellowed my friend Otto, who, taking me to be deaf,
-considered it necessary to address me in his loudest tones. Then he
-turned to Emma.
-
-“Come, sweetheart,” he said, “we will have a glass of beer.” He helped
-her get down. “Wait till we come back,” he said to me. At the gate
-stood a waiter: “Fetch a glass of beer for the driver,” he added, and
-before I had time to enter protest he had stepped into the garden,
-arm-in-arm with his lady-love.
-
-Fully an hour and a half did my friend Otto see best to keep me waiting
-at the door, while he was amusing himself in the garden with his adored.
-
-I occupied myself with writing my obituary in spirit, and tears of
-emotion over my sad fate trickled down my beard. “By the fickleness
-of a heartless woman”--thus read the last page of my obituary--“and
-the depravity of a man whom he took to be his friend, was this poet’s
-heart broken, and this glorious possibility of immeasurable promise for
-Germany was nipped in the bud.”
-
-  _Ernst von Wildenbruch._
-
-
-
-
-_BON-MOTS._
-
-
-EVERYBODY is a genius, at least once in his life. The only difference
-is that the so called geniuses have their good ideas thicker. This
-shows how wise it is to put everything on paper.
-
-
-IT always grieves me when a man of talent dies, for earth has more need
-of him than heaven.
-
-
-THIS book had the effect which all good books have: it made the dull
-duller, the wise wiser, and the other millions remained unchanged.
-
-
-ONE of the greatest discoveries which human reason has made in modern
-times is, in my opinion, the art of judging books without having read
-them.
-
-
-HE had a couple of warts on his nose in a position which made them
-likely to be mistaken for the heads of nails, by means of which that
-feature might have been fastened to his face.
-
-
-IT is no art to say a thing in few words when you have something to
-say, like Tacitus. But when you have nothing to say, and write a big
-book, that’s what I call merit.
-
-
-HE combined the qualities of the greatest men in history: he carried
-his head on one side like Alexander the Great, he was always scratching
-his head like Cæsar, he could drink coffee like Leibnitz, and when he
-was comfortable in his easy-chair he would forget to eat and drink like
-Newton, and like him it was often necessary to wake him.
-
-
-“OUR forests are growing thinner, the supply of wood is declining, what
-shall we do?” Oh, when our forests are used up there is surely nothing
-to hinder our burning books until there is a new supply.
-
-
-OF all commodities in the market there is none more remarkable than
-books. Printed by persons who do not understand them; sold by people
-who do not understand them; bound, reviewed, and read by people who do
-not understand them; and, best of all, written by people who do not
-understand them.
-
-
-HE was a most meritorious boy: before he was six years old he could say
-the Lord’s Prayer backwards.
-
-
-I HAVE found throughout life that when all other means fail there is
-nothing that will give you a surer clue to a man’s character than a
-joke which he takes amiss.
-
-
-I SUPPOSE there is no man in the world who, if he turns thief for a
-thousand thalers, would not for half the money have preferred to remain
-the honest fellow he was.
-
-
-WHOSOEVER says he hates all kinds of flattery, and says it in good
-faith, has surely not become acquainted with all kinds, in matter or
-in form. To be sure, people of sense hate ordinary flattery, because
-they must necessarily feel mortified at the amount of credulity with
-which the flatterer credits them. That is, they hate ordinary flattery,
-because to them it is no flattery. According to my experience, there
-is no very great difference in human nature. Each has his own coin for
-which he will sell himself. It is human invention to differentiate
-between human beings; it is pride which supports these distinctions.
-Nobility of soul is very much of a piece with nobility of birth.
-
-
-TO make persons of discernment believe that you are somewhat which you
-are not is as a general thing more difficult than to become what you
-would appear to be.
-
-
-IF you would know what other people think about an affair which
-concerns you, consider what you would think of them under like
-circumstances. Do not take any one for more moral in this matter than
-you are, or for more credulous. This remark is more than half true, and
-this is saying a great deal for a maxim which a person lays down in his
-thirtieth year, as I do this one.
-
-
-ONE may rail at the faults of a great man, but one must not rail at the
-man for all that.
-
-
-IT is safe to take it as a sure sign that you are growing better when
-paying your debts gives you as much pleasure as making money.
-
-
-VIRTUE which is the result of good intention is not worth much. Impulse
-or custom is the thing.
-
-
-THAT a false hypothesis is often to be preferred to the true one is
-shown by the theory of the freedom of human volition. Certainly we
-are not free, but it requires a very profound study of philosophy not
-to be misled by this knowledge. Freedom is the easiest explanation,
-and will remain the most popular one because appearances are for
-it.--_Lichtenberg._
-
-
-THE story was told how St. Dionysius, after he had been beheaded,
-walked two miles with his head in his hand. “Two miles?” asked one of
-the company. “Yes, two miles; there is not the least doubt of it,”
-was the reply. “I will gladly believe you,” said a lady, wittier than
-the others; “on such occasions it is only the first step which is
-difficult.”
-
-
-THE French ambassador came to Charles V. with the request that Milan
-should be ceded to his master the king. Whereupon the emperor merely
-replied, “The wish of my brother, the King of France, is my own.”
-
-
-THE Duchess of Klingston desired to be admitted to the court circle
-at Berlin. She requested the Russian minister to take occasion to
-assure the king of her high esteem, and to tell him that she had been
-heard to say her fortune was in Rome, her fleet at Venice, and her
-heart in Berlin. When the king heard this he quickly responded with,
-“My compliments to the Duchess, and tell her I greatly fear she has
-favoured us with the least of her possessions.”
-
-
-A GREAT gentleman said to his servant in a moment of caprice, “Tell me,
-John, supposing the devil should come to get one of us, which one do
-you think he would take?”
-
-“He’d take me, without a doubt, your honour.”
-
-“Why so, you absurd fellow?”
-
-“Because he has some chance of losing me, but he is quite sure of you,”
-was the reply.
-
-
-A WITTY king, in travelling through his lands, passed a small
-provincial town in which great honour was shown him by the magistrate
-and burgomaster, the latter greeting the monarch in a solemn address.
-The most conspicuous thing about the portly little man was the
-well-rounded expansion of his spotless white vest. The day was very
-cold, and the speech was interminable. Suddenly the king interrupted
-the speaker, and, as if concerned about his health, pointing to the
-snowy vest, he graciously remarked, “My dear sir, I fear your _Mont
-Blanc_ will catch cold!”
-
-
-THE presence of a university makes the country stupid for miles
-about.--_Börne._
-
-
-WITH them (the troubadours) it is always the winter that goes and the
-spring that comes, and the _ennui_ that remains.--_Schiller._
-
-
-IF called upon to choose between the pangs of conscience and the pangs
-of toothache I should unhesitatingly choose the former.
-
-
-IN other countries when a citizen becomes dissatisfied with his
-government he emigrates, in France he requests the government to
-emigrate.--_Heine._
-
-
-
-
-_THE EARLY DAYS OF A GENIUS._
-
-
-THE ancients considered it as a piece of rare good fortune if the
-gods permitted a person to be born in a celebrated town. As, however,
-this good fortune has not befallen some very celebrated men, since
-Bethlehem, Eisleben, Stratford, Kamenz, and Marbach were not originally
-brilliant points in the thoughts of men, I trust Hans Unwirrsch was not
-put out by the fact of first seeing the light of day in a small town
-called Neustadt. There are not a few towns and boroughs bearing the
-same name; but they have never quarrelled over the honour of counting
-our hero among their citizens. Johannes Jakob Nikolaus Unwirrsch did
-not make his birthplace any more celebrated in the world.
-
-Ten thousand inhabitants did this poor little town have in 1819; to-day
-it has one hundred and fifty more. It lay, and still lies, in a broad
-valley, surrounded by hills and mountains, down the sides of which the
-forest comes straggling into the precincts of the town. In spite of
-its name it is no longer new; painfully has it struggled along through
-stormy centuries, and is now enjoying a peaceful, sleepy old age.
-The hope of making a mark in the world it has gradually given up, and
-feels none the less contented for this. The sound of its church-bells
-makes an agreeable impression upon the wanderer, as he steps out of the
-woods on the nearest hill-top; and when it so happens that the sun is
-mirrored in the windows of the two churches and the houses, this same
-wanderer seldom remembers that all is not gold that glitters, and that
-evening-bells, fruitful fields, green meadows, and a pretty little town
-in a valley, is not enough by far to make an idyl. Amyntas, Palæmon,
-Daphnis, and Doris often lead anything but an idyllic life in the
-valley below. As the fleecing of lambs and sheep had gone somewhat out
-of fashion, people were reduced to pitching into each other’s wool, and
-sometimes fleeced each other with a will. But there was much marrying
-and giving in marriage, and altogether people passed through life with
-a measure of comfort; that they found living not particularly dear,
-bore a part in this happy consummation. The devil take things when
-fruit and cider fail, and milk and honey is rare in Arcadia!
-
-But we shall probably have further opportunity to lose words about this
-here and there, and if not it is no matter. For the present we must
-turn back to the young Arcadian, Hans Unwirrsch, and see how he finds
-his way about in life.
-
-A very uneducated woman was the wife of the shoemaker. She could read
-and write in an exigency, but her philosophical education had been
-completely neglected; she wept easily, and with pleasure. Born in
-darkness, she remained in darkness; suckled her child, set him on his
-feet, and taught him to walk--put him on his feet for life, and taught
-him to walk for life. That is great praise, and the most cultured
-mother can do no more for her child.
-
-In a low, dark room, into which but little fresh air and still less
-sunshine came, did Hans awake to consciousness; and that was well
-in one respect. Later on he was not too much afraid of the caves, in
-which by far the greater part of humanity partaking of the blessings
-of civilisation are obliged to spend their lives. All his life he took
-light and air for what they are, luxuries which fate gives or denies,
-and which it seems to deny more willingly than to give.
-
-The room on the street-side, which had at the same time been Meister
-Anton’s workshop, was kept unchanged in its former condition. With
-anxious care did the widow see to it that none of the tools belonging
-to the deceased were moved. Her uncle Grünebaum had declared his
-willingness to purchase all the unnecessary implements at an acceptable
-price; but Frau Christine could not bring herself to sell a single
-piece. In all her leisure hours she sat at her wonted seat beside the
-shoemaker’s work-table, and in the evening it was, as we know, only
-by the light of the glass-ball that she could knit or sew or read her
-hymnal.
-
-The poor woman worked hard to gain an honest living for herself and her
-child. In the little bedroom, the windows of which looked out into the
-yard, she lay many a night wakeful and anxious, while Hans Unwirrsch
-in his father’s large bedstead was dreaming of the large rolls and
-buttered slices of bread that the neighbours’ happy children enjoyed.
-Wise Meister Grünebaum did what he could by his relatives, but he was
-not very successful in his trade; he was too fond of delivering long
-speeches at the ale-house; and his customers were more willing to give
-him a pair of shaky boots to be mended than to order a new pair of
-him. It was with difficulty that he kept his head above water; but he
-was never chary about giving advice, indeed he gave it gladly and in
-large quantities, and unfortunately we must call attention to the not
-unusual fact that the quantity stood for the most part in no proper
-relation to the quality. Cousin Schlotterbeck, though by no means so
-wise as Meister Grünebaum, was more practical, and it was upon _her_
-advice that Frau Christine became a washerwoman, getting up in the
-morning between two and three, and returning at night tired and aching,
-to still the primary, physical hunger of her child, and translate his
-dreams into reality.
-
-Hans Unwirrsch retained faint, odd, and uncertain memories of this
-period of his life, which he has reported to his nearest friends. He
-had a light sleep from early youth, and so he often awoke by the light
-of a match, with which in cold, dark nights of winter his mother lit
-her lamp to prepare for her early walk. He lay in his warm pillow, and
-did not stir until his mother bent over him to see if she had awakened
-the little sleeper by the pattering of her slippers. Then he would
-throw his arms about her neck and laugh, while she gave him a kiss
-and an exhortation to go quickly to sleep again, for the day was far
-distant. This exhortation he would obey at once, or else later. In
-the latter case he looked at the burning lamp through his half-closed
-eye-lids, and at his mother and the shadows on the wall.
-
-Strange it is that all his recollections seem to be of winter; there
-was a misty atmosphere about the flame of the lamp; his breath made a
-cloud between him and the light; the frozen window-panes glittered,
-it was bitter cold, and the comfort he felt in his safe, warm bed was
-intermingled with terror of the bitter cold without, which made him
-pull the blanket over his nose.
-
-He never could understand why his mother got up so early, while it was
-so dark and so cold, and while such queer, black shadows were gliding
-along the wall, nodding, rising, and bending. Still more vague were his
-thoughts about the places his mother went to; in accordance with his
-momentary mood, he pictured them more or less pleasantly, mingling in
-all sorts of details taken from fairy-tales, and fragments out of the
-conversations of grown persons that he had overheard, and which in
-these misty moments between sleeping and waking took on more and more
-of a gaudy colouring.
-
-At last his mother was dressed, and once more she bent over the child’s
-bed. Again he received a kiss, a great deal of good advice, and many
-enticing promises, if he would lie still, not cry, and go to sleep
-again. The assurance was added that the morning, and with it Cousin
-Schlotterbeck, would be coming ere long; the lamp was blown out, the
-room grew dark, the door creaked, the steps of his mother passed away;
-soon he was fast asleep, and when he awoke again Cousin Schlotterbeck
-was generally sitting by his bedside, and in the adjoining room he
-could hear the fire crackle in the stove.
-
-Cousin Schlotterbeck, although she was not much older than Frau
-Christine Unwirrsch, had always been Cousin Schlotterbeck. No one in
-the Kröppelstrasse knew her by any other designation, and she was as
-well known in the Kröppelstrasse as the “old Fritz,” as the Emperor
-Napoleon, and old Blücher, although she had no further resemblance to
-these celebrated heroes than that she used snuff like the Prussian
-king, and had a hooked nose like the “Corsican bloodhound.”
-
-Of right she should have filled a chapter by herself in this book,
-for she had a gift of which not every one can boast: to her the dead
-had not departed this earth; she saw them walk the streets, she met
-them on the market-place as one sees the living, and comes upon them
-unexpectedly around the corner. There was nothing weird about this to
-her; she spoke of it as of something quite natural and unsurprising,
-and to her there was no difference whatever between the Burgomaster
-Eckerlein, who had died in the year 1769, and often met her in his wig
-and red velvet coat near the apothecary’s shop, and the grandson of
-this man, who owned this same apothecary’s shop in the year 1820, and
-who was now looking out of the window with no faculty for seeing his
-grandfather walking below.
-
-Even in the minds of Cousin Schlotterbeck’s acquaintances this
-strange “gift” of hers no longer awakened horror. The unbelieving
-ceased scoffing at it, and the believing--of whom there was a goodly
-number--did not cross themselves any more. Upon the character of the
-good little woman this high favour had no perverting influence. She was
-not made supercilious by her marvellous seer’s gift; she took it as
-an undeserved favour of God, and remained more humble than many other
-people who did not see nearly as much as the oldish spinster in the
-Kröppelstrasse.
-
-As far as her external appearance is concerned, Cousin Schlotterbeck
-was of medium height, but she stooped perceptibly, and walked with
-a far-protruding head. Her clothes hung about her like something
-that does not belong there, and her nose was, as we have said, very
-sharp and very hooked. It would have impressed one disagreeably,
-this nose would, if it had not been for the eyes. But her eyes did
-penance for every sin her nose committed; they were remarkable eyes,
-and saw remarkable things. Clear and beaming they were up to her old
-age,--blue, young eyes in an old, old, dried-up face! Hans Unwirrsch
-never forgot them, although he looked into much more beautiful eyes in
-his life.
-
-To learning, Cousin Schlotterbeck was devoted in a naïve way. She had
-a tremendous admiration for wisdom, and particularly for theological
-wisdom; little Hans was indebted to her for an introduction to all
-the erudition of which he made himself more or less a possessor in
-later times. She could tell fairy-tales which would have delighted the
-hearts of the Brothers Grimm, and when the wicked queen put the golden
-pin into her stepdaughter’s head, Hans Unwirrsch felt the point of it
-piercing through to his very diaphragm.
-
-Hans and the cousin were inseparable during the first years of the
-boy’s life. From early morning till late at night the ghost-seer took
-the part of a mother to the child; without her advice and help did
-nothing occur which related to him; many a time did she appease his
-hunger, and many a more subtle hunger did she awake in him.
-
-Hans Unwirrsch was a precocious child, and learned to talk almost
-before he walked; reading was to him but play. Cousin Schlotterbeck
-understood this difficult art very well, and managed to stumble through
-the most incomprehensible big words.
-
-She liked to read aloud, and indulged in a nasal eloquence which was
-very impressive to the child. Her library consisted principally of a
-Bible, a hymnal, and a long row of almanacs standing in unbroken line
-from the year 1790, each of which contained a touching, or comic,
-or sensational narrative, as well as a goodly stock of receipts and
-nostrums, and a fine collection of funny anecdotes. For a susceptible
-childish imagination there lay a world of rare wonder in these old
-pamphlets, and spirits of all kinds arose out of them, smiling,
-grinning, threatening, and leading the young soul through various
-horrors and delights. A still greater impression, however, did the
-“book of books,” the Bible, make upon the boy. With shuddering rapture
-did Hans sit at the feet of his cousin, and dive into the mysteries of
-chaos; the earth was void and empty, until the light came dividing the
-darkness and the water under the land from the water over the land.
-When sun, moon, and stars began their dance, and signs, times, days,
-and years appeared, then he breathed anew; and when the earth brought
-forth grass, and leaves, and fruit-trees, and when the water, and the
-air, and the earth began to be peopled with moving and living animals,
-then he clapped his little hands, and felt ground under him once more.
-
-[Illustration: “WITH SHUDDERING RAPTURE DID HANS SIT AT THE FEET OF HIS
-COUSIN.”]
-
-But his days did not pass only with reading and listening to stories.
-As soon as Hans Unwirrsch did not throw his hands about aimlessly
-any more, or put them into his mouth, his mother and cousin made
-haste to introduce him to the great principle of labour. Cousin
-Schlotterbeck was an ingenious woman, who managed to earn an extra
-penny by dressing dolls for a large factory, an occupation which was
-interesting enough for a child, and in which Hans liked to be helpful.
-Ladies and gentlemen, peasants and shepherds, and many other little
-personages of various social positions and ages, arose under the
-skilful fingers of his cousin, who worked away bravely with glue and
-with her needle, with bright bits of cloth and gilt paper, of which
-she gave a proper share to each, in exact proportion to the price. It
-was a philosophical occupation, which left one free to harbour a great
-many ideas, and Hans Unwirrsch took kindly to it, although, of course,
-his childish pleasure in the toys was soon lost. He who has grown up in
-a shop of Jack-in-the-boxes, takes little pleasure in each individual
-Jack-in-the-box, be he ever so gaudy and agile in turning up his toes.
-
-After Martinmas, which momentous day unfortunately could not be
-celebrated with roast goose, Cousin Schlotterbeck devoted herself to
-independent fabrication. She could very profitably apply her talent
-to plastic art; she formed little men out of raisins, to be sold at
-Christmas, and for more humble minds she made churls out of dried
-plums. The first fellow of this latter kind, who was manufactured by
-Hans without help, gave him as much pleasure as the hopeful art student
-experiences at the sight of the picture which gained him the _prix de
-Rome_.
-
-In his fifth year Johannes Jakob Nikolaus Unwirrsch was a little
-awkward fellow, in a pair of breeches which had been cut and designed
-for him to grow into. Out of bluish-grey eyes he looked merrily
-into the world and into the Kröppelstrasse, his nose had nothing
-characteristic as yet, his mouth promised fair to grow very large, and
-kept its promise. The yellow hair of the boy curled naturally, and was
-the prettiest thing about him. He had in every respect an excellent
-stomach, like all people who are designed to hunger a great deal in
-life; he got through with his A B C with no more difficulty than with
-the biggest slice of brown bread and with the fullest soup plate. The
-two women, his mother and his cousin, spoiled him, of course, to the
-best of their ability, and honoured him as crown-prince, hero, and
-world’s wonder, so that it was well when the Government interfered, and
-declared him old enough to go to school. Hans Unwirrsch set his foot on
-the lowest round of the ladder, which stands by the fruitful tree of
-knowledge, the door of the poor-school opened to him, and Silberlöffel,
-the schoolmaster, promised Cousin Schlotterbeck at the door that her
-“precious boy” should neither be murdered by himself nor by the hundred
-and sixty good-for-nothings who were subject to his rule.
-
-“Cousin” departed with a corner of her apron up to her eyes, and
-would not be comforted, until near the town well she met the pastor
-Primarius Holzapfel, who had died in the year eighteen hundred and
-fifteen, attired in his black surplice, with an enormous ruff about
-his neck, and a Bible in his hand. “Cousin” had been well acquainted
-with the pastor and his parents. His father had been a woodcutter, and
-his mother had died in the Hospital of the Holy Spirit; Primarius the
-pastor, with whose praise the town still rung, had occupied the very
-place in the poor-school to which Silberlöffel was taking little Hans.
-
-In a dark street, in a one-storey building, which had once been an
-engine-house, the community had instituted a school for poor children,
-after having refused for a long time to give up any building for so
-superfluous an object. It was a damp hole; almost at any time of day
-you could see the water run down the walls; fungi flourished in the
-corners and under the teacher’s desk. The tables and benches were moist
-and sticky, and during vacation they were always covered with a thin
-coating of mould. The windows it would be best not to mention; it was
-no wonder if in their vicinity there were also interesting growths of
-fungus. Neither was it a wonder if in the extremities of the teacher
-rheumatic knots formed, and in his lungs the most exquisite tubercles.
-It was no wonder if at times half of the pupils were ill with a fever.
-If the community had been called upon to put a marble monument on every
-child’s grave which was dug in the churchyard by its guilt, it would
-soon have supplied a new building for the school.
-
-Karl Silberlöffel was the name the teacher signed to the receipts for
-the enormous sums which he received quarterly from the State. Alas, the
-poor fellow had received this name as it were by the irony of fate;
-he had not been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. How can the
-Government be expected to bother about the schoolmaster Silberlöffel
-so long as the question as to what is the smallest possible amount of
-knowledge that may be permitted to the lower classes without harm and
-discomfort to the higher is still unsolved? For a long time to come
-the gentlemen puzzling over this question will consider the common
-schoolmasters as their enemies, and will look upon it as an absurd
-and altogether preposterous demand when dangerous and revolutionary
-idealists require them to do good unto their enemies, and at least
-dress them decently and feed them tolerably well.
-
-Later in life our hero often invited the country schoolmaster at
-Grunzenow to his Sunday dinner or his Christmas punch, remembering
-these first school-days and the poor-teacher Silberlöffel. Neither did
-he object when the schoolmaster on the Baltic put some of the good,
-nourishing things set before him into his pocket for his seven boys at
-home; he himself would fetch him an old paper to wrap them in, and help
-him crowd the bundle into his coat pocket.
-
-In the engine house at Neustadt the girls sat on the right-hand side
-and the boys on the left. Between these two divisions there was a
-passage from the door up to the teacher’s desk, and in this passage
-Silberlöffel walked, coughing, up and down, without one of his charge
-being moved thereby to pity. Long, very long, was the poor fellow;
-thin, very thin, was he; very melancholy did he look, and he had good
-cause.
-
-Another in his place would have raised his spirits, and warmed himself
-in the damp, cold room by lustily whipping the boys; but he was beyond
-that even. His faint ventures in this line were considered as a good
-joke merely; his authority was below zero. A pitiful reproach to all
-well-dressed people were the garments of this worthy man; especially
-the hat acted a perfect tragedy with its possessor. The point between
-the two was which should survive the other, and the hat seemed to
-know that it would carry the prize. A diabolical taunt seemed to grin
-from out of its boils and scratches. The villain knew that it would
-also survive the successor of the consumptive man; it was utterly
-indifferent to the mould and the dampness of the engine-house.
-
-[Illustration: “COUPLING TWO AND TWO OF THEM TOGETHER BY FIRMLY
-TWISTING THE ENDS OF THEIR HAIR INTO A KNOT.”]
-
-Hans Unwirrsch entered the swarm of poor scholars by no means with
-sentimental feelings. After having conquered the first surprise
-and embarrassment, after having made himself at home in his new
-surroundings, he proved himself to be no better than any other
-scapegrace, and to the best of his ability took part in the pleasures
-and pains of this praiseworthy public institution. Friends and enemies
-among the boys were soon discovered; congenial spirits attached
-themselves to him, the uncongenial tried to pull him out of his views
-of life by the hairs of his head, and in single combat as in general
-skirmish he often came to grief, which, however, he bore like a manly
-chap, without seeking refuge behind his teacher. As a manly chap he
-also had, at this period of his life, a healthy aversion toward the
-female sex upon the benches at the right of the passage. He was fond of
-putting shoemaker’s wax on the girls’ seats, and of coupling two and
-two of them together by firmly twisting the ends of their hair into a
-knot; he looked upon them with sovereign disdain as inferior creatures,
-who knew no other means of defence than shrieking, and through whom the
-schoolmaster was better informed about the left half of his school than
-the boys relished. At first there was not the least trace of chivalrous
-impulses and feelings within his bosom, but the time which was to hail
-the first awaking dawn in this respect was not far distant, and soon
-there was _one_ little creature on the other side of the school who
-made her influence felt upon Hans Unwirrsch. There came a time when he
-could not bear to see _one_ little fellow-pupil cry, and when he felt
-a nameless longing, which was not directed toward the great slices
-of bread and butter and hunches of cake which he saw other children
-devour upon the street; but for the present he impudently put his
-hands in the pockets of his baggy breeches, set his legs far apart,
-put himself firmly on his feet, and sought to emancipate himself as
-far as possible from the absolutism of womankind. No more now did he
-sit quiet and patient at the feet of Cousin Schlotterbeck and listen
-reverently to her teachings and exhortations, her fairy-tales and
-almanac stories, and her Bible readings. To the great discomfort of
-the good old lady did he daily manifest a more critical spirit. The
-almanac stories he knew by heart; no sooner did the “Cousin” begin
-a fairy-tale than he interrupted her to suggest emendations and ask
-impertinently ironical questions; to her kind exhortations he always
-offered confusing objections, which more than once put the good lady
-quite out of countenance. When, as was her custom, the good soul got
-entangled in a long-breathed genealogical row of biblical names, Hans
-took a truly diabolical pleasure therein, and tried to drive the
-poor creature deeper into the thorns, so that she at last with angry
-virulence would clap the book to and call her quondam “little lamb” a
-“saucy good-for-nothing.” Behind her back he was up to all sorts of
-trickery; yes, he went so far as to caricature her person before a
-select audience in the Kröppelstrasse, consisting of persons of his own
-age. In short, Hans Jakob Nikolaus Unwirrsch had now reached that stage
-in life during which loving relations with darkly melancholy looks
-and warning gestures prognosticated to this hopeful scion or youthful
-acquaintance a dark future, the beggar’s staff, prison, penitentiary,
-and at last, as an agreeable conclusion, a disgraceful death on the
-gallows. It is well that prophecies usually are not fulfilled.
-
-Naturally Hans now felt more drawn to his Uncle Grünebaum than to his
-mother and cousin. The original cobbler had much about him that was
-attractive to the youthful mind. To Hans, when in the company of this
-worthy man, time seldom seemed to drag.
-
-[Illustration: “READING THE ‘TOWN AND COUNTRY HERALD’ WITH A LOUD VOICE
-TO HIMSELF AND HIS BIRDS.”]
-
-Very dirty and neglected did the household and surroundings of Uncle
-Grünebaum look to any respectable woman. In his workshop it looked as
-if brownies had made their home, not with kindly intentions, but in the
-most bitter ire. A wilder topsy-turvy can scarcely be pictured. Uncle
-Grünebaum spent the greater part of his day and of his work-hours in
-hunting for something or other. The tool he was in search of was never
-to be found, and rummaging for it did not benefit the general aspect of
-things. Over and above all there was a perpetual noise of whistling,
-singing, and screeching birds in large and small cages upon the walls;
-a tree-frog in a glass by the window foretold the weather. But as
-for the political weather, Meister Grünebaum foretold it to himself,
-reading the _Town and Country Herald_ with a loud voice to himself
-and his birds, an occupation which also took up a good deal of his
-work-time. The worthy Uncle Grünebaum did only just so much cobbling
-as was necessary to keep him and his birds alive, and to pay for the
-_Herald_. His glass at the alehouse was oftener scored than is good for
-a respectable citizen and shoemaker.
-
-During this period of his restless life Hans decidedly preferred the
-street and its details to domestic happiness, to the quiet undisturbed
-peace of his own home. Oh, thou blessed time of dirty hands and
-bleeding noses, of torn jackets and rumbled hair! Woe to the man who
-has never known thee! It were better for him if he had not known
-some other things which loving relations and friends with the darkly
-melancholy look blandly praised and recommended!
-
-  _Wilhelm Raabe._
-
-
-
-
-_NEWSPAPER HUMOUR._
-
-
-_Shoemakers Apprentice_ (passing by a baker’s stand): “Got any stale
-rolls?”
-
-_Baker_: “Yes, my lad.”
-
-_Apprentice_: “Serves you right. You should have sold ’em when they
-were fresh.”
-
-
-IN COURT.--_Judge_: “How is it that you picked up a number of
-comparatively worthless articles, and left the money, which was close
-at hand, untouched?”
-
-_Criminal_: “I hope your honour won’t find fault with me for that. My
-wife has been hard enough on me about it.”
-
-
-_Restaurant-keeper_ (to guest reading his paper): “I am very sorry,
-sir, to be obliged to ask you not to lunch here in future. You shake
-your head all the time. _I_ know it’s the politics, but others don’t
-know it, and it’s hurting my reputation.”
-
-
-AT A RESTAURANT.--“This beefsteak is so tough the knife won’t go
-through.”
-
-_Restaurant-keeper_: “Waiter, another knife for the gentleman.”
-
-
-[Illustration: “GOODNESS, HOW YOU LOOK, CHILD!”]
-
-_Father_: “Goodness, how you look, child!”
-
-_Frankie_: “I fell into the canal.”
-
-_Father_: “What! With your new trousers on?”
-
-_Frankie_: “I didn’t have time to take ’em off.”
-
-
-“ALLOW me, Mademoiselle, to present this to you.”
-
-“No, no, I do not wish to accept a present.”
-
-“It is a volume of my poems.”
-
-“Ah, that is different. I could not have permitted you to give me
-anything _valuable_.”
-
-
-_Judge_ (to an individual notorious for thievish proclivities): “I was
-told you stole wood the other day. That is not true, is it, Peter?”
-
-_Peter_: “Nay, Herr Judge.”
-
-_Judge_: “The policeman says he found the wood at your house. That
-can’t be so?”
-
-_Peter_: “Nay, Herr Judge.”
-
-_Judge_: “Well, Peter, I’ll sentence you to six weeks in gaol. That’s
-not too much, is it?”
-
-_Peter_: “Nay, Herr Judge.”
-
-
-“I WONDER why that gentleman over there is holding the paper up before
-his face for such an interminable length of time?”
-
-“The explanation is very simple. Because his tailor happens to be
-sitting at our table.”
-
-
-A CONSIDERATE YOUTH.--_Aunt_: “Well, Fritz, I hear you were flogged in
-school to-day?”
-
-_Fritz_: “Yes, but it didn’t hurt.”
-
-_Aunt_: “I thought I heard you cry.”
-
-_Fritz_: “I did that to please the teacher.”
-
-
-“YOU advertise your socks to have fast colours, and now I had on a
-pair for two days, and for a fortnight I have not been able to get the
-colour off from my feet.”
-
-“Well, don’t you call that a fast colour? What more can you wish?”
-
-
-AT THE LIVERY STABLE.--“How much do you ask for this horse by the hour?”
-
-“One thaler.”
-
-“That is, I trust, counting up to the time when the horse returns? It
-is quite likely I shall be here somewhat later!”
-
-
-_Doctor_: “I know just what will help you. You must drink two cups of
-very strong tea every morning.”
-
-_Patient_: “Why, that is just what I have done for years.”
-
-_Doctor_: “Then you must stop it.”
-
-
-“HENRY, my cigars are disappearing at a great rate. Is it possible that
-within the short time you have been in my service----”
-
-“Never fear, sir; I have three boxes full left from my last master.”
-
-
-_Lieutenant A._ (relating his gallant adventures at the ball): “A
-crowd of ladies stood about me, waiting for me to say something very
-brilliant.”
-
-_Lieutenant B._: “Of course you kept them in suspense.”
-
-_Lieutenant A._: “Most certainly I did.”
-
-
-_New Burgomaster_: “No celebrity ever been born in this town?”
-
-_First Citizen_: “Not yet, unfortunately; but all that will be
-different under your administration.”
-
-
-_A._ (to a young doctor): “How many rooms have you?”
-
-_B._: “First, there is a waiting-room.”
-
-_A._: “Pardon me for interrupting you. What do you call a waiting-room?
-Is it a room in which your patients wait for you, or one in which you
-wait for patients?”
-
-
-_A._: “Dr. Krampel has saved my life.”
-
-_B._: “I did not know that you were ever in his treatment.”
-
-_A._: “No, when I consulted him he advised me to go to another
-physician.”
-
-
-POETRY AND PROSE.--“Tell me what it was that inspired you to write this
-glorious poem?”
-
-_Poet_: “My youngest needed a new suit of clothes.”
-
-
-_Lady_ (roguishly to her partner): “So you too are a conductor on the
-road to Hades?”
-
-_Young Physician_: “You mistake, I am less than that--in fact, merely a
-brakesman!”
-
-
-_Baroness_: “Your daughter will find a kind mistress in me. I trust she
-is accustomed to work and to early rising?”
-
-_Peasant_: “That she is, ma’am. She can serve you as an example.”
-
-
-[Illustration: COQUETRY AVENGED.]
-
-_Coquetry Avenged._--_Lady_: “Ah, Herr Lieutenant, I have rejected many
-addresses!”
-
-_Lieutenant_: “Is that so? Well, you have had time to do so!”
-
-
-_Judge_: “Prisoner, do you confess your guilt?”
-
-_Prisoner_: “No. The words of my counsel have convinced me of my
-innocence.”
-
-
-_Lady_: “And so you are a friend of my son Edward? I shall be delighted
-to hear what news you can tell me about him. Is he enjoying his studies
-at the university, and has he grown accustomed to the intricacies of
-town-life? Has he learned to find his way about?”
-
-_Student_: “Oh yes, he is all right so far as that is concerned. Only
-he has some difficulty in finding his way home from the tavern.”
-
-
-“COME, John, get up on the mare!”
-
-“Pray, why should I make such a detour to get around to the other side?”
-
-
-AT THE BALL.--_Gentleman_: “Do you play on the piano?”
-
-_Lady_: “No.”
-
-_Gentleman_: “Ah, then you sing?”
-
-_Lady_: “No, sir,--neither have I had the influenza.”
-
-
-_Maid_ (to her young mistress, who has written a love-letter for her at
-her request): “Oh, thank you so much, Miss! The letter is beautiful.
-But please don’t forget to put a postscript: Excuse bad writin’ and
-spellin’!”
-
-
-“IT is very provoking that your wife should have read my last letter to
-you. I thought you said she never opens your letters?”
-
-“She doesn’t generally, but you committed the folly of writing
-‘Private’ upon the envelope.”
-
-
-IF you ask a man for the date of his birth, he tells you only the year;
-if you ask a woman, she never tells you more than the day.
-
-
-_Custodian of the Schloss at Heidelberg_ (explaining the functions of
-his office to stranger): “What the professors are to the university,
-that _we_ are to the Schloss.”
-
-
-IN COURT.--_Defendant_: “Gentlemen, I have much to say in favour of my
-client. First----”
-
-_Prisoner_ (interrupting him): “You’d better not give yourself any
-trouble trying to pull me through, Herr Doctor. I take it the gentlemen
-haven’t much faith left in either of us.”
-
-
-_A._: “I wish I knew something to give my uncle for his birthday. He is
-such an old miser that no matter what I buy him, I’m sure he will not
-use it.”
-
-_B._: “Why, that’s glorious! All you have to do is to fill half-a-dozen
-of bottles with water, cork and seal them well, and stick on a label,
-‘Old Rhine Wine, 1780.’”
-
-
-FREDERICK, a tailor’s apprentice, has lent a shilling to Henry, a
-barbers journeyman. To show his gratitude, Henry says: “Frederick, if
-you should ever get into straits, if all your friends should fall off
-from you; if your father and mother, your sister and brother, should
-leave you in the lurch, then come to me, and take my word for it, _I’ll
-shave you, and never charge you a penny_!”
-
-
-_Stranger_: “Beg pardon, sir, will you tell me which road I must take
-to get to the university?”
-
-_First Student_: “I don’t know precisely myself. It is only two years
-since I came here. It is more likely you know, Bummer--you’ve been here
-for eight years.”
-
-_Second Student_: “I? I have forgotten long ago.”
-
-
-
-
-NOTE.
-
-
-ACKNOWLEDGMENTS are here tendered to Herr Wilhelm Raabe, for his kind
-permission to include the translation from _Hunger-Pastor_; to Herr
-Julius Stinde, for his kind permission to translate from the _Familie
-Buchholz_; to Herr W. H. Riehl and his publisher, to translate from
-_Jörg Muckenhuber_; to Herr Friedrich Theodor v. Vischer, and to the
-Deutsche Verlagsanstalt, Stuttgart, to translate from Herr v. Vischer’s
-_Auch Einer_; to Herr Ernst Eckstein, to translate from _Besuch im
-Carcer_; to Messrs. Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, & Co., Limited, and
-to Mr. Leland, for their kind permission to include Mr. Leland’s
-translations of Scheffel and others (see _Gaudeamus_, published by
-Messrs. Kegan Paul). Best thanks are also to be accorded to various
-German authors and publishers, who have so courteously sanctioned
-translated extracts.
-
-
-
-
-BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX OF WRITERS.
-
-
-HUGO VON TRIMBERG is said to have been the rector of a school near
-Bamberg, 1260-1309. He wrote several books of a didactic and satirical
-type, including _The Runner_ and _The Gatherer_, the latter of which he
-tells us was lost during his lifetime. He severely denounces everything
-and everybody pertaining to the younger generation, and chants the
-praises of the “good old times.” His writings are somewhat desultory,
-and their chief interest lies in the inserted fables which serve him to
-spin out a moral.
-
-HANS SACHS was born at Nuremberg, on 5th November 1494. In his
-fifteenth year he was apprenticed to a shoemaker, and was instructed
-in the elements of “master-singing” by the linen-draper Nunnenbeck. As
-a travelling journeyman in his trade he visited the schools of all the
-celebrated master-singers of Germany. Returning after five years to his
-native town, he devoted himself to his calling of shoemaker and to the
-art of song. His first poetic production was a hymn which he composed
-in Munich in 1514. The Reformation inspired him to an allegorical ode
-in honour of Luther, entitled “Die Wittembergisch Nachtigal,” which
-was followed by a great number of short religious poems. He died at
-Nuremberg in 1576, his last years having been clouded by insanity. He
-was an extraordinarily prolific writer of songs, plays, and farces.
-
-CHRISTOFFEL VON GRIMMELSHAUSEN (1620-1676) was born at Gelnhausen.
-During his youth he served in the army, and his experiences of life
-as a soldier in the Thirty Years’ War are related in the romance of
-_Simplicius Simplicissimus_. During his later years he was mayor of the
-small town of Renchen, in the Black Forest. In his various writings he
-made use of a whimsical collection of _noms-de-plume_, thereby somewhat
-complicating the task of literary research.
-
-LUDWIG TIECK (1773-1853) was the son of a rope-maker in Berlin. In
-his studies at the universities of Halle, Göttingen, and Erlangen,
-he devoted special attention to the Romanic languages, and later,
-at Berlin, to the history of art, Old German poetry, and modern
-literature. He soon found himself in opposition to the views of poetry
-then popular. After his marriage, he lived for a while in Jena on
-intimate terms with the two Schlegels, removing with them to Dresden,
-and later publishing an “Almanac of the Muses” in company with A. W.
-Schlegel. After 1840 he received a pension from Frederick William IV.
-of Prussia; he took up his residence at Berlin, where he died. He
-contributed a great deal to the Shakespeare literature of Germany, with
-the aid of historical and literary studies on this subject made during
-a visit to London in 1818, and wrote many dramas, lyrics, and novels,
-as well as works of severe literary criticism.
-
-JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER, commonly called Jean Paul, was born in
-1763 at Wunsiedel, in the Baireuth district. His writings abound in
-pleasing recollections of his youthful days, though these were spent
-in poverty. After passing through the gymnasium at Hof, and pursuing
-a course of studies at Leipsic, he made some attempts in satire, but
-without success. He was for some time employed as private tutor in
-several families, and after the publication of an incomplete romance
-entitled _The Invisible Lodge_, gained a reputation as a humorist. His
-later works include _Hesperus_, _The Life of Quintus Fixlein_, _Titan_,
-_Siebenkäs_, _Wild Oats_, and several other discursive romances. He
-was induced by his friendship for Herder to revisit Weimar in 1798,
-remaining there until 1800, when he went to Berlin. A few years
-afterwards he received a pension, which enabled him to live in modest
-and comfortable circumstances at Baireuth, where he died in 1825.
-
-AUGUST FRIEDRICH FERDINAND VON KOTZEBUE (1761-1819) was born at Weimar,
-where his father held a high position at court. He studied at Jena,
-and subsequently held several political offices in Russia, as well as
-Germany. His first writings did much to rob him of public respect.
-In 1798 he went to Vienna to take charge of the court theatre. Soon
-after, when on his way to St. Petersburg, he was sent to Siberia. He
-continued to write during his exile, was recalled, and came to live at
-Jena, which place he left, however, because of his perpetual animosity
-for Goethe. He was intensely unpatriotic, and indulged himself
-repeatedly in his writings in pouring out invectives upon German
-Liberal politicians on the one hand, and upon the Romantic school and
-the reform of the drama attempted by Schiller on the other. His motives
-in literature, as in politics, were purely mercenary. So venomous was
-he in his attacks upon the ideals of the German “Burschenschaften”
-that he aroused the fanaticism of a young student, Ludwig Sand, who,
-moreover, suspecting him of acting as a Russian spy, assassinated him
-at Mannheim.
-
-JOHANN HEINRICH DANIEL ZSCHOKKE (1771-1848), born in Magdeburg, and
-educated at the gymnasium connected with the monastery at that place.
-In 1788 he left his native town, and joining a company of actors, he
-roamed about as a playwright. He then studied philosophy, theology,
-history, and art at Frankfort-on-Oder, and became a tutor there. He
-filled several responsible political positions in Switzerland, until
-he retired in 1841 to his country-house near Aarau, where he died.
-He wrote a number of dramas, _Aballino, the Great Bandit_, _The Iron
-Mask_, etc., as well es countless romances, novels, and books of travel.
-
-LOUIS CHARLES ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO (1781-1838) was a member of
-the old and aristocratic French family Chamisso de Boncourt, who
-were expelled from France by the Revolution, in which they lost
-their estates. Adelbert lived with his parents in Berlin, where he
-subsequently entered the Prussian army, accompanied the navigator
-Otto von Kotzebue on a voyage round the world, and then held for
-some years an appointment at the Botanic Garden in Berlin, where he
-died. He was a very versatile writer. Besides his lyrics and the
-fantastic story of _Peter Schlemihl_, which gained him a name in German
-literature, he wrote _De animalibus quibusdam e classe vermium Linnæi_,
-_Über die Hawaiisprache_, and _Bemerkungen und Ansichten auf einer
-Entdeckungsreise unter Kotzebue_.
-
-HEINRICH HEINE (1799-1856) was born at Düsseldorf, of Jewish parents.
-He devoted himself to a mercantile calling at Hamburg for a while, then
-studied law at Berlin, Bonn, and Göttingen, adopted Christianity in
-1825, edited the _Political Annals_ in company with Murhard, lived at
-Berlin, Munich, and Hamburg, and finally in Paris, where he received a
-pension for his literary services up to his death.
-
-MORITZ GOTTLIEB SAPHIR was born in 1795 at a small Hungarian town,
-where his grandfather, under the decree of the Emperor Joseph II.
-compelling the Jews to take family names, had adopted the name of
-Saphir. Intending at first to become a merchant, this idea soon grew
-distasteful to him. He went to Prague to study the Talmud; then began
-to devote himself entirely to literature, and soon wrote some verses,
-which showed his satirical talent. At Vienna his satirical muse made
-him so many enemies that he went to Berlin, where he wrote and edited
-a great many humorous books. He was obliged to leave Berlin also,
-and going to live at Munich, he got into trouble on account of some
-satirical passages which were supposed to refer to the King of Bavaria,
-and which resulted in his imprisonment. He died at Baden, near Vienna,
-in 1858.
-
-WILHELM HAUFF was born at Stuttgart in 1802, studied theology
-at Tübingen, became tutor in a private family at Stuttgart, and
-subsequently edited a paper in that town. He aimed at improving the
-public taste, which had been greatly influenced by H. Clauren. With
-this object he wrote a novel, _The Man in the Moon_, purporting to
-be written by Clauren. Having lost the ensuing law-suit, Hauff wrote
-his celebrated _Controversy about the Man in the Moon_. He also wrote
-_Die Memoiren des Satans_, _Lichtenstein_, _Die Bettlerin von Pont
-des Arts_, _Die Phantasien im Bremer Rathskeller_, etc. He died at
-Stuttgart, September 18th, 1827.
-
-EDUARD MÖRIKE (1804-1875), born at Ludwigsburg, studied at Tübingen,
-was pastor at Keber-Sulzbach, near Heilbronn, then teacher at
-Stuttgart. He belonged to the Suabian school of poets, wrote verses and
-novels, among the latter, _Das Stuttgarter Hutzelmännlein_, _Iris_,
-_Idylle am Bodensee_, etc.
-
-FRIEDRICH THEODOR VON VISCHER (1807-1889), a celebrated writer on
-Æsthetics of the Hegelian school. He was born at Ludwigsburg, studied
-theology, and accepted a position as vicar at Harrheim. He went to
-Tübingen in 1833, and became first an extraordinary and then ordinary
-professor of æsthetics and German literature. On account of the too
-great liberality of his inaugural address he was at once suspended
-for two years. In 1848 he entered the Frankfort Parliament, where he
-occupied a position as an extreme radical. In 1855 he was called to the
-Polytechnical Institute at Zürich, and later filled a similar position
-at Stuttgart. Besides his greatest work, entitled _Æsthetics, or the
-Science of the Beautiful_, he wrote _The Sublime and the Comic_, and a
-third part to Goethe’s _Faust_, a parody of Goethe’s second part, as
-well as a great deal of prose and verse in a satirical and aphoristic
-vein, and many critical works on æsthetics.
-
-FRITZ REUTER (1810-1874), born at Stavenhagen, in Mecklenburg-Schwerin,
-studied law at Rostock, went to Jena in 1832 and joined the
-Burschenschaft, which was then in very ill favour with the strongly
-Conservative government as promulgating Liberal tendencies. He was
-imprisoned, and after being in custody a year was sentenced to death.
-This sentence was modified by the king to lifelong imprisonment. He
-was taken to Fort Dömitz, and remained there until 1840, when he was
-released in consequence of the Prussian amnesty. He took charge of his
-father’s estate at Stavenhagen, later going to Treptow as a tutor in
-a private family; later he devoted himself exclusively to literature
-at Neubrandenburg and then at Eisenach, where he died. His novels,
-comedies, and poems were all written in the Low-German dialect. Some of
-the best known are _Seed-Time and Harvest_, _Olle Kamellen_, _Ut mine
-Festungstid_ (Aus meiner Festungszeit), _Die Reis’na Constantinopel_.
-
-ERNST KOSSAK (1814-1880), born at Marienwerder, and died at Berlin.
-Wrote _Aus dem Wanderbuch eines litterarischen Handwerksburschen_,
-_Historietten_, _Berliner Silhouetten_, etc.
-
-GOTTFRIED KELLER (1815-1887), born at Zürich, took up
-landscape-painting, and went to Vienna to continue his art studies.
-Returning to his native town in 1842, he gave up painting and devoted
-himself entirely to literary pursuits. Receiving some pecuniary aid
-from the Zurich Senate, he went to Heidelberg in 1848, and to Berlin in
-1850, to study philosophy and dramaturgy. He then returned to Zürich.
-Among his novels, _Der grüne Heinrich_ and _Die Leute von Seldwyla_ are
-best known.
-
-FRIEDRICH WILHELM VON HACKLÄNDER (1816-1877), novelist and
-comedy-writer, born at Burtscheid, near Aachen. Entered the mercantile
-profession, left it for the army, which he soon found distasteful.
-Discovering a talent for story-telling, he wrote many novels and
-sketches about military life, and some more ambitious works of fiction,
-as _Europäisches Sklavenleben_.
-
-RICHARD VOLKMANN (_nom-de-plume_ Richard Leander), 1830-1891, son
-of the celebrated physiologist Alfred Wilhelm Volkmann, resided at
-Halle, in the office of President of the Chirurgical Hospital and
-Medical Professor at the University. Besides a number of scientific
-works he wrote _Poems_, _Aus der Burschenzeit_, and _Träumereien an
-französischen Kaminen_.
-
-HEINRICH SCHAUMBERGER (1843-1874), born at Neustadt-a-d-Heide, was a
-Common school-teacher; he was consumptive, and died at Davost. Wrote
-_Volkserzählungen_, _Vater und Sohn_, _Im Hirtenhaus_, etc.
-
-PETRI KETTENFEIER ROSEGGER, born at Alpl in Obersteiermark, in 1843. He
-was the son of peasants, and received only a most elementary education.
-Being too delicate for a yeoman, he was apprenticed to a tailor in
-his seventeenth year. During the time of his apprenticeship he became
-interested in books, and tried his hand at literature. The editor of a
-paper to whom he had sent some of his work became interested in him,
-and through his intercession he was admitted to the Mercantile Academy
-at Graz. He subsequently received a stipend enabling him to complete
-his education. He then went to Graz, where he edited a monthly magazine
-and devoted himself to literary work. His novels, under the title of
-_Ausgewählte Schriften_, comprising twenty-three volumes, are published
-at Vienna.
-
-WILHELM HEINRICH RIEHL, born 1823, at the little town of Biebrich on
-the Rhine. Studied at Marburg, Tübingen, Bonn, and Giessen. Edited
-several papers, and after having been made a member of the _Deutsche
-Nationalversammlung_ founded the _Nassauische Allgemeine Zeitung_,
-at the same time undertaking the musical management of the Wiesbaden
-Theatre. In 1854 he was made Professor of Jurisprudence and Science
-of Government at Munich. Later he became a member of the Academy of
-Science, and Director of the Bavarian National Museum. His books,
-published at Stuttgart, are mostly on historical subjects--_Civilised
-Society_, _Natural History of the German People_, etc.
-
-FRANZ VON SCHÖNTHAN, born at Vienna in 1849, entered the navy, which he
-left after four years to go on the stage. After having written a number
-of novels and comedies he was engaged as comedy-writer for the Wallner
-Theatre at Berlin. He subsequently filled a position at the Vienna
-Theatre.
-
-JULIUS STINDE, born 1841, at Kirch-Michel, in Holstein. Studied natural
-science. Occupied a position as chemist in a factory at Hamburg.
-Subsequently took charge of the Hamburg _Gewerbeblatt_, and devoted
-himself solely to literature, more especially to the popularisation
-of science. Later he wrote comedies in Low-German, which were very
-well received. Among his humorous writings, the _Familie Buchholz_ has
-contributed most to his international popularity.
-
-BOGUMIL GOLTZ (1801-1870), humorous and didactic writer, born at
-Warsaw; studied at Breslau. Bought several estates, in the management
-of which he was unsuccessful. Lost the greater part of his fortune and
-settled down at Thorn, to live the life of a literary recluse, though
-he often travelled. Wrote _Typen der Gesellschaft_, _Der Mensch und die
-Leute_, _Zur Physiognomie und Charakteristik des Volkes_, etc.
-
-EDUARD PÖTZL, born 1851, at Vienna. Editor of _Neues Wiener Tageblatt_.
-Wrote humorous novels and sketches, dealing with Vienna life and the
-Austrian courts of justice.
-
-PAUL LINDAU, born in 1839, at Magdeburg. Editor of the well-known
-review, _Nord und Süd_; dramatic writer. Lived at Paris for several
-years as a literary correspondent to a number of German papers.
-Founded the _Gegenwart_. Has written many dramas and novels in a vein
-of caustic satire and wit. Also well known as a translator of French
-comedies.
-
-ERNST ECKSTEIN, born 1845 at Giessen. Wrote many satirical epics and
-literary essays. Founded the humorous paper _Der Schalk_. Well known
-through his comedies and dramas, and as a prolific novelist.
-
-JULIUS STETTENHEIM, born at Hamburg, 1831, now living at Berlin. Editor
-of the _Wespen_ and of _Humoristisches Deutschland_. Wrote numberless
-_humoresques_, of which _Wippchen’s sämtliche Kriegsberichte_ is best
-known.
-
-JOHANNES SCHERR, born 1817, at Hohenrechberg. After studying at Zürich
-and Tübingen, he taught for a while at Stuttgart, and took a prominent
-part in Liberal politics. In 1849 he fled to Switzerland on account
-of political difficulties, and in 1860, after an interval of literary
-activity, was made Professor of History and Literature at Zürich. His
-most prominent works are a number of histories dealing with certain
-tendencies and developments of civilisation. He also wrote humorous and
-other stories.
-
-BABETTE VON BÜLOW (contemporary) writes under the _nom-de-plume_ of
-Hans Arnold. Born at Warmbrunn, in 1850. Has written a number of
-stories, the subjects being mostly of child-life.
-
-
-THE WALTER SCOTT PRESS, NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-_Cloth Elegant, Large Crown 8vo, Price ³⁄₆ per vol._
-
-INTERNATIONAL HUMOUR.
-
-EDITED BY W. H. DIRCKS.
-
-_Each Volume will contain from 50 to 70 Illustrations and from 350 to
-500 pages._
-
-
-IN each of these volumes the object will be to give an anthology
-of the humorous literature of the particular nation dealt with.
-France, Germany, Italy, Russia, Spain, and Holland will each have
-their respective volumes; England, Ireland, and Scotland will each
-be represented, as will also America and Japan. ‘From China to Peru’
-the globe will be traversed in search of its jokes, in so far as
-they have recorded themselves in literature. The word Humour admits
-of many interpretations; for the purposes of this Series it has been
-interpreted in its broadest generic sense, to cover humour in all its
-phases as it has manifested itself among the various nationalities.
-Necessarily founded on a certain degree of scholarly knowledge, these
-volumes, while appealing to the literary reader, will nevertheless, it
-is hoped, in the inherent attractiveness and variety of their contents,
-appeal successfully and at once to the interest of readers of all
-classes. Starting from the early periods of each literature--in Italy,
-for instance, from the fourteenth century, with Boccaccio, Sacchetti,
-and Parabosco; in France with the amusing Fabliaux of the thirteenth
-century; in Germany from Hans Sachs; characteristic sketches, stories,
-and extracts from contemporary European and other writers whose genius
-is especially that of humour or _esprit_ will be given. Indicating and
-suggesting a view and treatment of national life from a particular
-standpoint, each volume will contain matter suggestive of the
-development of a special and important phase of national spirit and
-character,--namely, the humorous. Proverbs and maxims, folk-wit, and
-folk-tales notable for their pith and humour, will have their place;
-the eccentricities of modern newspaper humour will not be overlooked.
-Each volume will be well and copiously illustrated; in many cases
-artists of the nationalities of the literatures represented will
-illustrate the volumes. To each volume will be prefixed an Introduction
-critically disengaging and marking the qualities and phases of the
-national humour dealt with; and to each will be appended Notes,
-biographical and explanatory.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-INTERNATIONAL HUMOUR.
-
-_Cloth Elegant, Large Crown 8vo, Price ³⁄₆ per vol._
-
-Among the early Volumes will be the following:--
-
-
-THE HUMOUR OF FRANCE. Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by
-Elizabeth Lee. With numerous Illustration by Paul Frénzeny.
-
-THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY. Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by
-Hans Müller-Casenov. With numerous Illustrations by C. E. Brock.
-
-THE HUMOUR OF ITALY. Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by A.
-Werner. With 50 Illustrations and a Frontispiece by Arturo Faldi.
-
-THE HUMOUR OF RUSSIA. Translated, with Notes, by E. L. Boole, and an
-Introduction by Stepniak. With 50 Illustrations by Paul Frénzeny.
-
-THE HUMOUR OF HOLLAND. Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by
-A. Werner. With Numerous Illustrations.
-
-THE HUMOUR OF SPAIN. Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by S.
-Taylor. With numerous Illustrations.
-
-THE HUMOUR OF AMERICA. Edited, with an Introduction and Notes, by J.
-Barr (of the _Detroit Free Press_). With numerous Illustrations by C.
-E. Brock.
-
-To be followed by volumes representative of ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, IRELAND,
-JAPAN, etc. The Series will be complete in about twelve volumes.
-
-
-LONDON: WALTER SCOTT, LTD., 24 WARWICK LANE.
-
-
-SPECIMEN ILLUSTRATION.
-
-[Illustration: DOCTOR DECHAR: “AND YET YOU DECLARED THE OPERATION MUST
-BE DONE?”
-
-DOCTOR RAPPASS: “OF COURSE. YOU MUST ALWAYS OPERATE.”]
-
-
-LONDON: WALTER SCOTT, LTD., 24 WARWICK LANE.
-
-
-
-
-_AUTHORIZED VERSION._
-
-_Crown 8vo, Cloth, Price 6s._
-
-PEER GYNT: A Dramatic Poem. BY HENRIK IBSEN.
-
-TRANSLATED BY WILLIAM AND CHARLES ARCHER.
-
-_This Translation, though unrhymed, preserves throughout the various
-rhythms of the original._
-
-
-“In _Brand_ the hero is an embodied protest against the poverty
-of spirit and half-heartedness that Ibsen rebelled against in his
-countrymen. In _Peer Gynt_ the hero is himself the embodiment of that
-spirit. In _Brand_ the fundamental antithesis, upon which, as its
-central theme, the drama is constructed, is the contrast between the
-spirit of compromise on the one hand, and the motto ‘everything or
-nothing’ on the other. And _Peer Gynt_ is the very incarnation of a
-compromising dread of decisive committal to any one course. In _Brand_
-the problem of self-realisation and the relation of the individual
-to his surroundings is obscurely struggling for recognition, and in
-_Peer Gynt_ it becomes the formal theme upon which all the fantastic
-variations of the drama are built up. In both plays alike the problems
-of heredity and the influence of early surroundings are more than
-touched upon; and both alike culminate in the doctrine that the only
-redeeming power on earth or in heaven is the power of love.”--Mr. P. H.
-WICKSTEED.
-
-
-London: WALTER SCOTT, LIMITED, 24 Warwick Lane.
-
-
-
-
-_Foolscap 8vo, Cloth, Price 3s. 6d._
-
-THE INSPECTOR-GENERAL (Or “REVIZÓR.”)
-
-A RUSSIAN COMEDY.
-
-BY NIKOLAI VASILIYEVICH GOGOL.
-
-Translated from the original Russian, with Introduction and Notes, by
-A. A. SYKES, B.A., Trinity College, Cambridge.
-
-
-Though one of the most brilliant and characteristic of Gogol’s works,
-and well-known on the Continent, the present is the first translation
-of his _Revizór_, or Inspector-General, which has appeared in English.
-A satire on Russian administrative functionaries, the _Revizór_ is a
-comedy marked by continuous gaiety and invention, full of “situation,”
-each development of the story accentuating the satire and emphasising
-the characterisation, the whole play being instinct with life and
-interest. Every here and there occurs the note of caprice, of
-naïveté, of unexpected fancy, characteristically Russian. The present
-translation will be found to be admirably fluent, idiomatic, and
-effective.
-
-
-London: WALTER SCOTT, LIMITED, 24 Warwick Lane.
-
-
-
-
-IBSEN’S FAMOUS PROSE DRAMAS.
-
-EDITED BY WILLIAM ARCHER.
-
-Complete in Five Vols. Crown 8vo, Cloth, Price ³⁄₆ each. Set of Five
-Vols., in Case, ¹⁷⁄₆; in Half Morocco, in Case, ³²⁄₆.
-
-“_We seem at last to be shown men and women as they are; and at first
-it is more than we can endure.... All Ibsen’s characters speak and act
-as if they were hypnotised, and under their creator’s imperious demand
-to reveal themselves. There never was such a mirror held up to nature
-before: it is too terrible.... Yet we must return to Ibsen, with his
-remorseless surgery, his remorseless electric-light, until we, too,
-have grown strong and learned to face the naked--if necessary, the
-flayed and bleeding--reality._”--SPEAKER (London).
-
-VOL. I. “A DOLL’S HOUSE,” “THE LEAGUE OF YOUTH,” and “THE PILLARS OF
-SOCIETY.” With Portrait of the Author, and Biographical Introduction by
-WILLIAM ARCHER.
-
-VOL. II. “GHOSTS,” “AN ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE,” and “THE WILD DUCK.” With
-an Introductory Note.
-
-VOL. III. “LADY INGER OF ÖSTRÅT,” “THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND,” “THE
-PRETENDERS.” With an Introductory Note and Portrait of Ibsen.
-
-VOL. IV. “EMPEROR AND GALILEAN.” With an Introductory Note by WILLIAM
-ARCHER.
-
-VOL. V. “ROSMERSHOLM,” “THE LADY FROM THE SEA,” “HEDDA GABLER.”
-Translated by WILLIAM ARCHER. With an Introductory Note.
-
-The sequence of the plays _in each volume_ is chronological; the
-complete set of volumes comprising the dramas thus presents them in
-chronological order.
-
-“The art of prose translation does not perhaps enjoy a very high
-literary status in England, but we have no hesitation in numbering
-the present version of Ibsen, so far as it has gone (Vols. I.
-and II.), among the very best achievements, in that kind, of our
-generation.”--_Academy._
-
-“We have seldom, if ever, met with a translation so absolutely
-idiomatic.”--_Glasgow Herald._
-
-
-LONDON: WALTER SCOTT, LIMITED, 24 WARWICK LANE.
-
-
-
-
-Crown 8vo, about 350 pp. each, Cloth Cover, 2s. 6d per vol.
-
-Half-polished Morocco, gilt top, 5s.
-
-COUNT TOLSTOÏ’S WORKS.
-
-The following Volumes are already issued--
-
-
-  A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR.
-  THE COSSACKS.
-  IVAN ILYITCH, AND OTHER STORIES.
-  MY RELIGION.
-  LIFE.
-  MY CONFESSION.
-  CHILDHOOD, BOYHOOD, YOUTH.
-  THE PHYSIOLOGY OF WAR.
-  ANNA KARÉNINA. 3s. 6d.
-  WHAT TO DO?
-  WAR AND PEACE. (4 VOLS.)
-  THE LONG EXILE, AND OTHER STORIES FOR CHILDREN.
-  SEVASTOPOL.
-  THE KREUTZER SONATA, AND FAMILY. HAPPINESS.
-
-
-Uniform with the above.
-
-IMPRESSIONS OF RUSSIA.
-
-BY DR. GEORG BRANDES.
-
-
-London: WALTER SCOTT, LIMITED, 24 Warwick Lane.
-
-
-
-
-NEW TWO-VOLUME SETS, IN NEW BROCADE BINDING.
-
-_4s. PER SET, IN SHELL CASE TO MATCH._
-
-
-  MALORY’S HISTORY OF KING ARTHUR        2 Vols.
-
-  ENGLISH FAIRY TALES                }
-  IRISH FAIRY TALES                  }     ”
-
-  HEINE’S PROSE                      }
-  HEINE’S TRAVEL-SKETCHES            }     ”
-
-  WHITE’S SELBORNE                   }
-  MITFORD’S OUR VILLAGE              }     ”
-
-  WHITMAN’S SPECIMEN DAYS            }
-  WHITMAN’S DEMOCRATIC VISTAS        }     ”
-
-
-London: WALTER SCOTT, LIMITED, 24 Warwick Lane.
-
-
-
-
-NEW EDITION IN NEW BINDING.
-
-In the new edition there are added about forty reproductions In
-fac-simile of autographs of distinguished singers and instrumentalists,
-including Sarasate, Joachim, Sir Charles Hallé, Paderewsky,
-Stavenhagen, Henschel, Trebelli, Miss Macintyre, Jean Gérardy, etc.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-_Quarto, cloth elegant, gilt edges, emblematic design on cover, 6s. May
-also be had in a variety of Fancy Bindings._
-
-
-THE MUSIC OF THE POETS: A MUSICIANS’ BIRTHDAY BOOK.
-
-EDITED BY ELEONORE D’ESTERRE KEELING.
-
-THIS is a unique Birthday Book. Against each date are given the names
-of musicians whose birthday it is, together with a verse-quotation
-appropriate to the character of their different compositions
-or performances. A special feature of the book consists in the
-reproduction in fac-simile of autographs, and autographic music, of
-living composers. Three sonnets by Mr. Theodore Watts, on the “Fausts”
-of Berlioz, Schumann, and Gounod, have been written specially for this
-volume. It is illustrated with designs of various musical instruments,
-etc.; autographs of Rubenstein, Dvorâk, Greig, Mackenzie, Villiers
-Stanford, etc., etc.
-
-
-London: WALTER SCOTT, LTD., 24 Warwick Lane.
-
-
-FOOTNOTES:
-
-[1] Scaramuccio and Pierrot represent species of buffoons of the early
-theatre.--ED.
-
-[2] This was a thrust at Göttingen, which town Heine here couples with
-six others, notorious as the local scenes in comic literature.
-
-[3] The name of a gigantic cask of wine of 1624, one of the special
-sights of the Bremen Rathskeller. It is tapped only on great occasions,
-and in 1870 the town of Bremen sent a number of bottles of this wine to
-the Emperor William and Prince Bismarck at Versailles, as a valuable
-gift of honour.--ED.
-
-[4] The Devil is the speaker.
-
-[5] Even at the present day persons conspicuously marked in a student’s
-fray are not allowed to enter the theological profession, unless there
-is a fair prospect that the scar may be hidden under a prospective
-beard.
-
-[6] The Duke was a pronounced woman-hater, and objected most vehemently
-to the contraction of marriages by persons in any way connected with
-his little court. The Konrektor intended to profit by this interview
-as a means of influencing the Duke in favour of a young runner who had
-been imprisoned for the crime of making love.
-
-[7] Reuter and his companions were at this time political prisoners at
-the fort of Dömitz, in Mecklenburg, his sentence of death having been
-converted into one of thirty years’ imprisonment.
-
-[8] In a previous number of the _Salon_ Lindau had published a keenly
-satirical article on Professor Minckwitz’s writings, culminating in
-a parody on his style, entitled, “The Death of a Youthful Hero,” and
-purporting to be an extract from the professor’s epic poem.
-
-[9] A modern German Literature written by Professor Minckwitz.
-
-[10] Vulgar for Nichto, nothing.
-
-[11] _Carcer_, a place of imprisonment common to German gymnasiums and
-universities.
-
-[12] A small town near Berlin.
-
-
-
-
-Corrections
-
-p. 40
-
-  FRAU MONGENROTH.
-  FRAU MORGENROTH.
-
-p. 165
-
-  toward Neu-Bradenburg,
-  toward Neu-Brandenburg,
-
-p. 168
-
-  “_Oh, thou monster!_” said Langwickel
-  “_Oh, thou monster!_” said Langnickel
-
-p. 246
-
-  Barbara walked slowly away to make up the beds in the _refenetle_.
-  Barbara walked slowly away to make up the beds in the _rafenetle_.
-
-p. 318
-
- It is unnecessay to say anything
- It is unnecessary to say anything
-
-p. 373
-
-  could scarcely he regarded
-  could scarcely be regarded
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY ***
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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The humour of Germany, by Hans Müller-Casenov</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
-at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The humour of Germany</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Authors: Hans Müller-Casenov</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em;'>Bertha Antoinetta Johanna Müller</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Editor: W. H. (William Henry) Dircks</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: C. E. (Charles Edmund) Brock</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: November 25, 2022 [eBook #69421]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
-  <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: MFR, Eleni Christofaki and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY ***</div>
-
-<div class="transnote"><h3>Transcriber’s note</h3>
-
-<p>Variable spelling and hyphenation have been retained. Minor punctuation
-inconsistencies have been silently repaired. A list of the changes made
-can be found<a href="#Corrections"> at the end of the book</a>.</p></div>
-
-<div class="chapter"><h1>THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY.</h1></div>
-<div class="sync">&#160;</div>
-<div class="figcenter illowp50" id="frontcover" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/frontcover.jpg" alt="cover">
-</div>
-<hr>
-<p class="center">
-<i>INTERNATIONAL HUMOUR.</i></p>
-<p class="center bt">
-<span class="smcap">Edited by</span> W. H. DIRCKS.</p>
-<p class="center p4">
-THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY.
-</p>
-
-<hr>
-<div class="figcenter illowp50" id="i_frontis" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_frontis.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“HE WAS TOO FOND OF DELIVERING LONG SPEECHES AT THE ALEHOUSE.”
-
-<span class="floatr">[<i>See page <a href="#Page_410">410</a>.</i></span></div>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<div class="sync">&#160;</div>
-<div class="figcenter illowp46" id="i_title" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="">
-</div>
-<hr>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="small">THE</span><br>
-HUMOUR OF GERMANY</p>
-
-<div class="sync">&#160;</div>
-<div class="left"><p class="noin">SELECTED AND TRANSLATED,
-WITH INTRODUCTION AND
-BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX, BY
-HANS MÜLLER-CASENOV:
-WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
-C. E. BROCK.</p></div>
-
-<div class="rightcol">
-  <img src="images/i_titlealt.jpg" alt="decoration" class="figright">
-
-</div>
-<div class="sync">&#160;</div>
-
-<div class="left"><p class="noin center">LONDON<br> 1892</p></div>
-<div class="rightcol"><p class="noin center">WALTER SCOTT<br> LTD. </p></div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<table>
-
-<tr><th>&#160;</th><th><span class="allsmcap">PAGE</span></th></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Introduction</span></td> <td><a href="#Page_xi">xi</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Master Fox, the Confessor</span>—<i>Hugo von Trimberg</i>
-(1260-1309)</td> <td><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">St. Peter’s Lesson</span>—<i>Hans Sachs</i> (1494-1576)</td> <td><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Raid on the Parson’s Kitchen</span>—<i>Christoffel von
-Grimmelshausen</i> (1620-1676)</td> <td><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Revolt in the Theatre</span>—<i>Ludwig Tieck</i> (1773-1853)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Unaccountable Stranger</span>—<i>Ludwig Tieck</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Van der Kabel’s Last Will and Testament</span>—<i>Jean Paul
-Friedrich Richter</i> (1763-1825)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Division of Labour in Matters Sentimental</span>—<i>Jean Paul
-Friedrich Richter</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Tender-Hearted Critic</span>—<i>Jean Paul Friedrich Richter</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Accident of the Distinguished Stranger</span>—<i>August von
-Kotzebue</i> (1761-1819)</td> <td><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">How the Vicar came Around</span>—<i>Heinrich Zschokke</i>
-(1771-1848)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_49">49</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Man who Sold his Shadow</span>—<i>A. von Chamisso</i>
-(1781-1838)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Ghost of Dr. Ascher</span>—<i>Heinrich Heine</i> (1799-1856)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Tourists at the Brocken</span>—<i>Heinrich Heine</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">My Appreciative Friend</span>—<i>Heinrich Heine</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td>“<span class="smcap">Madam, Do you Know the old Play?</span>”—<i>Heinrich Heine</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Verses from Heine</span></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">About Money</span>—<i>M. G. Saphir</i> (1795-1858)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Night in the Bremer Rathskeller</span>—<i>Wilhelm Hauff</i>
-(1802-1827)</td> <td><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Duel with the Devil</span>—<i>Wilhelm Hauff</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Editorial Co-operation</span>—<i>Wilhelm Hauff</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_130">130</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Mozart’s Journey to Prague</span>—<i>Edward Mörike</i> (1804-1875)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Rabid Philosopher (Auch Einer)</span>—<i>Friedrich Theodor v.
-Vischer</i> (1807-1889)</td> <td><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">His Serenity will build a Palace</span>—<i>Fritz Reuter</i>
-(1810-1874)</td> <td><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">His Serenity and the Thunder-storm</span>—<i>Fritz Reuter</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Lieutenant’s Dinner</span>—<i>Fritz Reuter</i></td> <td><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Higher Altruism</span>—<i>Fritz Reuter</i></td> <td><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">My Pictures</span>—<i>Fritz Reuter</i></td> <td><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Liszt expected at an Evening Party</span>—<i>E. Kossak</i>
-(1814-1880)</td> <td><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Prince in Disguise</span>—<i>Gottfried Keller</i> (1815-1887)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_196">196</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[ix]</span></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Disreputable Saint</span>—<i>Gottfried Keller</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Military Inspection</span>—<i>F. W. Hackländer</i> (1816-1877)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The King of Maccaroonia</span>—<i>Professor Volkmann</i> (1830-1891)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Sad Tale of Seven Kisses</span>—<i>Professor Volkman</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_232">232</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Country Comedy</span>—<i>Heinrich Schaumberger</i> (1843-1874)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">How Blindschleicher went Courting</span>—<i>P. K. Rosegger</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td>“<span class="smcap">Whom First we Love</span>”—<i>H. von Kahlenberg</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_255">255</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Wooing the Gallows</span>—<i>W. H. Riehl</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_261">261</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Elective Affinities</span>—<i>Franz von Schönthan</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Hot Punch</span>—<i>Julius Stinde</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_281">281</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Woman</span>—<i>Bogumil Golz</i> (1801-1870)</td>
-<td><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Christmas Tale</span>—<i>Eduard Pötzl</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Case of Minckwitz</span>—<i>Paul Lindau</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Students’ Songs</span>—</td><td>&#160;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td class="tdc"><span class="smcap">Old Assyrian-Jonah</span>—<i>Joseph Victor Scheffel</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td class="tdc"><span class="smcap">Heinz von Stein</span></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_305">305</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td class="tdc"><span class="smcap">Brigand Song</span></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_306">306</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td class="tdc"><span class="smcap">A Farthing and a Sixpence</span>—<i>Count Albert von Schlippenbach</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_307">307</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td class="tdc"><span class="smcap">The Teutoburger Battle</span>—<i>J. V. Scheffel</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_308">308</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td class="tdc"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[x]</span><span class="smcap">The Last Pair of Breeches</span>—<i>J. V. Scheffel</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_311">311</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td class="tdc"><span class="smcap">Enderle von Ketsch</span>—<i>J. V. Scheffel</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_313">313</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td class="tdc"><span class="smcap">God and the Lover</span>—<i>Old German</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Unintentional Witticisms of the Absent-minded German Professor</span></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_317">317</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Incarceration of the Herr Professor</span>—<i>Ernst Eckstein</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Our War-Correspondent</span>—<i>Julius Stettenheim</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_335">335</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Schnorps’ Swallow-Tail</span>—<i>Fritz Brentano</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_339">339</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Man of Order</span>—<i>Johannes Scherr</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_352">352</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Luxury of Going about Incognito</span>—<i>Hans Arnold</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_359">359</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Inner Life of the Second-Class Cab-Driver</span>—<i>Ernst von
-Wildenbruch</i></td> <td><a href="#Page_382">382</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Bon-Mots</span></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_404">404</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Early Days of a Genius</span>—<i>Wilhelm Raabe</i></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_408">408</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Newspaper Humour</span></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_423">423</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Biographical Index of Writers</span></td>
-<td><a href="#Page_431">431</a></td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">[xi]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">In</span> endeavouring to bring together examples of so significant and
-at the same time elusive a phase of national character—literary
-as well as psychological—as a nation’s humour, it were of course
-vain to seek to make each selection typical in itself—typical,
-that is, in the sense of referring to the broad basis of a nation’s
-individuality in respect of its humour as distinguished from
-other nations.</p>
-
-<p>A general idea can only be obtained by scanning a broad
-field; here, as elsewhere, details have little meaning unless
-considered in their relation to the broader outlook. A constant
-interplay of varied influences has to be taken into account.
-The purely national aspect is obtruded upon by the individuality
-of each author, which nowhere expresses with
-such effect as in the literature of humour. The <i>time</i> of
-writing, considered historically, with its political tendencies,
-has also to be considered; its church dependence perhaps,
-and the peculiar trend of its social interests. It is intruded
-upon also by the time considered in its relation to literature as
-a whole, to the tendencies of form and style predominant at
-given periods.</p>
-
-<p>Furthermore, there are strictly <i>local</i> peculiarities, subdividing
-Germany itself. It is more especially these that the
-student of literature, unless he be also a student of ethnological
-influences, is likely to wrongly estimate, while it is of the
-utmost importance that they be borne in mind to arrive at a just
-view of qualities that oversway minor differences, which are
-often the first to catch the eye. The more the Comic Muse is
-bound within the narrow limits of place, time, and personality,
-the more is she in her element. She of all muses is a painter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">[xii]</span>
-of detail, versed in the art of reproducing punctiliously those
-petty traits which disengage her subject from all broader
-problems, and make it effective in proportion to its <i>unimportance</i>
-to the world’s general affairs.</p>
-
-<p>Writers upon the theory of humour are apt to deplore the
-absence of just such local land-marks in Germany as are
-strongly characteristic and still recognisable to the foreigner.
-It would appear to me that they have done so with some
-injustice. The <i>Volkscharacter</i> of southern and northern Germany,
-of the lowlands, and the Franco-Bavarian and Suabian
-districts, even of the various centres of civilisation, the large
-towns, is abundant in those differentiating qualities which go
-to make up originality of manner. The modes of thought
-and feeling characterising the population of different districts
-bear a stamp so distinct that one is inclined to consider them
-more strongly marked by provincial locality than by nationality.</p>
-
-<p>In these days dialect proper, having gained the prestige of
-comparative rarity, like a peasant’s national costume, or a bit
-of <i>bric-à-brac</i>, has been favoured by the humorist, although its
-reproduction in our literature has well-nigh insurmountable
-difficulties to cope with. The Low German, one of the most
-interesting of German dialects, because, historically, the most
-intact, and the most incapable of amalgamation with the
-language that has superseded it, had been left to grow rusty so
-far as literature was concerned, until Fritz Reuter rescued it
-from threatening oblivion, and made it the vehicle of a naïve
-and spontaneous <i>genre</i> of humour, to which it lent itself with
-singular charm and appropriateness.</p>
-
-<p>The cause of the former neglect of Low German as a means
-of literary expression was very obvious, and there was no gainsaying
-the justice of it—viz., that it is used to-day only by the
-lower classes of Northern Germany, and that among readers
-there is but a very limited number to whom it is more comprehensible
-than a foreign language would be. It is this fact
-also which explains why Fritz Reuter, the most intimate and
-sympathetic of German humorists, although extensively read,
-has never attained the widest popularity.</p>
-
-<p>Fundamentally, the German character appears to be averse to
-humour. Its mirth does not come to it spontaneously, a gift<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</span>
-of the gods, arising out of the mere exuberance of being. This
-nation shares the temperament of all northern races, it moves
-more to the minor strains of feeling, to the <i>Adagio</i> which
-Richard Wagner found so aptly expressive of its character. It
-is quick to respond to things mystic, and yearns over the vague
-grace of twilight moods. It worships at the shrine of the
-hapless Prince of Denmark.—I say fundamentally, for, looking
-at the life of the nation as it appears to-day, in those pleasures
-of the lower and middle classes which have their scene of action
-in the out-of-door world, there would appear to be in plenty a
-spirit of merry-making and pleasure-seeking inherent in the
-German character. The mere primitive love of a good time,
-however, is inseparably connected with those classes representing,
-in a manner, a child-like stage of intellectual development
-the world over, and is not characteristic in any special
-sense of the German people.</p>
-
-<p>It is safe to admit that a certain lightness of disposition,
-which seems indispensable to the humorous attitude, is absent
-among those race-qualities which go to make up the German
-nature pure and simple. If the nation has developed within
-itself those germs which have blossomed into a sense of the
-humorous; if it has passed through all those early stages of perception
-and expression which have culminated in a humorous
-literature of sturdy strength; if it has found at length a
-humorous literature (with Gottfried Keller for its prophet, and
-F. T. Vischer for its critic and exponent), it is due probably to
-a complexity of influences somewhat difficult to determine.</p>
-
-<p>However free in its purely literary aspect humour may be
-from all ulterior purpose and aim, the tale of its growth with
-us is largely interwoven with impulses received from outside
-sources and sources didactic and philosophical. Outwitting
-the devil, the theme that recurs again and again as the oldest
-form of farcical expression in mediæval Germany, meant dealing
-with the stresses of adverse circumstance. This was the first
-step taken on the road to humour in Germany. The Powers
-of Evil had all the brute force upon their side; there was no
-coping with them, except by sharpening one’s wits and irritating
-them by practical jokes until they might yield. The laugh
-that followed had all the hard ring of the victor’s triumphant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiv">[xiv]</span>
-scorn. Early satirical writings were imbued with a like spirit.
-There was the lash to be swung at some enemy, and derision
-at his downfall was tempered by no kindlier emotion. There
-was a grim attitude of self-defence throughout it all. Indeed,
-it is only in going back painfully step by step that one is
-enabled to discern in this early literature the germs of humour
-at all.</p>
-
-<p>The farces and puppet-shows at country fairs and the
-burlesques at the early theatre began to make room for the
-idea of retaliation. It became a question of clown against
-clown. The supremacy was never yielded long to one
-side. Laying aside all personal interest in the matter for
-the time being, there was an impartial shout of laughter at
-him who got the most kicks and cuffs. The popular
-mind began to rise above the situation, to put itself in the
-position of an unbiassed spectator, and to take delight in merely
-putting down whatever asserted itself. As an instance of this
-may be counted the practice of granting the devil, or a person
-disguised as such, a hearing in church on certain days of the
-year instead of the parish priest.</p>
-
-<p>Then the sense of discrepancy between things great and small,
-things important and unimportant, the world of the senses and
-the world of the spirit, began to enter the popular perception,
-the impossibility of reconciliation, and, as a consequence, the
-pleasure of turning this world topsy-turvy, and so demonstrating
-the supremacy of the individual.</p>
-
-<p>Side by side with this development, or partly perhaps
-based upon it, went the philosophic development. Thinkers,
-dreamers, and philosophers went on constructing a universe
-according to the laws of their individual minds, a universe
-containing nothing at all to be laughed at, and for many
-decades scholars were deeply buried in obstruse problems
-and finely-spun theories and systems, the lighter muse of
-poetry and art for the most part following but humbly and
-timorously from afar. But when philosophy and theology had
-spoken at large, and the mystery and fatal contradiction at the
-heart of things had not been unravelled, the pale brooding of
-some turned to melancholy, with others it turned to boisterous
-living and philosophic indifferentism.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xv">[xv]</span></p>
-
-<p>Then it was that irony, directed upon the inordinate intellectual
-ambitions of man, removed him half imperceptibly
-into the sphere of the ludicrous. Self-irony may be the result
-of misanthropy, but it is certainly the beginning of a cure.
-One finds oneself to be made up of two absurdly contradicting
-hemispheres, as well as the rest of the world; the sense of the
-universal incongruity seems to make the case less tragic. To
-pass through this stage into the clearer atmosphere of conscious
-reconciliation with the actuality of things, of placid
-acceptance of the ups and downs, the shortcomings inherent
-in things, and in human nature withal,—into the atmosphere
-of pure humour, unperturbed by the possibility of personal
-disappointment, is a long step, easy to some, to others impossible.
-And it would seem that German Humour—taking
-the term in its widest sense as signifying subjective
-apprehension on the one hand and artistic expression on
-the other—is less the result of a temperamental predisposition
-than the culmination of a development. With a turn for
-flaccid sentimentalism, and by nature inclined to take themselves
-very seriously, it was a reaction, a bankruptcy in metaphysical
-methods that inaugurated and established something
-of a humorous <i>Weltanschauung</i>. The often oppressively heavy
-<i>Zeitgeist</i> has borne along its own corrective in the literature
-of two centuries as on an ever-strengthening under-current.
-There have been silent forces at play working imperceptibly
-through the innate robustness of the national character. It
-was this undeniable robustness which could not for long
-brook the extravagancies of weak emotionalism. Revolt was
-opened upon it on the one hand by the spirit of exact science,
-on the other by the need of æsthetic equilibrium. These two
-tendencies, the æsthetic and the scientific, are still contending
-for the field with much ado and bustle in some quarters.</p>
-
-<p>Though a nation counting Heine and Lichtenberg among its
-own, it is not in the <i>spielende Urtheil</i>, as Jean Paul has called
-inspired sallies of wit, that German humour specially distinguishes
-itself; now and again there it has its moods of
-riotous absurdity; but where it is most characteristic is in the
-telling of the humorous tale, lovingly handled in its details, the
-pathetic verging very near upon the comic, finally succumbing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvi">[xvi]</span>
-in a ripple of good-natured laughter at somebody or other who
-is really not so very bad, but only very human, and for whose
-misfortunes—poor devil!—we may have a kindly feeling. Then
-we have a mastership in spectral stories, uncanny and imaginative,
-leaving the reader’s mind in a delightful condition of doubt
-as to their actual meaning and significance; and we have also
-the expression of the spirit of poetic adventure,—a determination
-to have fun at all hazards, either <i>with</i> the public or else
-<i>at</i> the public, if perchance it should prove too dull to be taken
-into partnership. There is much of this in Chamisso’s <i>Peter
-Schlemihl</i>, which, in the face of many dizzy structures of elucidation
-that have been based upon it, remains so truly humorous
-and so profoundly touching.</p>
-
-<p>It is by no means always the <i>funny</i> element that predominates
-in German writings of a humorous tendency. Their office
-seems to be more to suggest the effect which these lighter
-moods of fancy have upon the serious affairs of life, and in
-studying the humour of Germany in a spirit of literary criticism
-it is indispensable to take these two aspects in their action and
-reaction upon each other. There is a psychical development
-of the individual which runs parallel to that of the nation. In
-confirmation of the theory of humorous development here
-faintly outlined, it may be said that in Germany, humorous
-perception is for the most part not the possession of youth. It
-is not until the need of a corrective to a habit of speculative
-brooding has been felt that imperceptibly and unconsciously
-healthful minds rise to those dispassionate heights whence the
-Occidental Brahmin gazes upon a motley world.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-HANS MÜLLER-CASENOV.
-</p>
-
-<p class="p2 center">[<i>For Acknowledgments to Authors and Publishers,
-see page <a href="#NOTE">430</a>.</i>]</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="large">THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY.</span></p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak"><i>MASTER FOX, THE CONFESSOR.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HEY overtook the Ass, and so</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">All three to Rome together go.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And when they saw the city near,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The Wolf said to his cousin dear:</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Reynard, my plan I’ll name to you:—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The Pope, we know, has much to do;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I doubt if he can spend his time</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">To hear our catalogues of crime.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">’Twill spare some trouble for the Pope</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">(And also for ourselves, I hope,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">As we may ’scape with penance less),</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">If to each other we confess.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Let each describe his greatest sin,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">So, without preface, I’ll begin.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">To notice trifles I disdain;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But one fact gives my conscience pain.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">’Tis this—there dwelt beside the Rhine</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">A man who lived by feeding swine.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">He had a sow who rambled wide</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">While all her pigs with hunger cried.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I punished her in such a way</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">That never more she went astray.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Her little ones, deserted now,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Oft moved my pity, I’ll avow;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I ended all their woes one night—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Now let my punishment be light!”</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Well,” said the Fox, “your sin was small,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And hardly can for penance call;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">For such a venial transgression</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">You’ve made amends by this confession.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And now I’ll do as you have done—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Of all my sins I’ll name but one:</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">A man such noisy fowls would keep,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">That no one near his house could sleep;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The crowings of his chanticleer</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Disturbed the country far and near.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Distracted by the noise, one night</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I went and stopped his crowing quite.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But this feat ended not the matter—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The hens began to crow and chatter;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And so (the deed I slightly rue)</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I killed them and their chickens too.”</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Well,” said the Wolf, “to hush that din</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Was surely no alarming sin;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Abstain from poultry for three days,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And, if you like, amend your ways.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But now the Ass must be confessed.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Donkey! how far have you transgressed?”</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Ah!” said the Ass, with dismal bray,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“You know I have not much to say;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">For I have toiled from day to day,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And done for master service good,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">In carrying water, corn, and wood.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But once, in winter time, ’tis true,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I did what I perhaps must rue:</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">A countryman, to keep him warm</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">(We had just then a snowy storm),</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Had put some straw into his shoes;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">To bite it I could not refuse;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And so (for hunger was my law)</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I took, or stole, a single straw.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“There! say no more!” the Fox exclaimed;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“For want of straw that man was lamed;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">His feet were bitten by the frost;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">’Tis probable his life was lost.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">’Twas theft and murder.—No reply!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Your penance is, that you must die.”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Hugo von Trimberg</i> (1260-1309).
-</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp85" id="i_002_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_002.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“BUT NOW THE ASS MUST BE CONFESSED.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp66" id="i_004_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_004.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“THE GOAT RUNS ON AND NEVER TIRES.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak"><i>ST. PETER’S LESSON.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE young goat had a playful mind,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And never liked to be confined;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The apostle, at a killing pace,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Followed the goat, in a desperate chase;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Over the hills and among the briers</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The goat runs on and never tires,</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span>
-    <div class="verse indent0">While Peter, behind, on the grassy plain,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Runs on, panting and sighing, in vain.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">All day, beneath a scorching sun,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The good apostle had to run</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Till evening came; the goat was caught,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And safely to the Master brought.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then, with a smile, to Peter said</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The Lord: “Well, friend, how have you sped;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">If such a task your powers has tried,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">How could you keep the world, so wide?”</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then Peter, with his toil distressed,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">His folly, with a sigh, confessed.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“No, Master! ’tis for me no play</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">To rule one goat for one short day;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">It must be infinitely worse</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">To regulate the universe.”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Hans Sachs</i> (1494-1576).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">A RAID ON
-THE PARSON’S
-KITCHEN.</h2>
-</div>
-<p>
-  <img src="images/i_006first.jpg" width="596" height="408" class="splitl" alt="illusfirst">
-  <img src="images/i_006second.jpg" width="352" height="365" class="splitl" alt="illussecond">
-</p>
-<p> <img src="images/i_006.jpg" width="600" height="813" class="figcenterepub" alt="illus"></p>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE commandant
-at Soest looked
-at me with approval,
-and said, “Tut, little
-huntsman, you shall be
-my servant, and wait
-upon my horses.”</p>
-
-<p>“Sir,” I replied, “I
-should prefer a master
-in whose service the horses wait upon me. As it is not
-likely I shall find such a one, I am going to be a soldier.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hoity-toity,” he said, “you have no more hair on your
-lip than a tree-frog. You are too young.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Oh, no,” I replied, “I will venture to brave any man
-of eighty. The beard does not make a man, else the
-he-goats would be in high esteem.”</p>
-
-<p>He said, “If you can show courage as well as you can
-wag your tongue, so be it.”</p>
-
-<p>I answered, “The first opportunity shall furnish the
-proof.”</p>
-
-<p>And so the commandant made over to me my dragoon’s
-old trousers, in which my master had sewed a goodly
-number of ducats. Out of their vitals I provided myself
-with a good horse and the best fire-arms I could get; I
-thereupon polished up my belongings to their utmost
-possibility of brightness. I got me a new suit of green,
-for I delighted in the name of “huntsman,” and gave my
-old garments to my boy, as they had grown too short and
-too tight for me. I sat on my horse like a young nobleman,
-and did not think small beer of myself. I took
-special delight in decorating my hat with a smart bunch
-of feathers like an officer. There were enough to envy
-me, and soon words and blows were the order of the
-day. But no sooner had I given proof to two of my
-enemies as to the nature of the thrusts I was skilled in,
-than I was left in peace, and my friendship was much
-sought for. In our raids upon the enemy I threw myself
-forward like bubbles in a boiling kettle, to be always the
-first in the fight. Whenever it was my good fortune to
-lay hands upon a desirable bit of pillage I shared it freely
-with the officers. The consequence was that I was allowed
-to plunder even in forbidden places, and could be secure
-of protection under all circumstances. So I was soon
-looked up to by friend and foe, and my purse grew as
-great as my name; even the peasants I managed to keep
-upon my side by fear and love, for I took vengeance upon
-those that tried to hinder me, and gave rich rewards to
-all who were helpful. I did not confine myself to large<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>
-schemes, and never despised small ones if there was praise
-and admiration to be won thereby.</p>
-
-<p>At one time we had been vainly hoping for some waggons
-with provisions to come into our way at the Castle of
-Recklinkhausen, and the pangs of hunger were upon us.
-And when I and my comrade, a student just run away from
-school, were leaning out of one of the windows, and hungrily
-gazing out into the country, my companion sighed after the
-barley-soup of his dear mother, and said: “Ah, brother,
-isn’t it a shame to think that after having studied all the
-arts, I should not be able to supply food for myself?
-Brother, I know for certain, if I were only allowed to visit
-the parson in yonder village—you can see the church
-steeple just beyond the poplars—I should find a most
-excellent feast.”</p>
-
-<p>After a short parley the captain gave us permission; I
-exchanged my clothes with those of another, and the
-student and I betook ourselves to the village on a very
-roundabout way. The reverend gentleman received us
-civilly. When my companion had greeted him in Latin,
-accompanying his words with a profound bow, and briskly
-conjuring up a fine array of lies how the soldiers had robbed
-him, a poor student, of all his provisions, the parson gave
-him bread and butter and a drink of beer. I passed myself
-off as a painter’s apprentice, and acting as if my companion
-and I had never met before, I told them both I should go
-down the village street to the inn for refreshment, and
-would then call for him, as we seemed to be going the same
-way. So I went away in search of anything that might be
-worth the trouble of coming for the following night, and I
-was so fortunate as to meet a peasant who was plastering up
-an earthen oven in which large loaves of brown bread were
-to lie and bake for twenty-four hours. I thought, “Go
-ahead; plaster away! I’ll find you a customer for these
-delicious viands.” I made but a short stay at the inn,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>
-knowing this cheaper way of getting bread, and returned to
-my companion, who had eaten his fill, and had told the
-parson that I was on my way to Holland to perfect myself
-in my art. The parson asked me to go and see the church
-with him, as he would like to show me some paintings that
-were in need of restoration. As it would not do to spoil
-the game, I consented. He conducted us through the
-kitchen, and when he opened the night-lock on the strong
-oaken door which led to the churchyard, I saw a wonderful
-sight. From the black heavens of this kitchen violins,
-flutes, and cymbals were pendent—in reality they were
-hams, sausages, and slices of bacon. I looked at them
-with happy forebodings, and they seemed to smile irritatingly
-upon me. I wished them in the castle to my comrades,
-but in vain; they were obstinate, and remained hanging
-where they were. I mused on ways and means of bringing
-them under my plan regarding the peasant’s loaves of bread,
-but there were serious difficulties in the way, as the yard of
-the parsonage was surrounded by a stone wall, and all the
-windows were well protected with iron bars. Moreover,
-there were two large dogs in the yard that certainly would
-object to having that stolen the remnants of which was, in
-the course of time, to be the reward due to their watchfulness.</p>
-
-<p>Once in church, it appeared that the parson generously
-intended to entrust me with the restoration of his old pictures.
-As I was exerting myself to find some plausible subterfuge,
-the sexton turned to me and said: “Fellow, you look more
-like a disreputable soldier-lad than like a painter.” I was
-no longer accustomed to such speeches, and yet there was
-nothing for it but to swallow the taunt. I shook my head
-softly and replied, “Oh, you knave! give me a brush and
-colours, and I will paint a fool in a twinkling who shall
-resemble you throughout.”</p>
-
-<p>The parson made a joke of the matter, and reminded both<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>
-of us that it is not meet to tell each other unsavoury truths in
-so holy a spot. Then he gave us another drink, and we
-departed. But I left my heart with the sausages.</p>
-
-<p>Returning to our people, I picked out six reliable fellows
-to help me carry home the bread. About midnight we
-entered the village and quietly took the bread out of the
-oven, and as we were about to pass the parsonage I could
-not bring myself to go on without the bacon. I stood still
-and looked up and down to discover some way into the parson’s
-kitchen, but there was no opening except the chimney.
-We stored our guns and our treasured booty of bread in the
-charnel-house of the churchyard, managed to get a ladder
-and rope out of the barn, and I and my crony Springinsfeld
-climbed up on the tiled roof. I twisted my long hair into a
-top-knot, and let myself down by the rope to the objects of
-my desire. Once there, I did not delay, and tied ham after
-ham, and sausage after sausage to the rope. Springinsfeld
-fished everything out skilfully from his post on the roof and
-handed it down to the others. But, alack-a-day! as I was
-just going to give myself a holiday and come out, the pole
-that I was standing on gave way, and poor Simplicisimus
-was suddenly precipitated, and found himself in as bad a
-fix as need be—in fact, it was like a regular man-trap. Springinsfeld
-tried to help me by letting down the rope, but that
-also broke. I said to myself, “Now, huntsman, you are in
-for a chase in which there will be small mercy for your hide.”</p>
-
-<p>Sure enough, my fall had waked up the parson, and he
-called his cook and bade her strike a light. She appeared
-in night-attire, her petticoat around her shoulders, and stood
-close beside me. She seized a coal from the hearth, held
-her candle up close to it, and began to blow. At the same
-time I blew much stronger than she, which frightened the
-poor body so that she dropped both candle and coal, and
-retreated near her master. Now the parson himself struck
-a light, while the woman was telling him there was a horrible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>
-two-headed ghost crouching in the kitchen; she had probably
-mistaken my top-knot for a second head. When I
-heard this I quickly rubbed my face and hands with ashes
-and soot, until I doubtless bore small resemblance to the
-angel I had figured for at the nunnery. And if the sexton
-could have seen me thus occupied, he would certainly have
-given me credit for being a rapid painter. Thereupon I
-began to make as much noise as I possibly could, throwing
-pans and kettles about. I hung the ring of the large kettle
-about my neck, and took the poker in my hand, to have a
-weapon in case of need. All this did not put out the pious
-parson, who approached as if he were heading a procession,
-his cook behind him, carrying two wax tapers and a stoup.
-He was attired in his surplice, and had a book in one hand
-and his holy-water sprinkle in the other. He read some
-ritual of exorcism aloud before me, and then asked me who
-I was, and what was my business here. Seeing that he was
-labouring under the impression that I was the Evil One, I
-thought it but fair that I should act in accordance with my
-new <i>rôle</i>, and I answered him as I had once answered the
-robbers in the woods, “I am the devil, and I have come to
-turn your neck, and your servant’s as well.” He thereupon
-tried his most potent charm, “All good spirits praise the
-Lord! I conjure thee, return from whither thou comest!”
-I replied that this was impossible, happy though I should be
-to comply with his request.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile my boon-companion Springinsfeld was indulging
-in spectral revelries upon the roof. When he heard what
-was going on in the kitchen below, and how I was passing
-myself off for the devil, he began to hoot like an owl, then
-barking like a dog, neighing like a horse, bleating like a
-sheep, crying like a donkey, cackling down the chimney like
-a hen about to lay an egg, and then again giving forth
-unearthly music like a hundred serenading cats; for this
-fellow was clever in imitating the voices of animals, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>
-could howl as naturally as if a pack of wolves were standing
-about the house.</p>
-
-<p>During the consternation of the parson and his charming
-feminine choir-boy I had time to look about me, and, to my
-joy, I made the discovery that the night-lock had not been
-put on the back door. Quick as a flash I pushed back the
-bolt, slipped out into the churchyard, where my companions
-were standing with triggers drawn, and left the parson to
-conjure devils as long as he pleased. And when Springinsfeld
-came down from the roof, bringing my hat along, and
-we had packed our spoils upon our shoulders, we returned
-to our party, not having anything more to do in the village,
-though I admit that we might have returned the borrowed
-ladder and rope.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Christoffel von Grimmelshausen</i> (1620-1676).
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_REVOLT_IN_THE_THEATRE"><i>THE REVOLT IN THE THEATRE.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center">(<span class="smcap">From Act I. of “A Topsy-Turvy World.”</span>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scaramuccio.</span><a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> <span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, Sir Poet, say what you please, talk as you wish, make
-as many objections as you can possibly make, it shall in no
-wise alter my purpose, to listen to nothing, to consider
-nothing, to insist upon having my own way,—so there!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>Dear Scaramuccio!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>I listen to nothing. Look, Sir Poet, how I am stopping
-up my ears.</p>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span></p>
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>But the piece——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Nonsense! the piece! I am a piece too, and I have a
-perfect right to say my say. Or do you suppose I have no
-will of my own? Do you poets labour under the delusion
-that a gentleman actor is called upon to do just as you say?
-My dear sir, know you not that the times are changing?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>But the spectators——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>And because there are spectators in the world, would you
-make me unhappy? Nice principles those!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>Friend, you must listen to me.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Very well then, if I must. Here I sit; now talk like a
-sensible man, if it is in your nature so to do. (<i>Sits down on
-the ground.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>Most esteemed Sir Scaramuccio! Your Grace has been
-engaged at this theatre for a special <i>rôle</i>—in a word, to
-express myself briefly, you are the <i>Scaramuccio</i>. It is not
-to be denied that you have reached a degree of excellence
-in this your speciality, and there is no man in the world
-more willing than myself to do justice to your talents; but,
-my dear sir, for all that you are not possessed of the qualities
-fitting you for a tragedian; for all that you will never be
-able to play a lofty character.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>The impudence of it! By my soul, I’ll play you a loftier
-character than you will be able to write. I take your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>
-remark as a personal insult, and I challenge the whole
-world to out-do me in the high and lofty.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA</span> (<i>one of the spectators</i>).</p>
-
-<p>Oh, Sir Scaramuccio, we’ll all take up your challenge.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>How so? What now? I confess I am struck dumb by
-this insolence.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>My dear sir, there is no cause for that. I am here for
-my money, Sir Scaramuccio, and I can think what I please.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>You are free to think as you see best, but you are not
-allowed to speak here.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>So long as you may speak, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Well, then, what have you done that was so noble?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>The day before yesterday I helped my spendthrift of a
-nephew out of his debts.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>And yesterday I saved the prompter from talking himself
-hoarse by leaving out a whole scene.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>I was in a merry humour at table one day last week, and
-gave a whole shilling in charity.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>The day before yesterday I quarrelled with my tailor, who
-came to dun me, and I had the last word.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>A week ago I helped get a tipsy man home.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Sir, I was this tipsy man; but I had been drinking my
-sovereign’s health.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>I confess myself vanquished.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter Pierrot in a state of excitement.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>What’s the matter, Pierrot?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">PIERROT.</span></p>
-
-<p>What’s the matter? I will not play to-day. On no
-account will I play.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>Why not?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">PIERROT.</span></p>
-
-<p>Why not? Because it’s high time for me to become a
-spectator. I’ve been a <i>mime</i> long enough.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter Wagemann, the manager.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>You are just in time, Herr Wagemann. There is confusion
-abroad.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">WAGEMANN.</span></p>
-
-<p>How so?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>Pierrot will not play to-day. He wants to be a spectator,
-and Scaramuccio insists upon taking the <i>rôle</i> of Apollo in
-my drama.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>And am I not right, Herr Wagemann? I have played
-the fool long enough, and I should like to try my hand at
-the wise.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">WAGEMANN.</span></p>
-
-<p>You are too severe, Sir Poet. You must give the poor
-fellows a little more liberty. Let them have it their own
-way.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>But the requirements of the drama, of art——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">WAGEMANN.</span></p>
-
-<p>Oh, all that will come right enough. Look you, my way
-of thinking is this—the spectators have paid their money,
-and with that the most important thing is regulated.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">PIERROT.</span></p>
-
-<p>Adieu, Sir Poet. I go to join the illustrious assembly of
-spectators. I will venture the bold leap over the footlights,
-to see if I can be cured of being a fool, and graduate to
-a spectator. (<i>Sings.</i>) Fare-thee-well, thou old love; a new
-life is dawning for me, and most sensible impulses are
-moving my heart. No footlight shall affright me, no
-prompter can hold me. Ah, I would taste the peaceful
-bliss of being an auditor. Receive me, wild waves; stage,
-fare-thee-well, my spirit yearns to be drawn beyond thy precincts.
-(<i>Jumps into the parterre.</i>) Where am I? Oh
-heavens! do I still breathe? Ah! is it possible I stand
-here below? The rays of the footlights shine over yonder.
-Ye gods, ye behold me surrounded by people. Who gave
-me this life, this better life?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">THE AUDIENCE.</span></p>
-
-<p>Monsieur Pierrot is one of us. A hearty welcome to
-thee, Spectator Pierrot. We greet thee, thou great man!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">PIERROT.</span></p>
-
-<p>Can it be, ye noble ones, that you will count me as your
-brother? Ah, my gratitude will last as long as there is
-breath within this bosom.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GRÜNHELM</span> (<i>one of the spectators</i>).</p>
-
-<p>Glorious, glorious! By my soul he speaks well! But as
-for me, I should like to take a part on the stage for a
-change; it would do my heart good. To be sure I tremble
-and stammer, and my wit is not of the quickest, but I am
-never so happy as when I am making a little joke. (<i>He
-scrambles up on the stage.</i>) And so, Sir Scaramuccio, leave
-your funny <i>rôle</i> to me, and then, for all I care, you may
-play the Apollo.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>And what then is to become of my excellent drama?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">AUDIENCE.</span></p>
-
-<p>Scaramuccio shall play the Apollo. It is a unanimous
-decision.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>’Tis well. I wash my hands of it. The audience may
-bear the responsibility. I am deeply miserable. Ah, yes, it
-is the fate of Art to be misunderstood and travestied, and it
-is only then that it finds its public. In vengeance for
-the judgment passed upon Marsyas, Poetry herself is flayed
-alive to-day. My sorrow is greater than I can endure. Herr
-Grünhelm, so you undertake to do the joking?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GRÜNHELM.</span></p>
-
-<p>I do, Sir Poet, and I will hold my own against any rival.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>How will you do it?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GRÜNHELM.</span></p>
-
-<p>Sir, I have been one of those whose chief business it is to
-be amused long enough to know what will please. The
-people down there want to be entertained. At bottom that
-is the only reason they stand there so quietly and patiently.
-The good-will of the public is the principal thing, I know<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>
-that as well as you do. True art is to keep this good-will
-on the surface.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>Yes, of course, but by what means do you propose——?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GRÜNHELM.</span></p>
-
-<p>Let that be my care, Sir Poet. (<i>Sings</i>:)</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“A fowler’s trade is mine, heigh-ho,” etc.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">AUDIENCE.</span></p>
-
-<p>Bravo! bravo!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GRÜNHELM.</span></p>
-
-<p>Are you pretty well amused, gentlemen?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">AUDIENCE.</span></p>
-
-<p>Excellently, most excellently!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GRÜNHELM.</span></p>
-
-<p>Do you feel a longing for anything reasonable?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">AUDIENCE.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, no; but by-and-by we should like to have our feelings
-worked upon.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GRÜNHELM.</span></p>
-
-<p>Patience, you can’t have all good things in a lump. Do
-you miss the genuine Apollo?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">AUDIENCE.</span></p>
-
-<p>Not in the least.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GRÜNHELM.</span></p>
-
-<p>Well, Sir Poet, do you still object to granting the excellent
-Scaramuccio’s request?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POET.</span></p>
-
-<p>Not in the least. I withdraw all my objections.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">AUDIENCE.</span></p>
-
-<p>But we don’t want him to give us nothing but nonsense.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Mercy on us! We would not be guilty of such a sinful
-thing. What kind of an Apollo were I if I should admit
-of that? No, gentlemen, there shall be an abundance of
-serious things—things to think about, things to train one’s
-intellectual faculties.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>Is it to be a tragedy?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">PIERROT.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, gentlemen, we actors have all sworn that we will not
-die, so it won’t be a tragedy, whatever the poet may have in
-his mind.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>I am relieved to hear it, for I am possessed of a very soft
-heart.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">PIERROT.</span></p>
-
-<p>Hang it, sir, neither are we made of stone and iron. I
-have the honour of assuring you that my susceptibilities are
-uncommonly delicate. The devil take all inelegancies.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>That is what I say. There is nothing above being a
-spectator. It is the highest thing one can be.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">PIERROT.</span></p>
-
-<p>Ay, that it is. Are we not more than all the emperors
-and princes that are but acted?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Thunder and lightning! Where, in the hangman’s
-name, is my Parnassus?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GRÜNHELM.</span></p>
-
-<p>I will go and get it. (<i>Exit.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">WAGEMANN.</span></p>
-
-<p>Now all is in order. Adieu, Sir Scaramuccio.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Your humble servant. Beg you to express my respects to
-Madam, your wife. (<i>The manager exit. Three attendants
-enter, carrying the Parnassus.</i>) Put it down here,—a trifle
-further to this side, so that I can hear the prompter. (<i>He
-climbs up and takes a seat.</i>) A pleasant mount this. What
-revenues does it yield? Can any one tell me? Send for
-the treasurer.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter the Treasurer.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>What does the mount bring me annually?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">TREASURER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Under your predecessor, the only profits derived were
-those from the Castalian Spring.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>What sort of a spring? Was it a mineral spring; a
-sulphur spring, perhaps? Was there much demand for the
-waters? What was the price per bottle?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">TREASURER.</span></p>
-
-<p>What little there was wanted was given away. Few
-people liked the water. Your predecessor, the other
-Apollo, was fond of it.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>I hope there are no mortgages on the mount?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">TREASURER.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, your majesty.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Is it insured?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">TREASURER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Oh, yes.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>There is some security in that. I shall have a brewery and
-a bakery put up at the foot. The common pastures must
-be otherwise disposed of; Pegasus and the other beasts
-that belong to me must henceforth be fed in the stable.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">TREASURER.</span></p>
-
-<p>It shall be as you say.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Have the spectators paid for the play?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">TREASURER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Yes, your excellency.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>I hereby decree that there shall be no complimentary
-tickets in future.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">TREASURER.</span></p>
-
-<p>These are innovations not at all in accordance with the
-institutions of Greece.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Hang Greece! Thank goodness we live in better times.
-This is an age of enlightenment, and I reign supreme. Send
-for the Muses. (<i>Exit the Treasurer.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter the nine Muses, bowing profoundly.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO</span> (<i>lightly nodding to them</i>).</p>
-
-<p>Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselles.
-Hope we shall get on finely together. Henceforth you shall
-be my tenants on the Parnassus. Should you ever desire
-to change your residence, quarterly notice is required.
-What is your name, fair child?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">MELPOMENE.</span></p>
-
-<p>I am Melpomene.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>You look so woe-begone.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">MELPOMENE.</span></p>
-
-<p>Oh, Herr Apollo! I am of a very good family. My father
-had a high position at court, and the thane gave me a matchless
-education. Ah, how happy I was in my parents’ house,
-and what a dutiful daughter did I strive to be! I also had
-a lover, but he jilted me, and my parents died of grief.
-Our family physician, a worthy man, took an interest in me;
-but he was too poor to marry me, so there was nothing for
-it but to join the Muses. Have I no right to be sad?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Yes indeed, my child; but I will be as a father to
-you.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA</span> (<i>to another spectator</i>).</p>
-
-<p>Now see, for heaven’s sake, how the tears are flowing from
-my eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">THE OTHER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Why, neighbour, save them for the fifth act.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>And who are you, pretty maid?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">THALIA.</span></p>
-
-<p>Thank you kindly, sir, for asking; I was christened
-Thalia. I was a servant in the family of this excellent lady,
-and I could not bring myself to leave her in her distress,
-and followed her among the Muses.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>When the last act comes your faithfulness will surely be
-rewarded. Where is my groom?</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter the Groom.</i>)</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Saddle my Pegasus. I wish to go riding.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Exit the Groom, coming back immediately with a bridled
-donkey.</i>)</p>
-
-<p>Help me. (<i>He gets in the saddle.</i>)</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp76" id="i_023_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_023.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">THE MOUNTING OF PEGASUS.</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GROOM.</span></p>
-
-<p>By what rules of quantity does your Honour choose to
-take his pleasure to-day?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Oh, fool! I will ride in plain, sensible prose. Do you
-suppose I wish to be jolted in Alcaic measures, or break my
-neck in Proceleusmatics? No, I am for sense and order.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">GROOM.</span></p>
-
-<p>Your predecessor was always flying in the air.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCARAMUCCIO.</span></p>
-
-<p>Don’t talk to me about the fellow. He must have been
-a very clown, a most eccentric ass. To fly into the air!
-No, the air has no pillars, I am all for the earth. Adieu,
-my friends! I am only going to ride a short essay on the
-value of family portraits. I shall be back presently. (<i>He
-rides slowly away.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>The curtain drops.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>That was only the introduction.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">PIERROT.</span></p>
-
-<p>The first act is always of great importance for the lucidity
-of the whole.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">THE OTHER TO SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>There is much morality in the piece.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SCAEVOLA.</span></p>
-
-<p>Indeed there is; I feel myself growing better already.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">PIERROT.</span></p>
-
-<p>Music!</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Ludwig Tieck</i> (1773-1853).
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_UNACCOUNTABLE_STRANGER"><i>THE UNACCOUNTABLE STRANGER.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center">(<span class="smcap">From Scene IV. of “A Topsy-Turvy World.”</span>)</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>The room of an Inn.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Few enough guests put up at my house nowadays. If
-this goes on I might as well take down my sign. Dear me,
-those were other times when there was scarce a piece performed
-but had a tavern and a host in it. I well remember
-in how many hundreds of pieces the foundations for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>
-finest plots were laid in this very room. Now it was a
-prince in disguise, who spent his money here; now it was a
-prime minister, or a wealthy count at the very least, who lay
-in ambush here for some conspiracy. Yes, even in things
-that were translated from the English, I always earned an
-honest penny. Some drawbacks to be sure there were, when
-I was required to be a disguised member of a band of
-sharpers, and then be smartly rated by the moral characters;
-but there was always healthy activity in it. But now!—Now
-when a wealthy stranger returns from a journey, he
-goes to stay with his relatives by way of doing something
-novel and original, and does not drop his disguise until the
-fifth act; others appear only upon the street, as if there
-were no respectable house for them to stay at. All this
-keeps the audience in a marvellous state of curiosity, but it
-takes the bread out of our mouth.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter Anne.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">ANNE.</span></p>
-
-<p>You seem to be in low spirits, father.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Yes, child, I’m out of sorts about my calling.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">ANNE.</span></p>
-
-<p>Would you like to be something finer?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, not exactly; but it vexes me more than I can tell
-you that there is no more demand for my calling.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">ANNE.</span></p>
-
-<p>Surely in time all that will change for the better.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, dear daughter. The times do not tend that way.
-Oh, why was I not a Hofrath! You may look at any play-bill
-this day, it always says at the bottom: “The scene is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>
-at the house of the Hofrath.” If things go on like this I’ll
-study for a gaoler, for prisons, you know, still occur in
-patriotic and mediæval pieces. But my son must see to it
-that he gets to be a Hofrath.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">ANNE.</span></p>
-
-<p>Be comforted, dear father, and do not yield to your
-melancholy.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>I’ve half a mind to turn poet myself, and invent a new
-art of poetry which shall supersede the Hofrath pieces, and
-in which the scene shall invariably play in a tavern.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">ANNE.</span></p>
-
-<p>Do so, dear father, and I will attend to the love-scenes.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Hist! There is a diligence pulling up at the door.
-Indeed it seems to be an express. Kind heavens, where
-can the unsophisticated person come from who would put
-up at this house?</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter a Stranger.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Good morrow, mine host.</p>
-
-<p><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Your servant, your servant, noble lord. Who in the
-world are you to travel <i>incognito</i>, and put up at my house?
-Surely you are of the old school, eh? A man of the good
-old times! Perhaps translated from the English!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>I am neither a noble lord nor do I travel <i>incognito</i>. Can
-I lodge here this day and night?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>My whole house is at your disposal. But really, is there
-no family in the vicinity you wish to make happy? Or do
-you wish to marry suddenly, or find a sister?</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, good friend.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>So you are only journeying as a simple, ordinary
-traveller?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Yes.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Then you will have but little applause.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>The fellow must be crazy.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter a Postillion.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POSTILLION.</span></p>
-
-<p>Here is your trunk, sir.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>And here is your fee.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POSTILLION.</span></p>
-
-<p>Oh, that is very little. I drove down the hill so smartly!</p>
-
-<p><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>There.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">POSTILLION.</span></p>
-
-<p>Many thanks. <span class="margin">(<i>Exit.</i>)</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Shall I succeed in finding her? Oh, how all my
-thoughts turn to my beloved native shore! How can I
-endure the sight, when once more I view it?—when the
-past, with all its joys and pains, passes before my inner
-vision? Ah, thou poor mortal! what callest thou the
-past? For thee there is no present. Between the times
-that are flown and the future thou clingest to a little
-moment, and joys flit past thee, and do not so much as
-touch thy heart.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>If I may be permitted to ask, I take it your grace is from
-some old worm-eaten drama that some unknown author has
-modernised a bit?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>What say you?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>I greatly doubt that you will have applause! I hope, at
-any rate, that you have money? Or is it a part of the plot
-that you should pretend to be poor?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>You are very inquisitive, good friend.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">INNKEEPER.</span></p>
-
-<p>That’s part of my trade, sir, as any schoolboy will tell
-you. Old people must be old; Telephus must be a beggar;
-the slave must chatter in keeping with his <i>rôle</i>. You can
-look it up in the <i>Ars poetica</i>, to which I too am subject in
-my office as host.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">STRANGER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Thank you for this graceful frenzy; I have not found so
-rare a curiosity for a long time. Show me to my room.</p>
-
-<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Ludwig Tieck.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="VAN_DER_KABELS_LAST_WILL_AND"><i>VAN DER KABEL’S LAST WILL AND
-TESTAMENT.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">E</span>VER since Haslan was a duke’s residence there was no
-record of anything having been looked forward to
-with such curiosity—excepting the birth of a hereditary
-prince—as the opening of Van der Kabel’s last will and
-testament. Van der Kabel might have been called the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>
-Crœsus of Haslan, and his life a comedy of coins. Seven
-distant relatives of seven deceased distant relatives of
-Kabel’s indulged in some little hope of a place in the testament,
-the Crœsus having sworn to remember them there;
-but the hope was a faint one, as he seemed not greatly to
-be trusted, not only because he was in the habit of managing
-his affairs in a grimly moral and unselfish manner—in
-matters of morality the seven relatives were but beginners—but
-also because he handled things in so cynical a spirit,
-and with a heart so full of traps and snares that there was
-no depending upon him. The continuous smile about his
-temples and thick lips, and his shrill sneering voice, impaired
-the good impression which his nobly-formed features and a
-pair of large hands, dropping New Year’s gifts and benefits
-every day, might have made; therefore the swarms of birds
-declared this man, this living fruit-tree, which furnished
-them with food and nests, to be a secret snare, and would
-not see the visible berries for invisible nooses.</p>
-
-<p>Between two strokes of paralysis he had dictated his
-testament, and entrusted it to the magistrate. When in a
-half-dying state he handed the receipt of deposit to the
-seven heirs-presumptive, he said, in his old tone, that he
-should greatly deplore it if this sign of his approaching
-decease would strike down sensible men, whom he liked to
-picture as laughing heirs rather than as weeping ones.</p>
-
-<p>In due time the seven heirs put in an appearance at the
-Rathhaus with their receipt of deposit. There was the
-Right Reverend Glanz, the Police-inspector, the Court-agent
-Neupeter, the Court-attorney Knoll, the Bookseller
-Pasvogel, the Preacher Flachs, and Flitte from Elsass.
-They urged the magistrate to produce the <i>charte</i> of the
-deceased Kabel, and open the will with all the formalities
-of the law. The high executor of the same was the ruling
-burgomaster in person; the low executors were the town
-councillors. Without delay the <i>charte</i> and testament were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>
-fetched out of the private closet and deposited in the
-court-room, passed around to the senators and heirs, that
-they might gaze upon the printed town-seal. The directions
-written upon the outside of the <i>charte</i> were read in a loud
-voice by the town-scribent to the seven heirs, who were
-therewith informed that the deceased had in truth deposited
-the said <i>charte</i> with the magistrate, and entrusted it to the
-same <i>scrinio rei publicae</i>, and that on the day when he had
-thus deposited it he had been in his right mind; last, the
-seven seals which he himself had placed thereon were
-examined and found intact. After the town-scribent had
-entered a registry of all these proceedings, the testament
-was opened in God’s name, and read aloud by the ruling
-burgomaster as follows:—</p>
-
-<p>“I, Van der Kabel, herewith declare my last will and testament
-this 7th day of May 179—, here in my house in Haslan
-in the Hundgasse, without many millions of words, though I
-was once a German Notary Public and a Dutch dominé.
-But I believe I am still sufficiently conversant with the art
-of a notary to be enabled to act the part of a testator and
-bequeather in a proper and becoming manner.</p>
-
-<p>“As for charitable legacies, so far as they are any concern
-of the lawyer’s, I declare that the poor of this town, 3000
-in number, shall receive as many light florins, for which
-they may celebrate the anniversary day of my death next
-year by pitching a camp upon the public common; make a
-merry day of it, and then take the tents to make clothes out
-of them. To all schoolmasters of our dukedom I bequeath
-a Louis d’or apiece; and to the Jews of the place I bequeath
-my pew in church. As I desire to have my testament
-sub-divided into paragraphs, this may be considered as the
-first.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Paragraph 2.</i>—Declarations of inheritance and disinheritance
-are universally counted among the essentials of
-a testament. I therefore bequeath to the Right Reverend<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>
-Glanz, the Court-attorney Knoll, the Court-agent Peter
-Neupeter, the Police-inspector Harprecht, the Preacher
-Flachs, the Bookseller Pasvogel, and Herr Flitte, nothing for
-the present, not so much because the most distant relatives
-can lay no claim to a <i>Trebellianica</i>, nor because most of
-them have enough to pass on to future generations as it is,
-but mainly because I know from their own assurance that
-they esteem my humble person more than my large
-fortune, of which I must therefore dispose otherwise.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_032_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_032.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“SEVEN ELONGATED FACES HERE STARTED UP.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Seven elongated faces here started up. Especially
-did the Right Reverend Glanz, a young man noted
-throughout Germany for his spoken and printed sermons,
-feel himself keenly injured by such sneers. Flitte, from
-Elsass, permitted a whispered oath to escape his lips; and
-as for Flachs, the preacher, his chin grew longer and longer,
-and threatened to grow into a beard. Many a whispered
-ejaculation was overheard by the magistrate addressing the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>
-late Herr Kabel by such appellatives as scoundrel, fool,
-antichrist. But the ruling burgomaster waved his hand,
-the court-attorney and the bookseller set all the elastic
-springs in their faces as in a trap once more, and the
-former continued reading albeit with affected seriousness.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Paragraph 3.</i>—Excepting my present residence in the
-Hundgasse, which, according to this third paragraph, I
-will leave, with all that pertains thereto, to that one of the
-afore-mentioned seven gentlemen who, in one half-hour
-(counting from the reading of the paragraph), shall outdo
-his six rivals by being the first to shed a tear over me, his
-deceased relative, before an honourable magistrate, who
-shall register the fact. Should there be a drought at the
-end of that time, then the property must accrue to my heir-general,
-whom I shall forthwith name.”</p>
-
-<p>Here the burgomaster shut the will, remarking the conditions
-to be unusual, but not illegal, and in accordance
-therewith the court would now proceed to award the house
-to the first that wept; laid his watch, which pointed to half-past
-eleven, upon the table, and sat down silently to note,
-together with the lawyers, in his office of chief executor,
-who would first shed the required tears.</p>
-
-<p>That so long as this world exists there has ever been a
-sadder and more ruffled assembly than this of seven dry
-provinces united as it were to weep, cannot fairly be
-assumed. At first precious moments were lost in dismay
-and smiling surprise; it was no easy matter to be transported
-so abruptly from cursing to weeping. Emotion
-pure and simple was not to be thought of, that was quite
-evident; but in twenty-six minutes something might be done
-by way of enforcing an April shower.</p>
-
-<p>The merchant Neupeter asked if that was not a confounded
-affair and fool’s comedy for a respectable man to
-be concerned in, and would have nothing to do with it;
-but at the same time the thought that a house might be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>
-washed into his purse on the bosom of a tear strangely
-moved his lachrymal glands.</p>
-
-<p>The Court-attorney Knoll screwed up his face like a poor
-workman getting shaved and scratched by an apprentice on
-Saturday night by the light of a murky little lamp; he was
-greatly enraged at the misuse of testaments, and was not
-far removed from shedding tears of wrath.</p>
-
-<p>The sly bookseller at once proceeded to apply himself
-assiduously to the matter in hand, and sent his memory on
-a stroll through all the sentimental subjects he was publishing
-or taking on commission; he looked much like a dog
-slowly licking off the emetic which the Paris doctor Demet
-had spread on his nose; some time must necessarily elapse
-before it could take effect.</p>
-
-<p>Flitte, from Elsass, danced about the Session-room, looked
-at all the mourners with laughing eyes, and swore, though
-he was not the richest among them, he could not for the
-whole of Strasburg and Elsass weep when there was such a
-joke abroad.</p>
-
-<p>At last the Police-inspector Harprecht looked at him very
-significantly, and remarked that if Monsieur hoped to extract
-the required drops from the well-known glands by means
-of laughter, and fraudulently profit thereby, he begged to
-remind him that he would gain as little as if he were to blow
-his nose, for it was well known that the <i>ductus nasalis</i> caused
-as many tears to take that direction as flow into a pew
-under the most affecting funeral sermon. But the Elsassian
-assured him that he was only laughing for fun without any
-serious intentions. The inspector on his part tried to bring
-something appropriate to the occasion into his eyes by opening
-them very wide and looking fixedly at one spot.</p>
-
-<p>The preacher Flachs looked like a beggar on horseback,
-whose nag is running away with him; like the sun shining
-on a dismal day, his heart, which was piled about with the
-most suitable clouds of hardships at home and in church,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>
-might easily have drawn water on the spot, but unfortunately
-the house swimming in on the high-tide proved too pleasant
-a sight, and repeatedly served as a dam.</p>
-
-<p>The Right Reverend Glanz, who knew his nature from
-his experience in New Years’ and funeral sermons, and who
-was quite certain that he would be able to work upon his
-own feelings if only he were granted an opportunity of
-addressing himself in touching language to others, now
-arose and said with dignity that he was sure every one who
-had read his printed works would feel convinced that he
-had a heart in his bosom, and that it was rather to be
-expected of him to suppress such sacred symbols as tears,
-so as to deprive no human brother, than to extract them by
-force. “This heart has overflowed ere now, but it was in
-secret, for Kabel was my friend,” he said, and looked about
-him.</p>
-
-  <div class="figright illowp69" id="i_035" style="max-width: 25em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_035.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“I BELIEVE, GENTLEMEN, I AM WEEPING.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>With satisfaction he saw that they were all sitting there
-as dry as so many sticks. As things stood now, crocodiles,
-stags, elephants, and witches could have wept more easily
-than the heirs, irritated and enraged by Glanz as they were.
-Only Flachs had a turn of good luck. He thought of
-Kabel’s good deeds and of the shabby dresses and grey locks
-of his congregation at early service, then in haste he gave
-a thought to Lazarus and his dogs and to his own lengthy
-coffin, then to all the people who have been beheaded at one
-time or other, the “Sorrows of Werther,” a battle-field;
-and last he gave a pitiful thought to himself, how young
-he was, and how he was working and slaving for a
-miserable paragraph in a testament. Another good heave
-with his pump-handle and it would fetch him water and a
-house.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Kabel, my Kabel,” continued Glanz, almost weeping
-at the glad prospect of mournful tears, “when on some
-future day, beside thy precious bosom now covered with dust,
-my own lies mouldering——”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span></p>
-
-<p>“I believe, gentlemen,” said Flachs, getting up sadly and
-overflowing with tears, “I am weeping.” Thereupon he
-sat down again and
-allowed them to run
-cheerfully down his
-cheeks; he was high
-and dry now; he had
-successfully angled
-the house away from
-Glanz, who was very
-much put out by his
-efforts, because he
-had talked away his
-appetite all to no
-purpose. Flachs’s
-emotion was duly
-registered, and the
-house in the Hundgasse
-was legally assigned to him. The burgomaster was
-gratified that the poor devil should have it. It was the first
-time in the dukedom of Haslan that the tears of a teacher
-and preacher, like those of the goddess Freya, had changed
-into gold. Glanz was profuse in his congratulations, and
-jocosely reminded Flachs that he himself had perhaps been
-instrumental in bringing about this happy consummation.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Jean Paul Friedrich Richter</i> (1763-1825).
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="DIVISION_OF_LABOUR_IN_MATTERS"><i>DIVISION OF LABOUR IN MATTERS
-SENTIMENTAL.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">L</span>OVE is the perihelion of women—ay, it is the transit
-of such a Venus through the sun of the ideal world.
-During this time of their highest refinement of soul they
-love whatever we love, even though it be Science, and the
-best world of beauty within us; and they despise whatever<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>
-we despise, even though it be dress and gossip. These
-nightingales sing up to the date of the summer solstice;
-their marriage-day is their longest day. The devil does not
-take it all at once, but piecemeal day by day. The firm
-bands of wedlock tie up the wings of poesy; to the free
-play of fancy marriage means imprisonment on bread and
-water. Many a time I have followed about one of these
-poor birds of paradise or peacocks or Psyches during their
-honeymoon, and picked up the moulted feathers that were
-strewn about; and when later the husband complained that
-he had taken unto himself a bald and unlovely bird, I
-would show him the wasted treasure. Why is this?
-Because marriage erects a crust of reality about the ideal
-world; it is much the same case as with the sphere we live
-on, which, according to Descartes, is a sun enveloped in an
-earthy shell. A woman lacks the power which a man has
-to protect the inner structures of air and fancy against the
-encroachments of the rough outside. Where shall she seek
-refuge? In her natural keeper. A man should ever stand
-guard with a spoon over the fluid silver of the feminine
-intellect, to remove the scum as it rises, that the regulus of
-the ideal may shine the brighter. But there are two kinds
-of men: the Arcadians or lyric poets of life, who love for
-ever, like Rousseau when his hair was grey—such are not
-to be comforted when the gilt-edged feminine anthology of
-wit shows no gold as they turn the leaves, as is apt to be
-the case in books bordered with gold; second, there are
-the boorish shepherds of to-day, the plebeian poetasters and
-practical men of business, who thank God when their
-enchantress, like other enchantresses, changes into a growling
-domestic cat, and keeps the house free from vermin.</p>
-
-<p>No one suffers from greater <i>ennui</i> and anxiety than a fat,
-weighty, slouching, bass-voiced man of business, who, like
-the Roman elephants of former times, is called upon to
-dance upon the slender rope of love, and whose amorous<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>
-pantomimes always remind me of dormice, that seem to be
-at a loss about their every movement when sudden warmth
-interrupts their dormant state. Only with widows, who care
-less to be loved than to be married, can a heavy man of
-business begin his romance where the novelists end theirs—viz.,
-at the steps of the altar. Such a man, constructed on the
-crudest style, would have a load off his mind if he could get
-some one to love his shepherdess in his name until there
-was nothing more to be done but to have the wedding; the
-taking upon myself of such crosses and burdens for another
-is just what I should feel a calling for. I have often thought
-of advertising it in public papers (had I not feared it might
-be taken for a joke), that I offer myself to serve as plenipotentiary
-to any man of business who has no time to
-properly make love to a girl. Provided only she be tolerable,
-I should be willing to swear platonic everlasting affection,
-make the necessary declarations of love, and, in short,
-substitute myself in the most disinterested manner, or escort
-her arm-in-arm through the ups and downs of the land of
-love, until on the border I could make her over to the
-prospective bridegroom in proper condition to be married.
-Instead of marriage by proxy we should thus have love by
-proxy.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Jean Paul Friedrich Richter.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_TENDER-HEARTED_CRITIC"><i>A TENDER-HEARTED CRITIC.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">H</span>E composed reviews as others do prayers—only when
-in straits; it was like the carrying of water of the
-Athenian so that he might thus be free to devote himself to
-his favourite studies without hunger. But his satirical sting
-he would put in the sheath when writing reviews. “Petty
-authors,” he said, “are always bitter, and great ones are
-worse than their works. Why should I be less severe upon
-the genius for his moral faults, such as vanity, than upon<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>
-the dunce? On the contrary. Poverty and ugliness not
-self-incurred deserve no disdain; but neither do they deserve
-it <i>when</i> self-incurred, though Cicero be against me.
-For neither a moral fault nor its punishment can be
-increased by a physical consequence which may follow or
-may not follow. Is the spendthrift who is impoverished in
-consequence of his way of living more to be blamed than
-the spendthrift who goes free? On the contrary.”</p>
-
-<p>Applying this to poor writers whose unconquerable self-conceit
-hides their worthlessness to themselves, upon
-whose innocent hearts the critic vents his just wrath over
-their guilty heads, it is certainly permissible to scoff
-bitterly at the type, but the individual should be more
-gently dealt with. Methinks it would be the gold-test of a
-morally immaculate scholar if he were called upon to
-review a poor but celebrated book.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Jean Paul Friedrich Richter.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_ACCIDENT_OF_THE_DISTINGUISHED"><i>THE ACCIDENT OF THE DISTINGUISHED
-STRANGER.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center">(<span class="smcap">From Scene XII. of “Die Deutschen Kleinstädter.”</span>)</p>
-
-<p class="hang">(<i>Scene in the Burgomaster’s home in a small town. News has
-just been received of a traveller, whose carriage has met
-with an accident in a quarry just outside the town.</i>
-<span class="smcap">Frau Staar</span>, <i>the Burgomaster’s mother, is all in a flutter
-as to the best way of doing honour to the distinguished
-stranger, and has sent for all of her female relatives, to
-obtain their advice in this difficult question</i>.)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Frau Staar.</span> <span class="smcap">Frau Brendel.</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>Here I am, most dear Dame Cousin. I ran so, I have
-no breath left. I was but just drinking my seventh cup of
-coffee, but I jumped up and left everything, at your message.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>Greatly obliged, most esteemed Dame Cousin. Have
-you heard——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>I know everything! My maid had gone to market, and
-the butcher told her his neighbour, the linen-draper, had
-heard how the bailiff had said to his daughter: Mickey, he
-said, out in the quarry there are a couple of counts lying,
-who have broken their arms and legs, and will be here in a
-minute. The watchman will blow a horn from the turret,
-the children will strew flowers on their path, the magistrate
-<i>in corpore</i> will go to meet them, and the bells will be rung.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>It is only one, Dame Cousin; only one is lying in the
-quarry, probably a gentleman of quality. He is to be our
-guest. The Minister of State has written and has asked my
-son. Now you can fancy, Dame Cousin, the excitement in
-the house. And everything is on my shoulders! Everything
-rests upon me!</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter Frau Morgenroth.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Your servant, most esteemed Dame Cousin. Only see
-how my walk has heated me. I trust I am not too late?
-With your permission be it said, I had scarce a thing on me,
-was singing my morning hymn and combing my poodle-dog.
-At the third stanza your maid came rushing in. My God, I
-thought the house was on fire! Then and there I jumped up,
-the poodle-dog dropped from my lap, the hymnal fell in the
-coals where I was warming my coffee, the coffee was spilled,
-and two stanzas of the hymn, “Awake, my heart, and sing!”
-were burned up.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>I regret it, exceedingly, worthy Dame Cousin——</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Oh, it’s of no consequence. I know all. Out in the
-quarry lie three or four princes; one is dead, the other is
-gasping a bit now and then. The coachman has broken
-his neck, the horses are lying stiff and stark. I met the
-Herr Assistant-Bailiff Balg on the street; his cook told
-him; she knows it from the wife of the Lottery Inspector;
-her husband’s barber told her all the details.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>Tut, tut, it is not quite so bad as all that. A short time
-ago a peasant came here from Kabendorf——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>I know, he got a solid thaler for a tip.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Far from it, Dame Cousin, a Louis-d’or it was.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>He had run as fast as he could run.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>They say it gave him a pain in his side.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU <span class="err" title="original: MONGENROTH">MORGENROTH</span>.</span></p>
-
-<p>His nose bled too.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>A person of quality met with an accident.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>A count——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Several princes.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>That we do not know. He must be of noble extraction,
-for he does not lodge in the “Golden Cat,” but at our
-house, at the express desire of his Honour the Minister of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>
-State. Now, as my son, the Burgomaster and Chief Alderman,
-represents in his person the whole town as it were,
-you will, of course, understand that he must do honour to
-his position.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>A banquet at the Town Hall——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>A dance at the archers’ guild——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>To-morrow, as you know, is the great <i>fête</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>Oh yes, the woman that stole the cow nine years ago——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>To-morrow she goes to the pillory. I am looking forward
-to it with a great deal of pleasure.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>I have had a brand-new robe made for the occasion.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>There have been many arrangements made to fitly celebrate
-this event. But to-day the honour of the town is
-wholly in our hands; to-day <i>we</i> must show what we can do,
-and with the help of God we will. The tables shall bend
-under His blessings. My worthy cousins are herewith
-invited.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>I look upon it as a great honour.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Shall not fail.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>Now, you see, I should like to make the distinguished
-stranger acquainted with our people of quality. So I have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>
-sent for you to ask your advice as to the persons to be
-invited.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL</span> (<i>meditating</i>).</p>
-
-<p>Ah, well, I think——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>You might perhaps——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>Invite the Herr Convoy-and-Land-Excise-Commissary
-Kropt——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, Dame Cousin, he gave a banquet the other day on
-his mother’s birthday, and did not ask us.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>Ah, indeed!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Perhaps the Herr Board-of-Revenue-Supernumerary-Secretary
-Wittmann?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, Dame Cousin; my husband, the late Herr Brendel,
-had a law-suit with him about his drains.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>That alters the matter.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>I thought of the Herr Post-Luggage-Inspector-General
-Holbein?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>For heaven’s sake, Dame Cousin! he has a most insufferable
-wife! There’s hardly a Sunday passes but she has a
-new dress, and the way she goes rustling past my pew——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>She carries her head higher than need be——</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>And we all remember her so well——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>Yes, when she wore a grey spencer with a green apron.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>There are strange rumours where she takes it from.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, I would rather suggest the Herr
-County-Tavern-Harvest-and-Quarter-Tax-and-Impost-Controller
-Kunkel.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>Don’t mention him, worthy Cousin; he is a rude fellow,
-who has no manners! Would you believe it, he did not so
-much as call upon us in a decent and proper manner, the
-pert addle-head! He left his card, fancy! One might
-sooner ask the Herr Penal-Raft-Commander Weidenbaum.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, Dame Cousin, for heaven’s sake, no! You remember
-how the wicked fellow was seen to talk to my brother-in-law’s
-step-daughter three times, and how consequently he
-intended to marry her? Now he holds himself aloof, and
-has made the poor girl the talk of the town.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>Goodness me, is there any one we can ask then?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>There comes Cousin Sperling.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter Sperling, with a large bouquet.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SPERLING.</span></p>
-
-<p>Frau Under-Tax-Receiver, Frau Chief-Raft-and-Fishery
-Master, Frau Town-Excise-Treasury-Secretary, your humble
-servant! I was in my garden—the Herr Vice-Church-Superintendent
-sent for me—I ran like a sunbeam!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>
-Scarce did I take the time to cull these children of the
-spring.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">THE THREE LADIES.</span></p>
-
-<p>Do you know already?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SPERLING.</span></p>
-
-<p>I know all. A celebrated professor—carriage smashed
-up—nose ditto—letter of recommendation from the
-Minister of State.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>A professor, you say?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>Only a professor?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Oh, my delicious coffee that was spilled in the fire!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>Never believe it, Dame Cousin. All my life I have
-heard that ministers take little interest in professors. No,
-no, there is some misunderstanding.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SPERLING.</span></p>
-
-<p>Nay, but I will stand up for my opinion that the man
-who has had his nose smashed is a learned professor, on
-his way from Egypt or Weimar, where he has either been
-measuring the pillar of Pompey, or else seen Wieland put
-his head out of the window. In short, there is no time to
-be lost. Here are the flowers. Now get me some children.
-Children I must have! Then he may come and see what
-the town of Krähwinkel can do!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>Gently, gently; they shall be here at once.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-(<i>Exit.</i>)
-</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<span class="allsmcap">SPERLING</span> <i>turns aside and mutely practises the pantomimes
-of reception</i>.)</p>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span></p>
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Have you noticed, worthy cousin, what ridiculous airs the
-old lady is putting on?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>Yes, indeed, Dame Cousin; she puffs herself up like
-dough in the oven.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Goodness me! Her husband was only <i>Under</i>-Tax-Receiver.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>When he died he left a debt to the Treasury.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Dear me, and I wonder what the banquet will be like?
-Do you remember that joint eight weeks ago? It was
-horribly burned.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>And how she looks! what will she put on?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Not much choice. She has but three gowns.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>To be sure, the brown one——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>And the white one——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>And her stuff gown.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>She had that made for the first christening at the burgomaster’s.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>Begging your pardon, Dame Cousin, it was made when
-the Vice-Church-Superintendent married his second wife.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Who was another such fool.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>You’re right there, quite right there.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter Frau Staar with two children, the latter eating
-enormous slices of bread and butter.</i>)</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp87" id="i_046_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_046.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">ENTER FRAU STAAR WITH TWO CHILDREN.</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>There are the children.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SPERLING.</span></p>
-
-<p>Come along then!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>Drop a curtsey to your dear Dame Cousin first, there’s
-a good child! Now shake hands; that’s right!</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL</span> (<i>wiping the butter from her fingers</i>).</p>
-
-<p>Enchanting little creatures. God bless them!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>The very pictures of our dear Dame Cousin.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>I trust they have had the pox!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>Not yet. My son wished to have them inoculated, but
-I will never give my consent. I would not forestall the
-Almighty.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SPERLING.</span></p>
-
-<p>Children, lay your bread and butter aside.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">CHILDREN.</span></p>
-
-<p>No, no.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SPERLING.</span></p>
-
-<p>Well, then, take the flowers in the other hand.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Enter Herr Staar and the Burgomaster.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">HERR STAAR</span> (<i>hastily</i>).</p>
-
-<p>They are just driving in through the gate. The street is
-full of boys. They are running along by the carriage, and
-yelling at the top of their voice.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">BURGOMASTER</span> (<i>hastily</i>).</p>
-
-<p>He comes, he comes! The watchman is standing ready
-with his trumpet.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SPERLING.</span></p>
-
-<p>Goodness gracious! The children are so awkward——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">HERR STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>All you have to do is to strew your flowers and fling them
-in his face.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>The blast of a trumpet very much out of tune.</i>)</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">BURGOMASTER.</span></p>
-
-<p>Quick, quick! All go to meet him!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">HERR STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>The children lead the way!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">SPERLING</span> (<i>snatches the bread and butter out of their
-hands and throws it on the table</i>).</p>
-
-<p>Leave your bread and butter here.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">HERR STAAR</span> (<i>urging the children toward the door</i>).</p>
-
-<p>Quick, quick!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">CHILDREN</span> (<i>crying</i>).</p>
-
-<p>I want my bread and butter! My bread and butter!</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">BURGOMASTER</span> (<i>following them</i>).</p>
-
-<p>Will you hold your tongues?</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>Frau Chief-Raft-and-Fishery-Master, you will have the
-kindness to precede me.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>Never, Frau Town-Excise-Treasury-Secretary. I most
-urgently beg you——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>Frau Under-Tax-Receiver, the honour is due to you.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU STAAR.</span></p>
-
-<p>The heavens preserve me! I am at home in this house.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU BRENDEL.</span></p>
-
-<p>I know my place——</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">FRAU MORGENROTH.</span></p>
-
-<p>I will not stir a step.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>The three begin to bow and curtsey, and all talk at the
-same time.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="center">(THE CURTAIN DROPS.)</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>August von Kotzebue</i> (1761-1819).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="HOW_THE_VICAR_CAME_AROUND"><i>HOW THE VICAR CAME AROUND.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE Frau Obersteuerrätin was “auntie” to the whole
-world; and indeed she deserved the name, for she was
-a motherly friend, counsellor, and helper to all who came
-within her domain; she was the best and most charitable
-of women, judging mildly of the weaknesses of others so
-long as her own little weaknesses were respected. She over-looked
-the eccentricities of her clerical brother, which he
-committed in a state of absent-mindedness, and she did not
-raise any objections to Susie’s marvellous <i>naïveté</i>, though
-often enough it caused her bitter dilemmas.</p>
-
-<p>It was a warm May day on which the Vicar entered the
-room with his usual greeting: “Good morning, Auntie—good
-morning, Susie.”</p>
-
-<p>Auntie nodded pleasantly. Susie, who was sitting by her
-on the sofa, knitting a white stocking, arose, dropped a little
-familiar curtsey, and said: “<i>Votre servante</i>, Uncle.”</p>
-
-<p>“But, Heaven preserve us, what is the matter with you
-to-day, Vicar?” said Aunt Rosmarin.</p>
-
-<p>“How so?” queried the Vicar, putting his hands in all
-of his pockets in a vain search for a handkerchief with which
-to wipe the perspiration from his brow.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s very likely you have your wig in your pocket,” said
-Auntie, “for your handkerchief is on your head.”</p>
-
-<p>“On my head,” exclaimed the Vicar in surprise, and
-putting his hand there he found it. “I shouldn’t be greatly
-surprised if you were right, Auntie; it’s a hot, hot day; the
-sun was burning, my back was burning; I came from town,
-so I took off my wig to cool my head, spread my handkerchief
-over the latter, and lay down in a corn-field.”</p>
-
-<p>Again he began to search his pockets, while Susie made
-room for him on the sofa, and went out to get him a refreshing
-drink of water and raspberry syrup.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span></p>
-
-<p>“What are you looking for, Vicar?” asked Auntie.</p>
-
-<p>“If I mistake not, I brought a letter for you from town;
-but what has become of it is more than I can tell. I think
-it is from the Burgomaster. Seek and ye shall find.”</p>
-
-<p>“But, Vicar, first of all, put on your wig—this is very
-indecent. It is an insult to your congregation to walk
-about bald-headed.”</p>
-
-<p>“I should hope not. But in that case I trust that there
-would be bears to obey me, like the prophet Elisha, and
-devour all bad boys who would make bold to have a laugh
-at me. But, <i>ad vocem</i>, my wig, Auntie; what did you do
-with it?”</p>
-
-<p>“What did I do with it? You did not entrust it to my
-keeping. Perhaps you lost it on the way!”</p>
-
-<p>“Heaven preserve us! It was my best wig. You are
-right, Auntie; it is lying in the grass, together with the Burgomaster’s
-letter, precisely on the spot where I myself lay a
-quarter of an hour ago, in the shadow of the corn.”</p>
-
-<p>Auntie seized her bell. The maid appeared; the Inspector
-was called, and ordered to send for the wig and the
-letter—as quick as possible. Auntie was quite as impatient
-to hide the Vicar’s baldness as to read the Burgomaster’s
-letter. The shape of the wig, as well as colour and address
-of the letter, were explicitly described to the Inspector, and
-he forthwith sent two grooms, four threshers, and one dairy-boy
-out upon all roads, footpaths, and byways that run
-between Nieder-Fahren and Waiblingen. He stationed
-himself upon the hill by the wind-mill and reconnoitred the
-field of action through a telescope. Such excellent arrangements
-could not fail to bring about the desired result. In
-half-an-hour the seven messengers returned to the house led
-by the wig, the letter, and the Inspector.</p>
-
-<p>Sure enough the letter was from the Burgomaster. It
-contained nothing less than a formal invitation to the Frau
-Obersteuerrätin, together with her brother and Fräulein<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>
-Susie and the Inspector Säblein, to the wedding of the
-Burgomaster’s eldest daughter.</p>
-
-<p>Although Auntie felt very much flattered by this attention
-of the Burgomaster, with whom she was but slightly
-acquainted, there were some difficulties in the way which
-must needs be talked over in a family council.</p>
-
-<p>Auntie was very much averse to bringing Susie into contact
-in any way with the young gentlemen of Waiblingen.
-First of all, Susie was seventeen years old—a fact which did
-not seem at all portentous to the child, but all the more so
-to her cautious aunt. Second, Susie was beautiful as any
-Susanna, not excepting the one in the Old Testament.
-Thirdly, she had the prospect of inheriting a considerable
-fortune, and Auntie had no notion of giving up her darling
-to the first-comer. Fourthly, Susie was exceedingly inexperienced,
-though she was not wanting in the usual measure
-of laudable curiosity.</p>
-
-<p>The young men of Waiblingen were in no way suited to
-be the companions of such a girl. First, because a great
-many of them were handsome, which is a very bad thing;
-and secondly, they were all great lovers of comedies and
-novels; they kept up an amateur stage; and at Waiblingen
-two booksellers made their living with circulating libraries—a
-bad sign of our times! Thirdly, even though one
-might have forgiven them their sleek faces and romantic
-tendencies, few of them had a fortune that would weigh in
-the scales against Aunt Rosmarin’s possessions, nor were
-they of a rank to be compared with the title of Obersteuerrat.</p>
-
-<p>Auntie had pondered this question long since in the
-silence of her own heart, and she had come to the conclusion
-that it was best to take defensive measures against
-the elegant world of Waiblingen. Susie seldom went there,
-and still seldomer were there any young guests invited to
-Nieder-Fahren.</p>
-
-<p>After ripe consideration it was decided in the family<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>
-council, in which the Inspector also took part, to go to the
-wedding at the Burgomaster’s, but not without the utmost
-caution.</p>
-
-<p>Auntie undertook to call Susie’s attention to the dangers
-arising out of the affections. The Vicar was to add spiritual
-admonition, and the Inspector—who had the reputation of
-having been a good waltzer in his younger years, while now
-he was unfortunately a bachelor of fifty-six—promised to
-renew Susie’s dancing-lessons. At the wedding all three
-pledged each other to do their best, and not lose the damsel
-out of sight.</p>
-
-<p>Hereupon tailors, shoemakers, and milliners were put in
-a fair way of getting a living. Auntie was desirous of
-doing whatever was due to her rank, and she also had the
-pardonable pride of showing off Susie’s beauty to the best
-advantage.</p>
-
-<p>Susie was delighted with the elaborate preparations—all
-this was a new experience. She put her dancing-master
-quite out of breath, and her only regret was that his feet
-being fifty-six years old were not as flexible as hers being
-seventeen. Joy and nature taught her to dance; but
-Säblein took it all upon his account. He was nothing loath
-to practise his noble half-forgotten art, the less so as the
-family council had decreed that he alone should be Susie’s
-partner at the wedding.</p>
-
-<p>Unfortunately this plan miscarried, and the reason was
-this. The day before the wedding all the dances were to
-be reviewed once more under the supervision of the Vicar
-and Auntie. Before the spectators came, Säblein exerted
-himself more than was good for him to dance at least no
-worse than his clever pupil. She floated about like a
-butterfly, and in her rapture took many a step which was
-no less graceful for not coming under any rule. Säblein, in
-an ecstasy of delight, rashly undertook to show her the
-acme of his art. Years ago he could dance <i>entrechats</i>,—ambition<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>
-pricked him to make a trial once more. His first
-attempt was half a failure, his second was a whole one.
-His lank, thin-whittled legs, which had never been a cause
-of reproach to him, got so hopelessly and abnormally
-entangled that, the rest of his body keeping in motion, a
-disaster was inevitable. The unfortunate dancing-master
-fell in a most <i>un</i>masterly manner upon the floor, and as a
-falling pine uproots all blooming bushes that surround it, so
-he pulled down the little sylph that was frolicking about him.</p>
-
-<p>The Vicar, just about to open the door from without,
-heard the fall which shook the very foundations of the
-house, and entered hastily. It was partly this haste and
-partly the Vicar’s near-sightedness, which he was wont to
-forget in his absent-mindedness, which became the cause of
-a second accident. He stepped upon the dancing-master’s
-leg, which the latter drew back with pardonable abruptness,
-thereby robbing the Vicar of his equilibrium. Before he
-had time to beg pardon he lay upon the floor along with the
-others. While his powdered wig was propelled by the rapid
-motion far under the sofa, his short legs performed some
-wonderful antics, and at last turned up their soles toward
-Heaven, as if imploring its aid.</p>
-
-<p>The whole occurrence was a very short one. The Vicar
-was the first to gather himself up, and, mistaking Susie’s
-snowy, befrilled cap for his escaped wig, he seized it without
-more ado, and covered his head therewith because he heard
-the Obersteuerrätin at the door. Susie was on her feet too
-before Auntie entered. But Säblein sat upon the floor
-making horrible faces, for he had hurt his hip.</p>
-
-<p>“Great heavens!” cried Aunt Rosmarin, clapping her
-hands together, and looking now at the Inspector’s
-painful grimaces, now at her brother’s head in a woman’s
-cap. “Are you playing a farce? Are you forgetful of all
-decency? Do you call this good breeding? and especially
-you, Vicar?”...</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span></p>
-
-<p>“And pray, why is it especially I?” he asked with a
-touch of sensitiveness, for he did not greatly like his sister’s
-sermons.</p>
-
-<p>Here Susie gained a hearing, and quickly restored peace
-by giving her perplexed aunt the explanation to this riddle,
-and laughingly exchanging her cap for the wig.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp85" id="i_054" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_054.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">THE VICAR HASTENING TO COVER HIS BALDNESS.</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>This apparently unimportant occurrence was the firs
-cause to all following misfortunes; for Säblein went
-limping about for many days, and consequently could not
-dance at the wedding.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>Aunt Rosmarin had her suspicions when she saw Susie,
-now swimming in bliss, now abject and mournful, or when
-she heard how Susie went walking in the park evening after<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>
-evening, and when she herself, putting aside her dread of
-rheumatism, secretly followed her there, but always found
-Susie alone.</p>
-
-<p>Auntie shook her head, and said to her brother: “I
-believe, Vicar, our little baroness is in love.” She had hit
-it, but wise Auntie never thought of the baron. “We
-must keep our eyes on this marvellously mysterious child,
-for she will confess nothing to me. It is a delicate task, I
-know, and I myself am too old to run after her in the park
-every day the Lord makes. And, of course, Vicar, it is not
-a matter to be entrusted to the domestics; that were contrary
-to all dignity and order. But at the same time she
-must be watched, for these constant visits to the park for
-the last fortnight must have some good reason.”</p>
-
-<p>“Trust me, Auntie,” said the Vicar—“trust me; I will
-guard the park like a spy. Murder shall out. This is just
-the sort of thing that suits me.”</p>
-
-<p>The plans were laid with great subtlety. The Vicar
-looked unconcerned in Susie’s presence, and the following
-day at sunset he started upon his errand.</p>
-
-<p>He was indeed very lucky, for the Baron was really in
-the park. He was twice lucky, for it so happened that he
-entered the park from the side where it touched the woods,
-and where the Baron was wont to enter it. He was in the
-habit of leaving his horse there, and giving it to the servant
-to hold.</p>
-
-<p>The servant, finding his task decidedly dull, had to-day
-tied the Baron’s horse to a young birch-tree and gone about
-his own affairs. The Vicar looked at the elegantly-equipped
-noble steed from all sides, and nodding his head thoughtfully,
-unfastened it, saying to himself, “I’ll take it home to
-our stable; the owner will no doubt apply for it, and all the
-rest will follow. In truth, it’s a shrewd plan!”</p>
-
-<p>But there was an unfavourable circumstance. There
-seemed to be a secret understanding between the horse<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>
-and his master. He most decidedly objected to being
-pulled along by the bridle; no amount of patting and
-caressing had any effect; he planted his fore-legs firmly on
-the ground and pulled his head back.</p>
-
-<p>“Friend,” said the Vicar, “at best you are but a beast,
-and you have no eyes behind your ears. I’ll wager you will
-go willingly.” With that he climbed upon the noble animal’s
-back, which stood as patient as a lamb. To be sure it was
-thirty years or more since the good Vicar had been on horseback,
-and, moreover, his legs were about two inches too
-short for the stirrups; but then it was to be but a few
-moments’ ride, and it was well to show Aunt Rosmarin
-that he had not forgotten the chivalrous arts over his theology.
-Over and above all this there was danger in delay.</p>
-
-<p>So he belaboured the horse’s shanks with his boots, and
-the steed, taken aback by such ill-treatment, at once began
-to canter along the woody path, across the field into the
-open road, having for weeks past traversed no other way
-than this with the Baron. The Vicar, in danger of losing
-his balance, with laudable precaution clasped his fingers in
-the mane of his Pegasus. Finding himself upon the road,
-however, instead of parading under Auntie’s window, he tried
-to grasp the bridle. Over this attempt he came very near
-losing both stirrups. Making sure of these once more, he
-let the bridle alone. For a while these two purposes warred
-with each other, and between times he admonished the
-fiery horse with many caresses to stand still. But it was
-all in vain; and when in his despair he pulled the line too
-tight, at the same time clasping the horse’s sides firmly with
-his legs, it forthwith rose upon its hind feet, and, to his
-inexpressible horror, began to walk about like a human
-being, and perform tricks which were positively not to the
-Vicar’s taste just at that moment.</p>
-
-<p>He now succumbed to fate and to his horse, clinging to
-the latter with hands and feet while it sped along at a full<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>
-gallop till the poor Vicar was deaf and blind with dizziness.</p>
-
-<p>“Out of the depths have I cried unto Thee,” he sighed.
-“If this isn’t the very devil himself! Had I but left the
-beast standing where I was how happy should I be!”</p>
-
-<p>It so happened that right here the road had been barred
-by peasants in honour of the grazing cattle.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp91" id="i_057_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_057.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“FELT THE WAVES PENETRATE HIS BLACK SILK STOCKINGS.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Te Deum laudamus!” cried the Vicar. “Here surely
-this rascal of a horse will come to a stand.” But the steed
-leaped over as if he had wings, so that the horseman’s hair
-stood on end, and his hat and wig took flight in horror.
-“I have learned to ride better than you, for I still hold
-my seat,” said the good Vicar in Christian tranquillity to
-the truants, not venturing to turn and look after them.</p>
-
-<p>“Whither, in the Lord’s name? Twice four-and-twenty
-hours at this rate and we shall have spanned this terrestrial<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>
-globe and come out on the other side at Nieder-Fahren.”
-As he was saying this they approached a bridge. The
-Vicar, in terror lest the horse in its blind rage might miss
-the bridge and leap into the stream, tugged frantically at the
-line on the side nearest to the bridge. But he tugged too
-long; the provoking animal thereupon left the bridge lying
-at the right, and jumped into the water. The Vicar came
-very near fainting away when he became aware of floating
-between heaven and water, and felt the waves penetrate his
-black silk stockings, and soon after his velvet breeches,
-until they played about his hips.</p>
-
-<p>The horse, which was a capital swimmer, reached the
-opposite shore in safety, regained the road, and jauntily
-continued its journey until it reached Schloss Malzen, where
-it darted joyfully with the Vicar into the open door of the
-stable, standing still at last in its own familiar stall.</p>
-
-<p>The servants in the courtyard ran in after him, helped
-the rider out of the saddle, and anxiously inquired how he
-had come into possession of the Baron’s horse.</p>
-
-<p>An unspeakable sense of blissful security seized the much-tried
-clergyman as once more he felt <i>terra-firma</i> beneath
-his feet. Deprived of his hat and his wig, to be sure, and
-the lower half of his body dripping with water, far from home,
-the approaching night before him, and upon the domain
-of the arch-enemy of Nieder-Fahren—all these circumstances
-served to make the situation not altogether agreeable. But
-what cared he so long as his life was saved?</p>
-
-<p>While the servants were storming the breathless gentleman
-with questions the Baron’s steward appeared upon the scene,
-and hospitably urged him to come into the house. As upon
-his request a carriage was promised him to take him back to
-Nieder-Fahren, he consented to enter and rest before his
-departure. Meanwhile nearly two hours passed; no carriage
-appeared, and the Vicar began to wax suspicious lest he
-was being treated as a prisoner for having run away with the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>
-horse, although he had repeatedly affirmed that it was he
-who had been run away with. He finally decided to take
-flight. He arose, and was about to open the door, when
-Baron Pompeius von Malzen entered, having arrived upon
-his lackey’s horse while the despairing lackey was on a search
-for the Baron’s steed through the whole of Ober and Nieder-Fahren.</p>
-
-<p>The Baron, recognising the worthy uncle of his wife—the
-tale concerning the arrival of the horse with a wigless and
-decidedly damp clergyman had been related to him in the
-courtyard—at once escorted him to a better room, ordered
-dry clothing, and gave the Vicar time to change his garments.
-His departure was quite out of the question for that night;
-the Baron would not let the opportunity escape him to
-heap coals of fire upon the head of one of his adversaries,
-to entertain him sumptuously, and overwhelm him with
-courtesies.</p>
-
-<p>Susie’s uncle, surprised at the Baron’s cordial manner,
-soon felt very comfortable behind smoking viands and
-bottles of Burgundy. Still, however soft and firm he sat
-upon the luxurious cushions of his chair, he could not for
-the whole evening rid himself of the notion, as he said, of
-having “the hellish beast” between his legs.</p>
-
-<p>“At the same time I am more grateful to my good horse
-than I can tell you,” said the Baron, “for bringing me the
-uncle of my beloved wife. I have long wished for the
-honour of your acquaintance, so that I might beg for your
-kind intercession. I adore my wife, and a separation is
-about to be forced upon us. My wife has forgiven me—nay,
-more, she loves me; she does not desire a separation,
-and yet——”</p>
-
-<p>“Loves you? Does not desire a separation?” cried the
-Vicar, shaking his head, which was adorned with the Baron’s
-best cotton night-cap.</p>
-
-<p>“Will you have proofs?” said the Baron. “Ah, I will<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>
-be frank with our dear uncle. You shall know all. This
-hour may decide our life’s happiness.” He thereupon went
-and fetched Susie’s letters.</p>
-
-<p>And indeed from his niece’s letters the Vicar saw that
-between her and the Baron there was eternal peace, and a
-great deal more that is eternal.</p>
-
-<p>He seemed greatly touched as he laid the letters down;
-he stretched out his hand across the table, and said—</p>
-
-<p>“Baron, I for my part will make peace with you. Susie
-shall be yours, and the law-suit may go to the dogs. But
-we must handle Aunt Rosmarin carefully. She is a dear,
-good woman, but she has peculiar ideas about some things.
-Up to this day I was a raging Saul, henceforth I shall be a
-gentle Paul, and shall begin at once upon my work of
-conversion.”</p>
-
-<p>The Baron jumped up, embracing and kissing brave Saul
-in a rapture of delight.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>Meanwhile Aunt Rosmarin had heard her brother relate
-the story of his adventure. When he told her how he
-found the horse, her eyes sparkled with pleasure at the
-discovery. The fact of his getting into the saddle she
-accompanied with the remark: “You don’t know how to
-ride. Every cobbler to his last!” When he came to his
-aerial flight across the bar, and his swim through the
-stream, she jumped up, nervously seized her brother’s two
-hands and cried, “For heaven’s sake, what dangers were
-you subject to!” And she did not regain her composure
-until he halted before the horse’s crib. Then, as the Baron
-came in, her face lengthened; the warmer the Vicar grew
-in chanting his praises the cooler was Aunt Rosmarin.
-And when he had the audacity to add, “Susie does not seem
-to dislike the Baron; seems to me we had better let the law-suit
-go, and let things take their course,” Auntie shook her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>
-head, while she gazed at her brother from top to toe with
-wide open eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I never!” said she. “I fear me the ride and the
-fright have done you some injury. If the Baron did not
-turn you out into the pitch-dark night, giving you lodging
-and food instead, he did no more than heathens and
-barbarians would have done. You need not think I’ll give
-him Susie for his roasts and his Burgundy. A weak sort
-of man you must be to be willing to sacrifice your principles
-and all the disgrace and sorrow our family has suffered
-through the Baron for one poor supper.”</p>
-
-<p>Then did the Vicar arise in indignation and say, “Why,
-Aunt Rosmarin, has all Christian charity gone out of you?
-I wish then that <i>you</i> had ridden the Baron’s horse in my
-stead; I wish <i>you</i> had been called upon to fly through the
-air, and to swim through the surging billows, to make the
-acquaintance of an honourable man. Then you would
-think different.”</p>
-
-<p>Aunt Rosmarin thought her brother’s remarkable wish
-very improper, as well as insulting. She thereupon gave
-him a lecture lasting three hours, and having for its
-perpetual refrain, “I will not hear another word about the
-Baron. In future I shall act alone, in strict accordance with
-my principles.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Heinrich Zschokke</i> (1771-1848).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_MAN_WHO_SOLD_HIS_SHADOW"><i>THE MAN WHO SOLD HIS SHADOW.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">W</span>HAT was my horror to see the man in grey come
-behind with the evident purpose of accosting me.
-He raised his hat and bowed with a more profound obeisance
-than I had ever been honoured with. I returned the
-courtesy, and stood bare-headed in the sun as if rooted to
-the ground. I stared at him in an agony of terror, like
-a bird under the spell of a serpent. He seemed greatly
-embarrassed, did not raise his eyes, bowed repeatedly,
-approached me, and began to speak in a gentle, wavering
-voice, with the tone of a mendicant.</p>
-
-<p>“I trust your Honour will have the kindness to pardon
-my presumption in venturing to address you, being a
-stranger. I have a very particular request to make.
-Graciously permit me, sir——”</p>
-
-<p>“For heaven’s sake,” I cried in terror, “what can I do
-for a man who——” We both stopped, and, as it seemed
-to me, we blushed.</p>
-
-<p>After a moment of silence he began again. “During the
-short time that it was my good fortune to enjoy the presence
-of your company, I have had occasion more than once to
-gaze—if you will permit me to say so—with inexpressible
-admiration upon the well-formed, handsome shadow which,
-with an air of noble disdain, as if scorning to set any value
-upon it, you cast behind you. It is a superb shadow you
-have there lying at your feet. Pardon the temerity of the
-suggestion; would it be possible to induce you to sell this
-same shadow to me?”</p>
-
-<p>He ceased speaking, and it seemed as if a wheel were
-going around in my head. What was I to make of this
-remarkable proposition? He must be crazy, I thought, and
-in an altered voice, more suited to the humility of his tone,
-I replied—</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Go to, good friend; have you not enough with your own
-shadow? What you propose is a very strange bargain.”
-He interrupted me with, “I have many a useful thing in
-my pocket that your Honour might find convenient; for
-this inestimable shadow there is no price I should deem too
-high. To show my gratitude to you, sir, I would give you
-your own choice of all the treasures I carry about with me.
-I have miraculous wands of the witch-hazel, I have
-Mercury’s cap and potent draughts, the dish-cloth of
-Roland’s page, and a Homunculus, but best of all is the
-magic purse of Fortunatus.” “A magic purse,” I interrupted
-him, and great as was my horror, he had captured my
-sensibilities with that word. A deathly giddiness came over
-me, and rows of ducats seemed to twinkle before my eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Would your Honour have the goodness to examine the
-purse?” He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a
-medium-sized, strongly-made bag of leather, with heavy
-leather cords for draw-strings, and handed me the same.
-I put my hand in and pulled out ten golden coins, and ten
-more, and ten more, and ten more. I held out my hand
-to him: “It is a bargain; for the bag I’ll give you my
-shadow.” He clasped my hand to seal the bargain, and
-then quickly knelt down before me, and with marvellous
-dexterity loosening my shadow from the grass, he lifted it,
-rolled it up, folded it, and at last put it in his pocket. He
-arose, bowed once more, and then vanished among the rose
-bushes. Methought I heard him laugh softly to himself. I
-held the bag tightly in my hands. Round about me the
-earth was bright with sunshine, and within me there was as
-yet no wisdom.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>Meanwhile it had grown late, and, unnoticed, the dawn
-preceding sunrise was brightening the sky. It was a very
-unpleasant surprise when I looked up and saw the glory of
-colour unfold in the east. There was no refuge on this open<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>
-plain that I was traversing from the approaching sun, and that
-too at an hour when shadows sport their utmost extension!
-And I was not alone! I glanced at my companion, and once
-more I trembled. He was no other than the man in grey.</p>
-
-<p>He smiled at my consternation, and continued, without
-giving me time to speak: “Let us, true to the custom of
-the world, be united for a while by the reciprocal advantages
-to be derived from such a union; we have time enough to
-separate later on. This road which you are taking happens
-to be my road also. I see you turn pale before the rising
-sun. I will lend you your shadow for the time of our companionship,
-and in return I will ask you to tolerate me at
-your side. You have lost your servant Bendel; I will yield
-you as good service. You do not look upon me with favour;
-this I greatly regret. I can be of service to you, nevertheless.
-The devil is not as black as he is painted. It is true
-you offended me yesterday; to-day I bear you no ill-will, and
-I have shortened the way for you so far, as you yourself
-must confess. Will you not give your shadow a trial?”</p>
-
-<p>The sun had risen, early wayfarers came along the road;
-however distasteful it might be, I accepted his proposal.
-Smiling, he allowed my shadow to glide upon the ground. It
-fell into place on the shadow of my horse, and cheerily trotted
-along beside me. Strange feelings took possession of me.
-I rode past a group of country people, who, with uncovered
-head, respectfully made room for a person of quality. I rode on,
-and looked with greedy eyes and a beating heart down from
-my horse upon the shadow that once was mine, and which
-I had now borrowed from a stranger, ay, from an enemy.</p>
-
-<p>The latter walked unconcernedly beside me, whistling a
-tune—he on foot, I on horseback! A tremor seized me;
-the temptation was too great; I suddenly turned my horse’s
-head, gave him the spurs, and off I went in a full canter
-down a byway; but I did not succeed in bringing the
-shadow with me; as the horse turned it slipped down, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>
-awaited its lawful master in the road. There was nothing
-for it but a shamefaced admission of defeat. I rode back,
-and the man in grey, first finishing the tune he was whistling,
-laughed at me, pulled my shadow straight again, and informed
-me that it would not stick to me, and be content to
-stay with me, until it was once more my lawful property. “I
-hold you by your shadow,” he added; “and you will not
-escape me. A rich man like you cannot get on without a
-shadow. You are to be blamed in so far as you did not
-find that out before.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp74" id="i_065_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_065.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“OFF I WENT IN A FULL CANTER.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>A. von Chamisso</i> (1781-1838).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp66" id="i_066_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_066.jpg" alt="">
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak"><i>THE GHOST
-OF
-DR. ASCHER.</i></h2></div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE night I spent at Goslar something very remarkable
-occurred. Terror seizes me even now as I think
-back. I am not timid by nature, but I have a mortal terror
-of ghosts. What is fear? Is it a product of the understanding
-or of the soul? About this question I had many
-a discussion with Dr. Saul Ascher in Berlin when we met
-in the Café Royal, where I used to dine. He would have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>
-it that we fear a thing because our reason recognises therein
-due cause for terror. While I was eating and drinking to
-my satisfaction he was fond of constantly demonstrating the
-fine qualities of Reason. Toward the end of his demonstration
-he would look at his watch, and he always ended with:
-“Reason is the highest principle!” Reason! When I so
-much as hear the word I see before me Dr. Ascher with his
-abstract legs, his tight waistcoat of transcendental grey, and
-his harsh bitter-cold face, which might have served as a
-title-vignette to a book on geometry. The man was a
-straight line personified. In his search after the Positive
-the poor man had philosophised all grandeur out of life, all
-sunbeams, all faith, and all flowers, and all that remained to
-him was a cold, positive grave. He cherished a pet aversion
-for the Apollo of Belvedere and for Christianity. He
-even went so far as to write a pamphlet about the latter,
-proving it to be unreasonable and untenable. Indeed he
-wrote a host of books, in each of which Reason brags of
-its own excellence. The poor Doctor was serious enough
-about it, and in this respect they deserve esteem. But it
-was just this which was the best joke of all—that he would
-put on so fatuously serious a mien when he could not
-understand what every child understands by very reason of
-its childhood. I called upon this reasonable Doctor in his
-own house once or twice, and I found beautiful women
-there, for Reason does not forbid sensuality. Once when I
-intended to call upon him his servant said: “The Doctor
-has just died.” It did not impress me any more strongly
-than if he had said: “The Doctor is gone out.”</p>
-
-<p>But to return to Goslar. “The highest principle is
-Reason!” I said consolingly to myself as I got into bed.
-It did not answer the purpose, however. I had just been
-reading that horrible story in Varnhagen von Ense’s
-<i>Deutsche Erzählungen</i>, which I had brought with me
-from Clansthal, how a son, whose father intended to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>
-murder him, was warned at night by his mother’s ghost.
-The marvellous effectiveness of the story caused me to
-shiver with horror while reading. Then, too, ghost stories
-excite the most uncanny sensations when read on a journey,
-and especially at night in a town, in a house, in a room
-where one has never been. How many horrible things
-may have happened upon this very spot where I am now
-lying? One cannot refrain from conjecturing. Moreover,
-the moon shone so doubtfully into the room; all sorts of
-uncalled-for shadows were moving along the wall, and
-when I raised myself in bed to look closer, I saw——</p>
-
-<p>There is nothing more weird than to come unintentionally
-upon one’s own face in a mirror by the light of the moon.
-At the same moment a lumbering sleepy clock began to
-strike, and, moreover, it struck so long and so slowly that
-after the twelfth stroke I verily believed twelve hours had
-gone by, and it would have to begin over again and strike
-twelve once more. Between the last beat and the last but
-one, another clock struck very rapidly with a rasping shrillness,
-put out of temper perhaps by the dulness of its kinswoman.
-When at last both iron tongues subsided and the
-silence of death reigned in the house, it seemed to me
-suddenly as if I heard something slur and drag along the
-passage just outside of my door like the unsteady gait of
-a man. At last my door was opened, and slowly the late
-Dr. Saul Ascher walked into my room. A cold chill passed
-through my bones. I trembled like a leaf, and hardly did
-I dare to look at the ghost. He looked just the same
-as ever—the same transcendental grey waistcoat, the same
-abstract legs, and the same mathematical face; only that
-the latter was a little yellower than I remembered it, and
-the mouth, which had always formed two angles of 22½
-degrees, was tightly shut, and the circles of his eyes had a
-longer radius. Wavering and leaning, as had been his
-custom, upon a slender stick, he approached me, and in his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>
-usual lazy dialect said pleasantly, “Do not be afraid, and
-don’t believe me to be a ghost. It is an illusion of the
-senses if you imagine you see a ghost. What is a ghost?
-Give me a definition. Deduce the conditions for the
-possibility of a ghost. In what reasonable relation to your
-reason would such a phenomenon be! Reason, I say
-Reason——”</p>
-
-<p>And now the ghost proceeded to analyse Reason, quoting
-Kant, Part 2, Division 1, Book 2, Proposition 3, “The distinction
-between phenomena and noumena,” constructing
-the problematic belief in ghosts, piling syllogism upon
-syllogism with the logical conclusion that there is positively
-no such thing as a ghost. All the while the perspiration
-was cold upon my back, my teeth were chattering; in my
-terror I nodded unqualified assent to every sentence in
-which the spook-doctor had proved the absurdity of my
-fears, and the latter was demonstrating so eagerly that in a
-moment of abstraction, instead of his gold watch he pulled
-a handful of worms out of his vest pocket, and discovering
-his error he replaced them with ridiculous nervous haste.
-“Reason is the highest——” The clock struck one, and
-the ghost vanished.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Heinrich Heine</i> (1799-1856).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="TOURISTS_AT_THE_BROCKEN"><i>TOURISTS AT THE BROCKEN.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">U</span>PON entering the Brocken-house a somewhat unusual
-romantic mood came over me. After long and lonely
-wanderings among rocks and hemlocks, one seems suddenly
-transported to a house in the clouds. I found the house
-full of guests; and as it becomes a man of wise foresight, I
-thought of the night and of the discomfort pertaining to a
-couch of straw. With a dying voice I ordered tea, whereupon
-the Herr host was so reasonable as to be convinced
-that an invalid like me must needs have a decent bed....
-Having refreshed myself, I climbed up to the look-out, and
-found a diminutive gentleman with two ladies, one young,
-the other elderly. When I was a boy I thought of nothing
-but of wondrous fairy-tales, and every pretty woman with
-ostrich feathers on her head I took to be a fairy-queen. If
-by good chance the hem of her dress was bedraggled, I took
-her for a water-nymph. Had I looked upon the fair
-one with those boyish eyes, had I seen her then upon the
-Brocken, I should certainly have said to myself, this is
-the sylph of the mountain, and she has just uttered the
-charm which makes all below appear so wondrously beautiful.
-What relation the very lithe gentleman bore to
-the ladies whom he accompanied I could not ascertain.
-His was a thin peculiar figure. His little head, sparsely
-covered with grey hair, which fell over his low forehead
-nearly to his pale greenish eyes; his clumsy nose far protruding;
-his mouth and chin timidly drawing back in the
-direction of his ears. This little face seemed to be modelled
-out of a certain kind of delicate, yellowish clay, such as
-sculptors use for their first design; and when his narrow
-lips were shut tight, a thousand little folds, light and semi-circular,
-covered his cheeks. The little man did not say a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>
-word, only now and then, when the elder lady whispered
-something kind to him, he would smile like a pug with a
-cold in his head.... While we were speaking it began to
-grow dusk; the air grew chillier, the sun sank lower, and
-students, travelling journeymen, and a couple of honest
-bourgeois with their wives and daughters, crowded upon the
-platform to see the sunset. It is a marvellous sight, tuning
-the soul to prayer. During a quarter of an hour we all
-stood in solemn silence, and saw the gorgeous globe of fire
-slowly sink in the west; our faces reflected the evening
-glory, our hands were folded involuntarily; it seemed as if
-we stood a silent congregation in the aisle of a cathedral,
-and the priest was holding up the body of the Lord, and
-from the organ sounded Palestrina’s immortal anthem.</p>
-
-<p>As I stood thus enwrapped in the fervour of devotion, I
-heard some one calling out beside me, “How beautiful is
-nature on the whole!” These words proceeded out of the
-overflowing breast of my room-mate, the young merchant.
-I was at once landed thereby in my work-day mood, and
-was now able to make a great many brilliant remarks to the
-ladies about the sunset. I escorted them to their room
-as if nothing had happened. I believe we talked about
-Angora cats, Etruscan vases, Turkish shawls, macaroni,
-and Lord Byron, from whose poems the elder lady recalled
-some sunset passages, which she recited with a pretty lisp
-and sigh. To the younger lady, who did not know English,
-and expressed a wish to read these poems, I recommended
-some excellent translations. Upon this occasion I did not
-fail to declaim, as it is my custom to do when conversing
-with young ladies, against Byron’s impiety, heartlessness,
-hopelessness, and heaven knows what all.</p>
-
-<p>It was the coffee’s fault that I had forgotten my pretty
-lady. She was standing outside of the door with her
-mother and companion, preparing to get into the carriage.
-There was but just time for me to step up to her briskly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>
-and assure her that it was cold. She seemed displeased
-that I had not come sooner; but I smoothed the pettish
-frown from her fair brow by bestowing a wonderful flower
-upon her, which I had picked the day before from a steep
-precipice at the danger of breaking my neck. Her mother
-demanded the name of the flower, considering it improper
-as it were for her daughter to wear a strange, unknown
-flower upon her bosom. Her taciturn companion unexpectedly
-opened his mouth, counted the stamens of the
-flower, and dryly remarked that it belonged to the eighth
-class. It aggravates me when I see how God’s dear flowers
-are parcelled off into classes as well as we, and indeed,
-according to a method no less superficial—viz., the difference
-in the number of stamens. If there must be
-subdivision, it would be well to follow the suggestion of
-Theophrast, who would have flowers classified according to
-their spirit—that is, their fragrance. So far as I am concerned,
-I have my own system in natural science, and
-according to it I classify all things—into those that are
-good to eat, and those that are not.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Heinrich Heine.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="MY_APPRECIATIVE_FRIEND"><i>MY APPRECIATIVE FRIEND.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">H</span>E called my attention to the utility and perfect adaptation
-of nature. The trees are green, it seems, because
-green is good for one’s eyes. I assented, and added that God
-has created cattle, because broth is strengthening to men,
-and that he has created asses that we might have a means
-of comparison, and that he has created man himself to eat
-broth and be no ass. My companion was enchanted to
-have found a congenial spirit; his countenance beamed
-happiness, and at parting he seemed deeply touched.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Heinrich Heine.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="MADAM_DO_YOU_KNOW_THE_OLD_PLAY">“<i>MADAM, DO YOU KNOW THE OLD PLAY?</i>”</h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>“She was lovable, and he loved her. But he was not lovable, and
-she did not love him.”—<i>Old Play.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">M</span>ADAM, do you know the old play? It is quite an
-extraordinary play, only a little too melancholy. I
-once played the leading part in it myself, so that all the
-ladies wept; only one did not weep, not even a single tear,
-and that was the point of the play, the whole catastrophe.</p>
-
-<p>Oh, that single tear! it still torments my thoughts.
-When Satan wishes to ruin my soul, he hums in my ear a
-ballad of that unwept tear, a deadly song with a more deadly
-tune. Ah, such a tune is only heard in hell!</p>
-
-<p>You can readily form an idea, Madam, of what life is
-like in heaven, the <i>more</i> readily as you are married. There
-people amuse themselves altogether superbly, every sort of
-entertainment is provided, and one lives in mere desire
-and delight. One eats from morning to night, and the
-cookery is as good as Fagor’s; roast geese fly round with
-gravy-boats in their bills, and feel flattered if any one eats
-them; tarts gleaming with butter grow wild like sunflowers;
-everywhere there are brooks of bouillon and champagne,
-everywhere trees on which napkins flutter, and you eat and
-wipe your lips and eat again without injury to your stomach;
-you sing psalms or flirt and joke with the dear, delicate
-little angels, or take a walk on the green Hallelujah-meadow;
-and your white flowing garments fit very comfortably;
-and nothing disturbs the feeling of blessedness; no
-pain, no vexation—even when one accidentally treads on
-another’s corns and exclaims, “<i>Excusez</i>,” he smiles as if
-enraptured, and assures, “Thy foot, brother, did not hurt
-in the least; quite <i>au contraire</i>—a deeper thrill of heavenly
-rapture shoots through my heart!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span></p>
-
-<p>But of hell, Madam, you have no idea. Of all the devils
-you know perhaps only the little Amor, the pretty croupier
-of hell, Beelzebub, and you know him only from Don Juan,
-and doubtless think that for such a betrayer of innocence
-hell can never be made hot enough, though our praiseworthy
-theatre directors spend upon him as much flame,
-fiery rain, powder, and colophoniam as any Christian could
-desire in hell. But things in hell look much worse than
-our theatre directors know, or they would not bring out so
-many bad plays. For in hell it is infernally hot, and
-when I was there in the dog-days it was past endurance.
-Madam, you can have no idea of hell! We have very few
-official returns from the place. Still, it is rank calumny to
-say that down there all the poor souls are compelled to read
-the whole day long all the dull sermons that are printed on
-earth. Bad as hell is, it has not come to that; Satan will
-never invent such refinements of torture. On the other
-hand, Dante’s description is too mild on the whole, too
-poetic. Hell appeared to me like a great kitchen, with an
-endless long stove, on which stood three rows of iron pots,
-and in these sat the damned and were cooked. In one
-row were placed Christian sinners, and, incredible as it may
-seem, their number was anything but small, and the devils
-poked the fire up under them with especial good-will. In
-the next row were Jews, who continually screamed and
-cried, and were occasionally mocked by the fiends, which
-sometimes seemed very amusing, as, for instance, when a
-fat, wheezy, old pawnbroker complained of the heat, and a
-little devil poured several buckets of cold water on his head,
-that he might realise what a refreshing benefit baptism was.
-In the third row sat the heathen, who, like the Jews, could
-take no part in salvation, and must burn for ever. I heard
-one of these, as a burly devil put fresh coals under his
-kettle, cry out from his spot, “Spare me! I was Socrates,
-the wisest of mortals. I taught Truth and Justice, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>
-sacrificed my life for Virtue.” But the stupid, burly devil
-went on with his work and grumbled, “Oh, shut up there!
-All heathens must burn, and we cannot make an exception
-for the sake of a single man.” I assure you, Madam, the
-heat was terrible, with such a screaming, sighing, groaning,
-quacking, grunting, squealing—and through all these terrible
-sounds rang distinctly the deadly tune of the song of the
-unwept tear.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>“She was lovable, and he loved her. But he was not lovable, and
-she did not love him.”—<i>Old Play.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Madam, that old play is a tragedy, though the hero
-in it is neither killed nor commits suicide. The eyes of the
-heroine are beautiful, very beautiful. Madam, do you smell
-the perfume of violets?—very beautiful, and yet so piercing
-that they struck like poignards of glass through my heart,
-and probably came out through my back, and yet I was not
-killed by those treacherous, murderous eyes. The voice of
-the heroine was also sweet. Madam, did you hear a nightingale
-just then?—a soft silken voice, a sweet web of the
-sunniest tones, and my soul was entangled in it and choked,
-and tormented itself. I myself—it is the Count of Ganges
-who now speaks, and the story goes on in Venice—I myself
-soon had enough of these tortures, and had thoughts of
-putting an end to the play in the first act, and of shooting
-myself through the head, fool’s cap and all. I went to a
-fancy shop in the Via Burstah, where I saw a pair of
-beautiful pistols in a case—I remember them perfectly well.
-Near them stood many pleasant playthings of mother-of-pearl
-and gold, steel hearts on gilt chains, porcelain cups
-with delicate devices, and snuff-boxes with pretty pictures,
-such as the divine history of Susanna, the Swan Song of
-Leda, the Rape of the Sabines, Lucretia, a fat, virtuous
-creature, with naked bosom, in which she was lazily sticking
-a dagger; the late Bethmann, <i>la belle Ferronière</i>—all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>
-enrapturing faces—but I bought the pistols without much
-ado, and then I bought balls, then powder, and then I
-went to the restaurant of Signor Somebody and ordered
-oysters and a glass of Hock.</p>
-
-<p>I could eat nothing, and still less could I drink. The
-warm tears fell in the glass, and in that glass I saw my dear
-home, the holy, blue Ganges, the ever-gleaming Himalaya,
-the giant banyan woods, amid whose broad arcades calmly
-wandered wise elephants and white-robed pilgrims; strange,
-dream-like flowers gazed on me with meaning glance,
-wondrous golden birds sang wildly, flashing sun-rays, and
-the sweet, silly chatter of monkeys pleasantly mocked me;
-from far pagodas sounded the pious prayers of priests, and
-amid all rang the melting, wailing voice of the Sultana of
-Delhi. She ran impetuously around in her carpeted
-chamber, she tore her silver veil, with her peacock fan she
-struck the black slave to the ground, she wept, she raged,
-she cried. I could not, however, hear what she said; the
-restaurant of Signor Somebody is three thousand miles
-distant from the harem of Delhi, besides the fair sultana
-had been dead three thousand years, and I quickly drank
-up the wine, the clear, joy-giving wine, and yet my soul grew
-darker and sadder—I was condemned to death.</p>
-
-<p>As I left the restaurant I heard the “bell of poor
-sinners” ring, a crowd of people swept by me; but I
-placed myself at the corner of the Strada San Giovanni,
-and recited the following monologue:—</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">In ancient tales they tell of golden castles,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Where harps are sounding, lovely ladies dance,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And gay attendants gleam, and jessamine,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Myrtle, and roses spread their soft perfume—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And yet a single word of sad enchantment</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Sweeps all the glory of the scene to naught,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And there remain but ruins old and grey,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And screaming birds of night and foul morass.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Even so have I, with but a single word,</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Enchanted Nature’s blooming loveliness.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">There lies she now, lifeless, cold, and pale,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Just like a monarch’s corse laid out in state,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The royal deathly cheeks fresh stained with rouge,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And in his hand the kingly sceptre laid,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Yet still his lips are yellow, and most changed,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">For they forgot to dye them, as they should,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And mice are jumping o’er the monarch’s nose,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And mock the golden sceptre in his grasp.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin">It is everywhere agreed, Madam, that one should deliver a
-soliloquy before shooting himself. Most men on such
-occasions use Hamlet’s “To be, or not to be.” It is an
-excellent passage, and I would gladly have quoted it—but
-charity begins at home, and when a man has written
-tragedies himself, in which such farewell-to-life speeches
-occur as, for instance, in my immortal <i>Almansor</i>, it is very
-natural that one should prefer his own words even to
-Shakespeare’s. At any rate, the delivery of such speeches
-is a very useful custom; one gains at least a little time.
-And so it came to pass that I remained a rather long time
-standing at the corner Strada San Giovanni—and as I stood
-there like a condemned criminal awaiting death, I raised
-my eyes and suddenly beheld her. She wore her blue
-silk dress and rose-red hat, and her eyes looked at me so
-mildly, so death-conqueringly, so life-givingly—Madam,
-you well know, out of Roman history, that when the vestals
-in ancient Rome met on their way a malefactor led to death
-they had the right to pardon him, and the poor rogue lived.
-With a single glance she saved me from death, and I stood
-before her revived, and dazzled by the sunbeams of her
-beauty, and she passed on—and left me alive.</p>
-
-<p>And she left me alive, and I live, which is the main point.</p>
-
-<p>Others may, if they choose, enjoy the good fortune of
-having their lady-love adorn their grave with garlands, and
-water them with the tears of fidelity. Oh, women! hate
-me, laugh at me, jilt me, but let me live! Life is all too<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>
-laughably sweet, and the world too delightfully bewildered;
-it is the dream of an intoxicated god, who has taken French
-leave of the carousing multitude of immortals, and has laid
-himself down to sleep in a solitary star, and knows not
-himself that he created all that he dreams—and the dream-images
-form themselves in such a mad, variegated fashion,
-and often so harmoniously reasonable—the Iliad, Plato, the
-battle of Marathon, Moses, Medician Venus, Strasburg
-Cathedral, the French Revolution, Hegel, the steamboat,
-etc., etc., are single good thoughts in this divine dream—but
-it will not last long, and the god awakes, and rubs his
-sleepy eyes, and smiles—and our world has run to nothing—yes,
-has never been.</p>
-
-<p>No matter! I live. If I am but a shadowy image in a
-dream, still this is better than the cold, black, void, annihilation
-of Death. Life is the greatest good, and death the
-worst evil. Berlin lieutenants of the guard may sneer and
-call it cowardice because the Prince of Homburg shudders
-when he beholds his open grave. Henry Kleist had, however,
-as much courage as his high-breasted, tightly-laced
-colleagues, and has, alas! proved it. But all strong men
-love life. Goethe’s Egmont does not part willingly from
-the “cheerful wont of being and working.” Immermann’s
-Edwin clings to life “like a little child to his mother’s
-breast,” and though he finds it hard to live by stranger
-mercy, he still begs for mercy: “For life and breath is still
-the highest.”</p>
-
-<p>When Odysseus in the under-world sees Achilles as the
-leader of dead heroes, and extols his renown among the
-living, and his glory even among the dead, Achilles
-answers—</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“No more discourse of death consolingly, noble Odysseus!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Rather would I in the field as daily labourer be toiling,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Slave to the meanest of men, a pauper and lacking possessions,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Than ’mid the infinite host of long-vanished mortals be ruler.”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span></p>
-<p>Yes, when Major Duvent challenged the great Israel
-Lyon to fight with pistols, and said to him, “If you do not
-meet me, Mr. Lyon, you are a dog;” the latter replied, “I
-would rather be a live dog than a dead lion!” and he was
-right. I have fought often enough, Madam, to dare to say
-this, God be praised! I live! Red life pulses in my
-veins; earth yields beneath my feet; in the glow of love I
-embrace trees and statues, and they live in my embrace.
-Every woman is to me the gift of a world. I revel in the
-melody of her countenance, and with a single glance of my eye
-I can enjoy more than others with their every limb through
-all their lives. Every instant is to me an eternity. I do
-not measure time with the ell of Brabant or of Hamburg,
-and I need no priest to promise me a second life, for I can
-live enough in this life, when I live backwards in the life of
-those who have gone before me, and win myself an eternity
-in the realm of the past.</p>
-
-<p>And I live! The great pulsation of nature beats too in my
-breast; and when I carol aloud I am answered by a thousandfold
-echo. I hear a thousand nightingales. Spring has
-sent them to awaken earth from her morning slumber, and
-earth trembles with ecstasy. Her flowers are hymns, which
-she sings in inspiration to the sun. The sun moves far too
-slowly. I would fain lash on his steeds that they might
-advance more rapidly. But when he sinks hissing in the
-sea, and the night rises with her passionate eyes, oh! then
-true pleasure first thrills through me, the evening breezes
-lie like flattering maidens on my wild heart, and the stars
-wink to me, and I rise and sweep over the little earth and
-the little thoughts of men.</p>
-
-<p>Madam, I have deceived you. I am not the Count of
-the Ganges. Never in my life have I seen the holy stream,
-nor the lotus-flowers which are mirrored in its sacred waves.
-Never did I lie dreaming under Indian palms, nor in
-prayer before the Diamond Deity Juggernaut, who with his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>
-diamonds might have easily aided me out of my difficulties.
-I have no more been in Calcutta than the turkey, of which
-I ate yesterday at dinner, had ever been in the realms of
-the Grand Turk. Yet my ancestors came from Hindustan,
-and therefore I feel so much at my ease in the great forest
-of song of Valmiki. The heroic sorrows of the divine
-Ramo move my heart like familiar griefs; from the flower
-lays of Kalidasa the sweetest memories bloom; and when
-a few years ago a gentle lady in Berlin showed me the
-beautiful pictures which her father, who had been Governor
-in India, had brought from thence, the delicately-painted,
-holy, calm faces seemed as familiar to me as though I were
-gazing at my own family gallery.</p>
-
-<p>Franz Bopp, Madam—you have of course read his <i>Nalus</i>
-and his system of Sanscrit Conjugations—gave me much
-information relative to my ancestry, and I now know with
-certainty that I am descended from Brahma’s head, and not
-from his corns. I have also good reason to believe that the
-entire Mahabarata, with its two hundred thousand verses, is
-merely an allegorical love-letter which my first fore-father
-wrote to my first fore-mother. Oh, they loved dearly; their
-souls kissed, they kissed with their eyes; they were both
-but one single kiss.</p>
-
-<p>An enchanted nightingale sits on a red coral bough in
-the silent sea, and sings a song of the love of my ancestors;
-the pearls gaze eagerly from their shells, the wonderful
-water-flowers tremble with sorrow, the cunning sea-snails,
-bearing on their backs many-coloured porcelain towers,
-come creeping onwards, the ocean roses blush with shame,
-the yellow, sharp-pointed starfish and the thousand-hued
-glassy jelly-fish quiver and stretch, and all swarm and
-listen.</p>
-
-<p>Unfortunately, Madam, this nightingale song is far too
-long to be set down here; it is as long as the world itself.
-Even its dedication to Anangas, the God of Love, is as long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>
-as all Scott’s novels; and there is a passage referring to it in
-Aristophanes, which in German reads thus—</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Tiotio, tiotio, tiotinx,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Totototo, totototo, tototinx.”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp79" id="i_081_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_081.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“SIT THE GOOD TOWNSPEOPLE OF A SUMMER EVENING.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>No, I was not born in India. I first beheld the light of
-the world on the shore of that beautiful stream on whose
-green hills folly grows and is plucked in autumn, laid away
-in cellars, poured into barrels, and exported to foreign lands.
-In fact, only yesterday I heard some one speaking a piece
-of folly, which in the year 1811 was imprisoned in a bunch
-of grapes which I myself then saw growing on the Johannisberg.
-But much folly is also consumed at home, and men
-are the same there as everywhere; they are born, eat,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>
-drink, sleep, laugh, cry, slander each other, are greatly
-troubled about the propagation of their race, try to seem
-what they are not, and to do what they cannot; never shave
-until they have a beard, and often have beards before they
-get discretion; and when they have at last discretion, they
-drink it away in white and red folly.</p>
-
-<p><i>Mon dieu!</i> If I had faith, so that I could remove mountains—the
-Johannisberg would be just the mountain which
-I would carry with me everywhere. But as my faith is not
-strong enough, imagination must aid me, and she quickly
-sets me by the beautiful Rhine.</p>
-
-<p>Oh, that is a fair land, full of loveliness and sunshine.
-In the blue stream are mirrored the mountain shores, with
-their ruined towers and woods and ancient towns. There,
-before the house-door, sit the good townspeople of a
-summer evening, and drink out of great cans, and gossip
-confidentially about how the wine—the Lord be praised!—thrives,
-and how justice should be free from all secrecy, and
-how Marie Antoinette’s being guillotined is none of our
-business, and how dear the tobacco tax makes tobacco,
-and how all mankind are equal, and what a glorious fellow
-Goerres is.</p>
-
-<p>I have never troubled myself about such conversation,
-and sat rather with the maidens in the arched window, and
-laughed at their laughter, and let them throw flowers in
-my face, and pretended to be ill-natured until they told
-me their secrets, or some other important stories. Fair
-Gertrude was half wild with delight when I sat by her.
-She was a girl like a flaming rose; and once, as she fell on
-my neck, I thought that she would burn away into perfume
-in my arms. Fair Katharine flamed into sweet music when
-she talked with me; and her eyes were of a pure, internal
-blue, which I have never seen in men or animals, and very
-seldom in flowers; one gazed so gladly into them, and
-could then think such sweet things. But the beautiful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>
-Hedwig loved me, for when I came to her she bowed her
-head till her black curls fell down over her blushing face,
-and her bright eyes shone like stars from the dark heaven.
-Her bashful lips spoke not a word, and I too could say
-nothing to her. I coughed, and she trembled. She often
-begged me through her sisters not to climb the rocks so
-rashly, and not to bathe in the Rhine when I was hot with
-running or drinking wine. Once I overheard her pious
-prayer before the Virgin Mary, which she had adorned
-with gold leaf and illuminated with a lamp, and which
-stood in a corner at the entrance. I plainly heard her pray
-to the Mother of God to keep him from climbing, drinking,
-and bathing. I should certainly have been desperately in
-love with her if she had been indifferent to me; and I was
-indifferent to her, because I knew that she loved me.
-Madam, to win my love, I must be treated <i>en canaille</i>.</p>
-
-<p>Johanna was the cousin of the three sisters, and I was
-glad to be with her. She knew the most beautiful old
-legends, and when she pointed with her white hand through
-the window out to the mountains where all had happened
-which she narrated, I became enchanted; the old knights
-rose visibly from the ruined castles, and hewed away at
-each other’s iron clothes, the Loreley sat again on the mountain
-summit, singing adown her sweet, seductive song, and
-the Rhine rippled so reasonably soothing—and yet so
-mockingly horrible—and the fair Johanna looked at me so
-strangely, with such enigmatic tenderness, that she seemed
-herself one with the legend that she told. She was a
-slender, pale girl, sickly and musing; her eyes were clear as
-truth itself; her lips piously arched; in her face lay a great
-story. Was it a love legend? I know not, and I never
-had the courage to ask. When I looked at her long I
-grew calm and cheerful; it seemed to me as though it was
-Sunday in my heart, and the angels held service there.</p>
-
-<p>In such happy hours I told her tales of my childhood,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>
-and she listened earnestly, and strangely, when I could not
-think of the names, she remembered them. When I then
-asked her with wonder how she knew the names, she would
-answer with a smile that she had learned it of the birds that
-had built a nest on the sill of her window; and she tried to
-make me believe that these were the same birds which I
-once bought with my pocket-money from a hard-hearted
-peasant-boy, and then let fly away. But I believed that she
-knew everything, because she was so pale, and really soon
-died. She knew, too, when she would die, and wished that
-I would leave Adernach the day before. When I bade her
-farewell she gave me both her hands; they were white,
-sweet hands, and pure as the frost; and she said, “You are
-very good, and when you are not, think of the little dead
-Veronica.”</p>
-
-<p>Did the chattering birds also tell her this name? Often
-in hours of remembrance I had wearied my brain in trying
-to think of that dear name, but could not.</p>
-
-<p>And now that I have it again, my earliest infancy shall
-bloom into memory again, and I am again a child, and play
-with other children in the Castle Court at Düsseldorf, on
-the Rhine.</p>
-
-<p>Yes, Madam, there was I born, and I am particular in
-calling attention to the fact, lest after my death seven cities—those
-of Schilda, Krähwinkel, Polkwitz, Bockum, Dülken,
-Göttingen, and Schöppenstadt<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>—should contend for the
-honour of being my birthplace. Düsseldorf is a town on
-the Rhine, sixteen thousand people live there, and many
-hundred thousands besides are buried there; and among
-them are many of whom my mother says it were better if
-they were still alive—for example, my grandfather and my
-uncle, the old Herr von Geldern and the young Herr von
-Geldern, who were both such celebrated doctors, and saved
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>the life of so many men, and yet must both die themselves.
-And pious Ursula, who carried me as a child in her arms,
-also lies buried there, and a rosebush grows over her grave;
-she loved rose-perfume so much in her life, and her earth
-was all rose-perfume and goodness. And the shrewd old
-Canonicus also lies there buried. Lord, how miserable he
-looked when I last saw him! He consisted of nothing but
-soul and plasters, and yet he studied night and day as
-though he feared lest the warmth might find a few ideas
-missing in his head. Little William also lies there—and
-that is my fault. We were schoolmates in the Franciscan
-cloister, and were one day playing on that side of the building
-where the Düssel flows between stone walls, and I said,
-“William, do get the kitten out, which has just fallen in!”
-and he cheerfully climbed out on the board which stretched
-over the brook, and pulled the cat out of the water, but fell
-in himself, and when they took him out he was cold and
-dead. The kitten lived to a good old age.</p>
-
-<p>The town of Düsseldorf is very beautiful, and if you think
-of it when in foreign lands, and happen at the same time to
-have been born there, strange feelings come over the soul. I
-was born there, and feel as if I must go directly home. And
-when I say home, I mean the Volkerstrasse, and the house
-where I was born. This house will be some day very remarkable,
-and I have sent word to the old lady who owns it that
-she must not for her life sell it. For the whole house she
-would now hardly get as much as the present which the
-green-veiled, distinguished English ladies will give the
-servant when she shows them the room where I was born,
-and the hen-house wherein my father generally imprisoned
-me for stealing grapes, and also the brown door on which
-my mother taught me to write with chalk. Ah me! should
-I ever become a famous author, it has cost my poor mother
-trouble enough.</p>
-
-<p>But my fame still slumbers in the marble quarries of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>
-Carrara; the waste-paper laurel with which they have
-bedecked my brow has not yet spread its perfume through
-the wide world, and when the green-veiled, distinguished
-English ladies visit Düsseldorf, they leave the celebrated
-house unvisited, and go direct to the Market Place, and
-there gaze on the colossal black equestrian statue which
-stands in its midst. This represents the Prince-Elector,
-Jan Wilhelm. He wears black armour and a long hanging
-wig. When a boy I was told that the artist who made this
-statue observed with terror while it was being cast that he
-had not metal enough, and then all the citizens of the town
-came running with all their silver spoons, and threw them
-in to fill the mould; and I often stood for hours before the
-statue puzzling my head as to how many spoons were
-sticking in it, and how many apple-tarts all that silver would
-buy. Apple-tarts were then my passion—now it is love,
-truth, freedom, and crab-soup—and not far from the statue
-of the Prince-Elector, at the theatre corner, generally stood
-a curiously constructed sabre-legged rascal, with a white
-apron and a basket girt around him full of smoking apple-tarts,
-which he knew how to praise with an irresistible
-treble voice. “Apple-tarts! quite fresh, so delicious!”
-Truly, whenever in my later years the Evil One sought to
-win me, he always cried in such an enticing treble, and I
-should certainly have never remained twelve hours by the
-Signora Guilietta if she had not thrilled me with her sweet,
-fragrant, apple-tart tones. And, in fact, the apple-tarts
-would never have so enticed me if the crooked Hermann
-had not covered them up so mysteriously with his white
-apron; and it is aprons, you know, which—but I wander
-from the subject. I was speaking of the equestrian statue
-which has so many silver spoons in its body and no soup,
-and which represents the Prince-Elector, Jan Wilhelm.</p>
-
-<p>He must have been a brave gentleman, very fond of art,
-and skilful himself. He founded the picture-gallery in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>
-Düsseldorf, and in the observatory there they show a very
-artistic piece of woodwork which he himself had carved in
-his leisure hours, of which latter he had every day four-and-twenty.</p>
-
-<p>In those days princes were not the persecuted wretches
-which they now are; the crown grew firmly on their heads,
-and at night they drew their night-caps over it and slept
-peacefully, and their people slumbered peacefully at their
-feet; and when they awoke in the morning they said,
-“Good morning, father!” and he replied, “Good morning,
-dear children!”</p>
-
-<p>But there came a sudden change over all this. One
-morning when we awoke in Düsseldorf and would say,
-“Good morning, father,” the father had travelled away, and
-in the whole town there was nothing but dumb sorrow.
-Everywhere there was a funeral-like expression, and people
-slipped silently to the market and read the long paper on
-the door of the Town Hall. It was bad weather, yet the
-lean tailor Kilian stood in his nankeen jacket, which he
-generally wore only at home, and his blue woollen stockings
-hung down so that his little bare legs peeped out in a
-troubled way, and his thin lips quivered as he murmured the
-placard. An old invalid soldier from the Palatine read it
-rather louder, and at some words a clear tear ran down his
-white, honourable old moustache. I stood near him, crying
-too, and asked why we were crying. And he replied, “The
-Prince-Elector has abdicated.” And then he read further,
-and at the words, “for the long manifested fidelity of my
-subjects,” “and hereby release you from allegiance,” he wept
-still more. It is a strange sight to see, when an old man, in
-faded uniform and scarred veteran’s face, suddenly bursts
-into tears. While we read the Prince-Electoral coat-of-arms
-was being taken down from the Town Hall, and everything
-began to appear as anxiously dreary as though we were waiting
-for an eclipse of the sun. The town councillors went<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>
-about at an abdicating, wearisome gait; even the omnipotent
-beadle looked as though he had no more commands to give,
-and stood calmly indifferent, although the crazy Aloysius
-stood upon one leg and chattered the names of French
-generals with foolish grimaces, while the tipsy, crooked
-Gumpertz rolled around in the gutter singing <i>ça ira! ça ira!</i></p>
-
-<p>But I went home crying and lamenting, “The Prince-Elector
-has abdicated.” My mother might do what she
-would, I knew what I knew, and went crying to bed, and in
-the night dreamed that the world had come to an end—the
-fair flower-gardens and green meadows of the world were
-taken up and rolled away like carpets from the floor; the
-beadle climbed up on a high ladder and took down the
-sun, and the tailor Kilian stood by and said to himself, “I
-must go home and dress myself neatly, for I am dead, and
-am to be buried this afternoon.” And it grew darker and
-darker—a few stars glimmered on high, and even these fell
-down like yellow leaves in autumn; men gradually vanished,
-and I, poor child, wandered in anguish around, until before
-the willow fence of a deserted farmhouse I saw a man
-digging up the earth with a spade, and near him an ugly,
-spiteful-looking woman, who held something in her apron
-like a human head, but it was the moon, and she laid it
-carefully in the open grave; and behind me stood the
-Palatine soldier sobbing and spelling, “The Prince-Elector
-has abdicated.”</p>
-
-<p>When I awoke, the sun shone as usual through the
-window; there was a sound of drums in the street; and as I
-entered our sitting-room and wished my father, who sat in
-his white dressing-gown, good morning, I heard the little
-light-footed barber, as he made up his hair, narrate very
-minutely that homage would that morning be offered at the
-Town Hall to the Archduke Joachim. I heard too that
-the new ruler was of excellent family, that he had married
-the sister of the Emperor Napoleon, and was really a very<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>
-respectable man; that he wore his beautiful black hair in
-curls; that he would shortly enter the town, and would
-certainly please all the ladies. Meanwhile the drumming in
-the streets continued, and I stood before the house-door
-and looked at the French troops marching—those joyous
-and famous people who swept over the world—singing and
-playing, the merry, serious faces of the Grenadiers, the
-bear-skin shakoes, the tri-coloured cockades, the glittering
-bayonets, the <i>voltigeurs</i> full of vivacity and <i>point d’honneur</i>,
-and the giant-like, silver-laced tambour major, who cast his
-<i>baton</i> with the gilded head as high as the first storey, and
-his eyes to the second, where pretty girls gazed from the
-windows. I was so glad that soldiers were to be quartered
-in our house—my mother was not glad—and I hastened to
-the Market Place. There everything looked changed; it
-was as though the world had been new whitewashed. A
-new coat-of-arms was placed on the Town Hall; its iron
-balconies were hung with embroidered velvet drapery,
-French Grenadiers stood as sentinels, the old town
-councillors had put on new faces and Sunday coats, and
-looked at each other French fashion, and said, “<i>Bon jour!</i>”
-Ladies peeped from every window, inquisitive citizens and
-soldiers filled the square, and I, with other boys, climbed
-on the shining Prince-Elector’s great bronze horse, and
-looked down on the motley crowd.</p>
-
-<p>Neighbour Peter and Long Conrad nearly broke their
-necks on this occasion, and that would have been well, for
-the one afterwards ran away from his parents, enlisted as a
-soldier, deserted, and was finally shot in Mayence; while
-the other, having made geographical researches in strange
-pockets, became a working member of a public tread-mill
-institute. But having broken the iron bands which bound
-him to his fatherland, he passed safely beyond sea, and
-eventually died in London, in consequence of wearing a
-much too long cravat, one end of which happened to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>
-firmly attached to something just as a royal official removed
-a plank from beneath his feet.</p>
-
-<p>Long Conrad told us that there was no school to-day on
-account of the homage. We had to wait a long time till
-this was over. At last the balcony of the Council House
-was filled with gay gentlemen, flags and trumpets; and our
-burgomaster, in his celebrated red coat, delivered an oration,
-which stretched out like india-rubber, or like a night-cap
-into which one has thrown a stone—only that it was not
-the stone of wisdom—and I could distinctly understand
-many of his phrases; for instance, that “We are now to be
-made happy”—and at the last words the trumpets and
-drums sounded, and the flags waved, and the people cried
-hurrah!—and as I, myself, cried hurrah! I held fast to the
-old Prince-Elector. And that was necessary, for I began to
-grow giddy; it seemed to me that the people were standing
-on their heads while the world whizzed round, and the
-Prince-Elector, with his long wig, nodded and whispered,
-“Hold fast to me!” and not till the cannon re-echoed along
-the wall did I become sobered, and climbed slowly down
-from the great bronze horse.</p>
-
-<p>As I went home I saw crazy Aloysius again dancing on
-one leg while he chattered the names of French generals,
-and crooked Gumpertz was rolling in the gutter drunk and
-growling <i>ça ira, ça ira</i>—and I said to my mother that we
-were all to be made happy, and so there was no school
-to-day.</p>
-
-<p>The next day the world was again all in order, and we
-had school as before, and things were got by heart as before—the
-Roman kings, chronology—the <i>nomina</i> in <i>im</i>, the
-<i>verba irregularia</i>—Greek, Hebrew, geography, German,
-mental arithmetic—Lord! my head is still giddy with it!—all
-must be learnt by heart. And much of it was eventually
-to my advantage. For had I not learnt the Roman
-kings by heart it would subsequently have been a matter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>
-of perfect indifference to me whether Niebuhr had or had
-not proved that they never really existed. And had I
-not learnt chronology how could I ever in later years have
-found out any one in Berlin, where one house is as like
-another as drops of water, or as grenadiers, and where it is
-impossible to find a friend unless you have the number of
-his house in your head. Therefore I associated with every
-friend some historical event which had happened in a year
-corresponding to the number of his house, so that the one
-recalled the other, and some curious point in history always
-occurred to me whenever I met an acquaintance. For
-instance, when I met my tailor I at once thought of the
-battle of Marathon; if I saw the well-dressed banker,
-Christian Gumpel, I remembered the destruction of Jerusalem;
-if a Portuguese friend, deeply in debt, of the flight of
-Mahomet; if the University Judge, a man whose probity
-is well known, of the death of Haman; and if Wadzeek, I
-was at once reminded of Cleopatra. <i>Ach, lieber Himmel!</i>
-the poor creature is dead now; our tears are dry, and we
-may say of her with Hamlet, “Take her for all in all; she
-was a hag—we oft shall look upon her like again!” As I
-said, chronology is necessary. I know men who have nothing
-in their heads but a few years, yet who knew exactly
-where to look for the right houses, and are, moreover, regular
-professors. But oh! the trouble I had at school with dates!—and
-it went even worse with arithmetic. I understood
-<i>subtraction</i> best, and for this I had a very practical rule—“Four
-from three won’t go, I must borrow one;” but I
-advise every one, in such a case, to borrow a few extra
-shillings, for one never knows.</p>
-
-<p>But as for the Latin, Madam, you can really have no idea
-how muddled it is. The Romans would never have found
-time to conquer the world if they had been obliged first to
-learn Latin. Those happy people knew in their cradles the
-nouns with an accusative in <i>im</i>. I, on the contrary, had to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>
-learn them by heart in the sweat of my brow; but still it is
-well that I knew them. For if, for example, when I publicly
-disputed in Latin, in the College Hall of Göttingen, on the
-20th of July 1825—Madam, it was well worth while to
-hear it—if, I say, I had said <i>sinapen</i> instead of <i>sinapim</i>, the
-blunder would have been evident to the Freshmen, and an
-endless shame for me. <i>Vis buris</i>, <i>sitis</i>, <i>tussis</i>, <i>cuiumis</i>,
-<i>amussis</i>, <i>cannabis</i>, <i>sinapis</i>—these words, which have attracted
-so much attention in the world, effected this, because they
-belonged to a determined class, and yet were exceptions;
-on that account I value them highly, and the fact that I
-have them ready at my finger’s ends when I perhaps need
-them in a hurry affords me in many dark hours of life much
-internal tranquillity and consolation. But, Madam, the
-<i>verba irregularia</i>—they are distinguished from the <i>verbis
-regularibus</i> by the fact that in learning them one gets more
-whippings—are terribly difficult. In the damp arches of the
-Franciscan cloister, near our schoolroom, there hung a large
-crucified Christ of grey wood, a dismal image, that even yet
-at times marches through my dreams, and gazes sorrowfully
-on me with fixed, bleeding eyes—before this image I
-often stood and prayed, “Oh, thou poor and equally tormented
-God, if it be possible for Thee, see that I get by
-heart the irregular verbs!”</p>
-
-<p>I will say nothing of Greek; I should irritate myself too
-much. The monks of the Middle Ages were not so very
-much in the wrong when they asserted that Greek was an
-invention of the devil. Lord knows what I suffered through
-it. It went better with Hebrew, for I always had a great
-predilection for the Jews, although they to this very hour
-have crucified my good name; but I never could get so far
-in Hebrew as my watch, which had an intimate intercourse
-with pawnbrokers, and in consequence acquired many Jewish
-habits—for instance, it would not go on Saturday—and
-learned the holy language, and was subsequently occupied<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>
-with its grammar, for often when sleepless in the night I
-have to my amazement heard it industriously repeating—<i>Katal,
-katalta, katalki; kittel, kittalta, kittalki; pokat,
-pokadeti; pikat, pik, pik</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp81" id="i_093_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_093.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“MY SCHOOLFELLOWS FOUGHT WITH ESPECIAL VIGOUR.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Meanwhile I learned much more German, and that is not
-such child’s-play. For we poor Germans, who have already
-been sufficiently plagued with soldiers quartered on us,
-military duties, poll-taxes, and a thousand other exactions,
-must needs over and above all this torment each other with
-accusatives and datives. I learned much German from the
-old Rector Schallmeyer, a brave clerical gentleman, whose
-<i>protégé</i> I was from childhood. Something of the matter I
-also learned from Professor Schram, a man who had written
-a book on Eternal Peace, and in whose class my schoolfellows
-fought with especial vigour.</p>
-
-<p>And while thus dashing on in a breath, and thinking of
-everything, I have unexpectedly found myself back among
-old school stories, and I avail myself of this opportunity to
-show you, Madam, that it was not my fault if I learned so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>
-little geography that later in life I could not make my way
-in the world. For in those days the French had deranged
-all boundaries; every day countries were re-coloured—those
-which were once blue suddenly became green, many even
-blood-red; the old established rules were so confused and
-confounded that no devil would recognise them. The
-products of the country also changed—chickory and beets
-now grew where only hares and hunters running after them
-were once to be seen; even the characters of different races
-changed—the Germans became pliant, the French paid
-compliments no longer, the English ceased making ducks
-and drakes of their money, and the Venetians were not
-subtle enough; there was promotion among princes, old
-kings obtained new uniforms, new kingdoms were cooked
-up and sold like hot cakes; many potentates, on the other
-hand, were chased from house and home, and had to find
-some new way of earning their bread, while others went at
-once at a trade, and manufactured, for instance, sealing-wax,
-or—Madam, this sentence must be brought to an end, or I
-shall be out of breath—in short, it is impossible in such
-times to advance far in geography.</p>
-
-<p>I succeeded better in natural history, for there we find
-fewer changes, and we always have standard engravings of
-apes, kangaroos, zebras, rhinoceroses, etc. And having
-many such pictures in my memory, it often happens that at
-first sight many mortals appear to me like old acquaintances.</p>
-
-<p>I did well in mythology; I took real delight in the mob
-of gods and goddesses who ruled the world in joyous
-nakedness. I do not believe that there was a schoolboy in
-ancient Rome who knew the chief articles of his catechism—that
-is, the loves of Venus—better than I. To tell the
-truth, it seems to me that if we must learn all the heathen
-gods by heart, we might as well have kept them from the
-first, and we have not perhaps made so much out of our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>
-new Roman Trinity, or even our Jewish monotheism.
-Perhaps that mythology was not in reality so immoral as
-we imagine, and it was, for example, a very decent thought
-of Homer’s to give the much-loved Venus a husband.</p>
-
-<p>But I succeeded best of all in the French class of the
-Abbé d’Aulnoi, a French <i>émigré</i>, who had written a number
-of grammars, and wore a red wig, and jumped about very
-nervously when he recited his <i>Art poetique</i> and his <i>Histoire
-Allemande</i>. He was the only man in the whole gymnasium
-who taught German history. Still French has its difficulties,
-and to learn it there must be much quartering of troops,
-much drumming in, much <i>apprendre par cœur</i>, and above
-all, no one should be a <i>bête allemande</i>. Thus many bitter
-words came in. I remember still, as though it happened
-yesterday, the scrapes I got into through <i>la religion</i>. Six
-times came the question: “Henri, what is the French for
-‘the faith’?” And six times, ever more tearfully, I replied:
-“It is called <i>le crédit</i>.” And at the seventh question, with
-a deep cherry-red face, my furious examiner cried, “It is
-called <i>la religion</i>,” and there was a rain of blows, and all
-my schoolfellows laughed. Madam, since that day I can
-never hear the word <i>religion</i> but my back turns pale with
-terror, and my cheeks red with shame. And to speak truly,
-<i>le crédit</i> has during my life stood me in better stead than <i>la
-religion</i>. It occurs to me at this moment that I still owe
-the landlord of the “Lion,” in Bologna, five thalers; and I
-pledge you my word of honour that I would give him five
-thalers more if I could only be certain that I should never
-again hear that unlucky word <i>la religion</i>.</p>
-
-<p><i>Parbleu</i>, Madam, I have succeeded well in French. I
-understand not only <i>patois</i>, but even aristocratic nurse-maid
-French. Not long ago, when in noble society, I understood
-full one-half of the conversation of two German Countesses,
-each of whom could count at least sixty-four years, and as
-many ancestors. Yes, in the Café Royal, at Berlin, I once<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>
-heard Monsieur Hans Michel Martens talking French, and
-understood every word, though there was no understanding
-in it. We must know the spirit of a language, and this is
-best learned by drumming. <i>Parbleu!</i> how much do I not
-owe to the French drummer who was so long quartered in
-our house, who looked like a devil, and yet had the heart of
-an angel, and who drummed so excellently?</p>
-
-<p>He was a little nervous figure, with a terrible black
-moustache, beneath which the red lips turned suddenly
-outwards, while his fiery eyes glanced around.</p>
-
-<p>I, a youngster, stuck to him like a cur, and helped him to
-rub his military buttons like mirrors, and to pipe-clay his
-vest, for Monsieur Le Grand liked to look well; and I
-followed him to the watch, to the roll-call, to the parade.
-In those times there was nothing but the gleam of weapons
-and merriment—<i>les jours de fête sont passés!</i> Monsieur Le
-Grand knew only a little broken German, only the chief
-expressions—“Bread,” “kiss,” “honour,” but he could
-make himself very intelligible with his drum. For instance,
-if I did not know what the word <i>liberté</i> meant, he drummed
-the <i>Marseillaise</i>, and I understood him. If I did not
-understand the word <i>egalité</i>, he drummed the march,
-“<i>Ça ira ... les aristocrats a la lanterne!</i>” and I understood
-him. If I did not know what <i>bêtise</i> meant, he
-drummed the Dessauer March, which we Germans, as
-Goethe also declares, have drummed in champagne—and
-I understood him. He once wanted to explain to me
-the word <i>l’Allemagne</i>, and he drummed the all too simple
-primeval melody, which on market days is played to dancing
-dogs—namely, <i>Dum-dum-dum</i>. I was vexed, but I understood
-him.</p>
-
-<p>In the same way he taught me modern history. I did
-not understand the words, it is true; but as he constantly
-drummed while speaking, I knew what he meant. At
-bottom this is the best method. The history of the storming<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>
-of the Bastille, of the Tuilleries, and the like, we understand
-first when we know how the drumming was done.
-In our school compendiums of history we merely read:
-“Their excellencies the Baron and Count, with the most
-noble spouses of the aforesaid, were beheaded. Their
-highnesses the Dukes and Princes, with the most noble
-spouses of the aforesaid, were beheaded. His Majesty
-the King, with his most sublime spouse, the Queen, was
-beheaded.” But when you hear the red guillotine march
-drummed, you understand it correctly for the first time,
-and you know the how and the why. Madam, that is
-indeed a wonderful march! It thrilled through marrow
-and bone when I first heard it, and I was glad that I
-forgot it. One forgets so much as one grows older, and
-a young man has nowadays so much other knowledge
-to keep in his head—whist, Boston, genealogical tables,
-parliamentary data, dramaturgy, the liturgy, carving—and
-yet notwithstanding all jogging up of my brain, I could
-not for a long time recall that tremendous tune! But only
-think, Madam, not long ago I sat at table with a whole
-menagerie of counts, princes, princesses, chamberlains,
-court marshalesses, seneschals, upper court mistresses, court
-keepers of the royal plate, court hunters’ wives, and whatever
-else these aristocratic domestics are termed, and their
-under domestics ran about behind their chairs and shoved
-full plates before their mouths; but I, who was passed by
-and neglected, sat without the least occupation for my
-jaws, and I kneaded little bread-balls, and drummed for
-<i>ennui</i> with my fingers, and to my astonishment I suddenly
-drummed the red, long-forgotten guillotine march!</p>
-
-<p>“And what happened?” Madam, the good people
-were not disturbed in their eating, nor did they know that
-other people, when they have nothing to eat, suddenly
-begin to drum, and that, too, very queer marches, which
-people thought long forgotten.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span></p>
-
-<p>Is drumming, now, an inborn talent, or was it early
-developed in me? Enough—it lies in my limbs, in my
-hands, in my feet, and often manifests itself involuntarily.
-I once sat at Berlin in the lecture-room of the Privy
-Councillor Schmaltz, a man who had saved the State by his
-book on the <i>Red and Black Coat Danger</i>. You remember,
-perhaps, Madam, out of Pausanias, that by the braying of
-an ass an equally dangerous plot was once discovered; and
-you also know from Livy, or from Becker’s <i>History of the
-World</i>, that geese once saved the capital; and you must
-certainly know from Sallust that a loquacious <i>putain</i>, the
-Lady Livia, brought the terrible conspiracy of Cataline to
-light. But to return to the mutton aforesaid. I listened
-to international law in the lecture-room of the Herr Privy
-Councillor Schmaltz, and it was a sleepy summer afternoon,
-and I sat on the bench and heard less and less—my head
-had gone to sleep, when all at once I was wakened by the
-noise of my own feet, which had stayed awake, and had
-probably observed that the exact opposite of international
-law and constitutional tendencies was being preached; and
-my feet, which, with the little eyes of their corns, had seen
-more of how things go in the world than the Privy Councillor
-with his Juno eyes—these poor dumb feet, incapable
-of expressing their immeasurable meaning by words, strove
-to make themselves intelligible by drumming, and they
-drummed so loudly that I thereby nearly came to grief.</p>
-
-<p>Cursed, unreflecting feet! They once played me a
-similar trick, when I on a time, in Göttingen, sponged
-without subscribing on the lectures of Professor Saalfeld;
-and as, with an angular activity, he jumped about here and
-there in his pulpit, and heated himself in order to curse the
-Emperor Napoleon in regular set style,—no, my poor feet,
-I cannot blame you for drumming then; indeed, I would
-not have blamed you if in your dumb <i>naïveté</i> you had
-expressed yourselves by still more energetic movements.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>
-How could I, the scholar of Le Grand, hear the Emperor
-cursed? The Emperor, the Emperor, the great Emperor!</p>
-
-<p>The Emperor is dead. On a waste island in the Atlantic
-Ocean is his grave; and he for whom the world was too
-narrow lies quietly under a little hillock, where five weeping
-willows hang their green heads, and a little brook, murmuring
-sorrowfully, ripples by. There is no inscription on his
-tomb; but Clio, with a just pen, has written thereon
-invisible words, which will resound, like spirit tones, through
-thousands of years.</p>
-
-<p>Britannia! the sea is thine. But the sea has not water
-enough to wash away the shame with which the death of
-that mighty one has covered thee. Not thy windy Sir
-Hudson—no, thou thyself wert the Sicilian bravo with
-whom perjured kings bargained that they might revenge on
-the man of the people what he had once inflicted on one of
-themselves. And he was thy guest, and had seated himself
-by thy hearth.</p>
-
-<p>Strange! A terrible destiny has already overtaken the
-three greatest enemies of the Emperor. Londonderry has
-cut his throat, Louis XVIII. has rotted away on his throne,
-and Professor Saalfeld is still professor in Göttingen.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Heinrich Heine.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="VERSES_FROM_HEINE"><i>VERSES FROM HEINE.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T makes a man happy, no doubt,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But it maketh him weary, i’fegs,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">To have three lovely women about him,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And only a couple of legs.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">With one I must walk of a morning;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">At eve with another I rove;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And a third comes at noontide, and drags me</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Right out of my quarters, by Jove!</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Farewell, irresistible sirens!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I have but two legs of my own;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Henceforth in some rural seclusion</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I’ll worship Dame Nature—alone.</div>
-  </div>
- <div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0 p2">&#160;</div></div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">These</span> fine ladies, understanding</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Honour must to poets be,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Bade me to a lordly luncheon—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">My great Genius and me.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">There was soup, ah! it was stunning;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">There was wine no lip would spurn;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">There was poultry, simply godlike,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">There was hare cooked to a turn.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">They talked I remember of poets,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And when I could eat no more,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I rose, and acknowledged the honour,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And bowed till I reached the door.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0 p2">
-
-&#160;</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Frankly</span>, this young man I honour,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">He exhibits graces rare.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Often he has stood me oysters,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Also Rhine-wine and liqueurs.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">And his clothes exactly fit him,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And his tie proclaims the swell;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And he turns up every morning,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And he hopes I’m pretty well,</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Talks about my reputation,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And my wit, and grace of style;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And he’d do, if I would let him,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Oh, a thousand things the while!</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">And at nights, in rooms surrounded</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">By the fairest of the fair,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">He declaims my ‘Heavenly’ poems</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">With a soft abstracted air.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Truly, is not this refreshing?</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Such young men as him I praise</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Are not common; they are growing</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Rare and rarer nowadays.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0 p2">&#160;</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">A young</span> man loves a maiden</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Who other hopes has fed,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And her love loves another love,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And to his choice is wed.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">The maiden marries straightway</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The handiest man to be had,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And this is simple cussedness,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And her young man is mad.</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span></p>  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">It is an ancient drama,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But any time ’twill fit—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Don’t play “first gentleman” unless</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">You want your heart to split.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0 p2">
-
-&#160;</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Laid</span> on thy snow-white shoulder</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">My head is at rest;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And I listen—and know the unquiet</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Desire of thy breast.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">The gorgeous hussars have stormed it,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And entered without strife!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And, to-morrow, a woman will leave me</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">That I love as my life.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">What tho’ in the morning she leave me,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">To-night she is mine—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">My head is at rest on her shoulder,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And her snow-white arms entwine.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Translated by Ernest Radford.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp72" id="i_103_2" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_103.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“BUT THOU WENT’ST ON WITH EVEN-STEPPING FEET.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Thou</span> wert a blonde-hair’d maid without a stain,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">So neat, so prim, so cool! I stay’d in vain</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">To see thy bosom’s guarded gates unroll,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And Inspiration breathe upon thy soul.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">A zeal and ardour for those lofty themes,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">By chilly Reason scorn’d for airy dreams,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But wringing from the noble and the good</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The toil of hand and heart, and brain and blood.</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span></p>  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">On hills with vineyards’ clambering leafage gay,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Glass’d in the Rhine we roamed one summer day;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Bright was the sun, and from the shining cup</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Of every flower a giddy scent flew up.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">A kiss of fire, a deep voluptuous blush,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Burn’d on each pink and every rosy bush,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Ideal flames in dandelions glow’d</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And lit each sorriest weed that edged our road.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">But thou went’st on with even-stepping feet,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Clad in white satin, elegant and neat;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">No child of Netcher’s brush more trim and nice,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And in thy stays a little heart of ice.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Translated by Richard Garnett.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="ABOUT_MONEY"><i>ABOUT MONEY.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE world is divided into two kinds of human beings—those
-that have money and those that have none.
-But the latter are not human beings at all—they are either
-devils, viz., poor devils; or angels, viz., angels of patience
-and renunciation.</p>
-
-<p>Without money, without teeth, and without a wife we
-come into this world; and without money, without teeth,
-and without a wife we go out of this world. What then
-have we accomplished in the world? We have made
-money, cut teeth, and taken unto ourselves wives! A
-glorious destiny! There are fevers, pains, convulsions,
-and sufferings of all kinds attendant upon the getting of
-teeth and wives, and when one has them they hurt the
-whole year round, and often the best one can do is
-to have them extracted. Teeth and wives come to you
-without your doing, and unless most carefully treated they
-are liable to decay. But money does not come without
-your doing, and often a man leaves this world without
-having had money. It would be interesting to hear the
-reply of such a person when asked on the other side,
-“What did you do in the world?”</p>
-
-<p>Who has money? The rich people! That is a
-misfortune! If the poor people only had money then
-we should see what poor devils these rich fellows are!
-It is no art to be rich when one has much money, and
-it is no merit to be poor when one has none.</p>
-
-<p>What is money? Money is a goodly lump which the
-Lord God attaches to insignificant people, so as not to
-lose sight of them in his creation, as a good housekeeper
-puts a big label on a little key.</p>
-
-<p>What is money? Money is a figure which gains in
-importance as there is a cipher attached to it.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span></p>
-
-<p>What is money? Money is a metal heel under the
-boots of little people to make them appear as tall as
-others.</p>
-
-<p>What is money? Money is an indemnity which God
-gives to a certain number of persons on condition that
-they will not make bold to acquire any such goods as
-Intellect or Genius.</p>
-
-<p>What is money? Money is the <i>accent grave</i> upon a
-letter which would else be silent.</p>
-
-<p>What is money? Money is the mysterious essence of
-a being which defines its <i>ego</i> in the following words:—“If
-I were not what I have, I should not have what I am.”</p>
-
-<p>But what is no money? No money? No money?</p>
-
-<p>No money is a thing of which all empty pockets are full.</p>
-
-<p>No money is the <i>alibi</i> of a being which should testify to
-our presence in this world.</p>
-
-<p>No money is a disease aggravated by the continuous
-obstruction of Fortune.</p>
-
-<p>No money is a gentle invitation of nature to incur debts,
-and a peremptory command not to pay them.</p>
-
-<p>No money is an irresistible inclination to melancholy
-on the part of our purse caused by hopeless love to
-an unattainable object.</p>
-
-<p>No money is an <i>ex</i>position of no money at all, a <i>pro</i>position
-in abstract philosophy, a fit position for a minister of
-finance, and a happy <i>dis</i>position for platonic love.</p>
-
-<p>No money is a vulgar ballad which common people sing
-aloud on the streets, but the more refined only hum between
-their lips within doors.</p>
-
-<p>No money is the watchword of extreme radicalism and
-the art of making oneself popular at a low price.</p>
-
-<p>Alas, what is man without money? A twice-told
-anecdote, a song without a tune, a lost poodle-dog
-without an honest finder, last year’s calendar, etc., etc.</p>
-
-<p>Without money no prince can reign, no minister can<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>
-minister, no general can make war, no painter can paint,
-no farmer can till the field; only the bards and poets sing
-and make verses without money; the poet is true to his
-muse even though he has no money; indeed he muses
-more than ever—how to get some.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>M. G. Saphir</i> (1795-1858).
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_NIGHT_IN_THE_BREMER_RATHSKELLER"><i>A NIGHT IN THE BREMER RATHSKELLER.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T struck ten o’clock as I descended the broad steps of
-the Rathskeller. There was a reasonable hope of
-finding it empty, for a storm was howling without, the
-weather-cocks were making strange music, and the rain
-splashed upon the pavement. But the kellerdiener gave
-me a questioning look when I told him my desire.</p>
-
-<p>“What, so late, and to-night of all nights?” he exclaimed.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s never too late for me before twelve,” I answered;
-“and after that it is early enough in the day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Are you expecting company?” asked the man.</p>
-
-<p>“I am alone.”</p>
-
-<p>“You might have some unasked,” he added, looking
-about timorously at the shadows his lamp cast.</p>
-
-<p>“What do you mean?” I asked in surprise.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I was only thinking,” answered he, lighting a couple
-of candles and setting a large beaker before me. “There
-are all sorts of odd rumours about the 1st of September.
-Indeed I can’t do it, sir! Not to-day, sir!”</p>
-
-<p>I took this to be one of those common tricks wherewith
-custodians, wardens, and the like work upon a stranger’s
-purse, so I placed a generous coin in his hand, and took
-him by the arm to make him come with me.</p>
-
-<p>“No, that was not my intention, sir,” he said, trying to
-give it back to me. “I’ll tell you frankly what my meaning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>
-was—there’s nothing in the world would induce me to enter
-the Apostles’ cellar this night, for it’s the 1st of September.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, and what of that?”</p>
-
-<p>“In God’s name, then, you may think what you please,
-but it isn’t as it should be there to-night, and that’s because
-it is the anniversary day of the <i>Rose</i>.”<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p>
-
-<p>I laughed till the walls rang again. “Well, I have heard
-many a ghost-story in my life, but never one about a wine-ghost.
-Aren’t you ashamed to talk such nonsense, you with
-your white hair? But I have the permission of the Senate;
-I may drink in this cellar to-night, wherever I please, and as
-long as I please. Therefore, in the name of the Senate, I
-bid you follow me. Unlock the cellar of Bacchus.”</p>
-
-<p>This had the desired effect; unwillingly, but not venturing
-to remonstrate, he took the candles and beckoned to me.
-First we traversed one roomy vault, then a smaller one,
-until we reached a long narrow passage. Our steps reverberated
-with a hollow sound, and our breath striking against
-the wall produced what seemed like distant whispering. At
-last we stood before a door, the keys rattled, with a moan it
-came yawning open, the light of the candles fell into the
-cellar, and opposite to me sat Friend Bacchus upon a mighty
-cask. Refreshing sight! They had not pictured him with
-delicate grace, those old Bremen artists, not daintily as a
-Grecian youth; they had not represented him old and
-drunk, with a disgusting belly, leering eyes, and protruding
-tongue, as the vulgarised myth profanely portrays him now
-and then. Outrageous anthropomorphism; blind folly of
-man! Because some of his priests, grown old in his
-worship, walk about thus; because their belly swells with
-satisfaction, their nose takes colour from the burning
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>reflection of the dark-red flood, their eyes turn up in
-silent bliss—these things must needs be attributed to the
-god, while they but adorn his worshippers.</p>
-
-<p>Otherwise did the men of Bremen. How blithely and
-cheerily does the old boy ride his cask! The round blooming
-face, the merry little wine-enraptured eyes looking down
-so knowingly, the broad smiling mouth that has tasted of
-many a bumper, the short powerful neck, the whole little
-figure teeming with health and good humour! Is one not
-tempted to expect that in a gay mood, wine-inspired, he will
-bend his little round knees, press his calves up close, and
-stem his heels against the old mother-cask, setting her
-off at a brisk canter, in which all the Roses, Apostles, and
-common casks will join with a wild “halloo” through the
-cellar?</p>
-
-<p>“Lord of Heaven!” cried the custodian, clinging tightly
-to my arm; “don’t you see him roll his eyes and swing his
-legs?”</p>
-
-<p>“Old fellow, you are crazy!” said I, casting a timid look
-at the wooden god; “it is the light of the candles flickering
-about him.” At the same time a queer feeling came over
-me as I followed the old man out of the Bacchus-cellar. Was
-it really the light of the candles, was it an illusion what I
-saw? Did he not nod to me with his little round pate, did
-he not put out one of his chubby legs and shake and writhe
-with secret laughter? I ran after the old man and walked
-close behind him.</p>
-
-<p>“Now to the twelve Apostles,” I said to him. He did
-not reply; shaking his head dubiously he walked on. There
-were two or three steps to ascend from the large cellar into
-a small one, into the subterranean heavens, the seat of the
-blessed, where abide the twelve Apostles. What are ye,
-vaults and sepulchres of royal families, beside these catacombs!
-Place coffin by coffin, laud upon black marble the
-merits of the man who sleeps below, employ a garrulous<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>
-keeper in garments of mourning, let him praise the unspeakable
-greatness of this dust or of that, let him relate the marvellous
-virtues of a prince who fell at such and such a battle,
-the exquisite beauty of a princess upon whose sarcophagus
-the virgin’s myrtle twines with the bursting rosebud—it will
-remind you of mortality, it may cost you a tear; but can it
-touch you like this bed-chamber of a century, this resting-place
-of a glorious race? There they lie in their dark-brown
-coffins devoid of ornament and frippery. No marble
-boasts of their silent merits, their inconspicuous virtue, their
-excellent character; but what man with a heart for virtue of
-this sort does not feel himself stirred when the old custodian,
-this keeper of the catacombs, this sexton of the subterranean
-church, places his candles upon the coffins and lets the light
-fall upon the illustrious names of the great dead! Like
-royal heads, these too have no long title and surname; in
-noble simplicity their names appear upon the brown coffins.
-There is Andrew, here John, in yonder corner Judas, in
-this Peter. Who is not touched when he is then told that
-there lies the noble one of Nierenstein, born 1718; here he
-of Rüdesheim, born 1726. To the right Paul, to the left
-James, the good James!</p>
-
-<p>“Good-night, ye old lords of the Rhine; good-night.
-And if there is anything I can do for you, fiery Judas, or
-you, gentle Andrew, or you, dear John, come, come to me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Lord of Heaven!” the old man interrupted me, slamming
-the door and turning the key. “Are you intoxicated
-already by the few drops you had, that you should thus
-tempt the devil? Don’t you know that the wine-spirits
-arise this night, and visit each other, as they always do on
-the 1st of September? And should I lose my place thereby,
-I shall run off and leave you if you speak such words again.
-It is not yet twelve o’clock, but at any moment one of them
-might come creeping out of his cask and frighten us to
-death with a hideous grimace.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Stop your foolish prattle, old fellow, and be comforted.
-I will not say another word to wake your wine-spirits. But
-now take me to the Rose.”</p>
-
-<p>We walked on; we entered a vault, the rose-garden of
-Bremen. There she lay, old Rose, bulky, tremendous, with
-an air of commanding sovereignty. What an enormous
-cask! and every bumper worth its weight in gold! 1615!
-Where are the hands that planted thee? Where are the
-eyes that revelled in thy bloom. Where are the happy folks
-that exulted when thou, noble grape, wert cut upon the
-heights of the Rhinelands, when thou wert pulled and thy
-golden flood burst into the tub? They are gone, like the
-waves of the river that bathed the foot of thy vineyard.</p>
-
-<p>“There, and now good-night, Frau Rose!” said the old
-servant pleasantly. “Now, good-night, and God bless you;
-here, this way, sir, not around that corner; this is the way
-out of the cellar. Here, come, do not run against those
-casks; I will hold the candle.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, indeed, old chap,” I said; “the joke is only just
-beginning. All this was but a foretaste. Bring me two or
-three bottles of your choicest of ’22 in the large room
-yonder.”</p>
-
-<p>He stood there with eyes wide open, the poor fool.
-“Sir,” he said solemnly, “put it out of your mind. I will
-not stay with you for love or money.”</p>
-
-<p>“Who told you to stay with me? Put the wine where I
-tell you, and, in God’s name, go along with you.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I cannot leave you alone in the cellar,” he replied.
-“I know, begging your pardon, that you wouldn’t steal anything,
-but it is against my orders.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, lock the door behind me; put a padlock
-on, as ponderous as you please, and to-morrow morning at
-six come and wake me and get your fee.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp51" id="i_112" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_112.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“TWO MEN WITH CEREMONIOUS POLITENESS URGING PRECEDENCE UPON
-EACH OTHER.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>He tried to remonstrate, but it was in vain. At last he
-put down three bottles and nine candles before me, wiped
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>out the beaker, and bade me good-night with a heavy heart
-as it seemed. He locked the door, and out of tender
-solicitude for me, as it would seem, more than for the
-safety of his cellar, hung on a padlock. Just then the
-clock struck twelve. I heard him mutter a prayer and
-hasten away. The sound of his steps died away in the
-vault, and when he shut the outside door of the cellar it
-reverberated like a peal of thunder through the passages.</p>
-
-<p>So I am alone with thee, my soul, far down in the womb
-of the earth. Up on the earth they are all asleep and
-adream, and down here, round about, they slumber in
-their coffins, the spirits of wine. Do they dream, I wonder,
-of their short childhood, of the distant hills where they
-were bred, and of their old father Rhine who murmured
-a gentle ditty by their cradle?</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>Hark! Was not that the sound of a door? Certainly
-very queer; if I were not alone down here, if I did not
-know that men can only walk the earth above, I should be
-tempted to think that there are steps resounding through
-the vaults. Ha! here they come, there is something
-fumbling at the door; it shakes the latch, but the door
-is locked and bolted; this night no <i>mortal</i> will disturb
-me. Ha! What is that? The door opens. Holy
-horrors!</p>
-
-<p>Outside the door stood two men with ceremonious
-politeness urging the precedence upon each other. The
-one was tall and lean, adorned with a great black wig,
-a dark-red coat, trimmed with gilt cording and gilt-spun
-buttons; his legs, of abnormal length and thinness, were
-attired in knee-breeches of black velvet with gold buckles.
-His sword, with a heft of porcelain, he had stuck through
-his trousers-pocket; when bowing he waved a little three-cornered
-silk hat, while the flowing locks of his wig brushed
-his shoulders. The man had a pale, sorrowful face, deep-set<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>
-eyes, and a large nose of fiery red. Quite different
-was the smaller fellow, who had been specially obsequious
-in urging the other to pass him at the door. His hair was
-pasted to his head with the white of an egg, and on either
-side it was fastened securely in two rolls like the holsters
-of a pistol; a long pig-tail hung down his back; he wore
-a little coat of grey faced with red; his lower parts were
-adorned with large jack-boots, his upper with a richly-embroidered
-vest of state, which fell over his well-rounded
-little belly down to his knees; and he was buckled about
-with an enormous sword. There was an expression of
-exceeding good-nature in his fleshy face, especially in
-his little eyes that stood out like those of a lobster. His
-gestures were carried out with an enormous felt hat turned
-up boldly on either side.</p>
-
-<p>They hung their hats upon the wall, unbuckled their
-swords, and sat down silently by the table without looking
-at me. I was about to take heart and address them, when
-there was a new sound outside. Steps approached, the
-door was opened, and four other gentlemen, attired in the
-same old fashion, entered.</p>
-
-<p>“God greet ye, Lords of the Rhine!” said the tall one
-of the red coat in a deep bass voice, getting up and bowing.
-“God greet ye,” squeaked the little one; “it’s a long time
-since last we saw you, James!”</p>
-
-<p>“Hallo and good morning, Matthew,” replied one of
-the new-comers; “and good morning to you too, Judas!
-But what is this? Where are our bumpers, our pipes and
-tobacco? Has the old knave not yet waked out of his
-sinner’s sleep?”</p>
-
-<p>“The lazy-bones!” cried the little one. “The heavy-eyed
-rascal! He is still lying over yonder in the graveyard;
-but, thunder and lightning, I’ll wake him up!” With that
-he seized a large bell that was standing upon the table,
-ringing it and laughing in a shrill, cutting voice.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span></p>
-
-<p>As is the case with genuine old drinkers, so among these
-guests the conversation would not flow without wine. Just
-then a new personage appeared at the door. It was a little
-old man, with shaking legs and grey hair; his head looked
-like a skull over which a thin hide has been drawn, and his
-eyes shone dimly out of deep hollows; he was tugging at a
-large basket, and greeted the guests humbly.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, here’s our old kellermeister, Balthasar,” called out
-the guests; “come on, old fellow, put down the beakers and
-bring our pipes! Why did you tarry so long? It struck
-twelve long ago.”</p>
-
-<p>The old man gaped once or twice rather indecently, and
-on the whole looked like a person who has overslept.
-“Came near sleeping through the 1st of September,” he
-grunted; “ever since they have paved the churchyard, I don’t
-hear as well as I did. Where are the other gentlemen?”
-he proceeded, taking beakers of strange shape and marvellous
-size out of the basket, and putting them on the table.</p>
-
-<p>“Where are the others? You are only six, and old Rose
-hasn’t come yet.”</p>
-
-<p>“Put the bottles down first,” exclaimed Judas, “that we
-may get a drop of something to drink, and then go over
-yonder—they are still asleep in their casks; tap them with
-your dry bones and tell them to get up.”</p>
-
-<p>But hardly had Judas ended, when there was a rush
-and boisterous laughter at the door. “Spinster Rose, her
-health, hurrah, and her sweetheart Bacchus!” The door
-flew open, the ghostly fellows at the table jumped up and
-cried: “It is she, it is she, Spinster Rose and Bacchus and
-the others! Hurrah! Now we’re in for a jolly good time!”
-and with that they touched beakers with a ringing sound
-and laughed, and the fat one struck his belly, and the pale
-kellermeister threw his cap skilfully between his legs and
-up to the ceiling, and joined in with the shouts of the
-others till my ears rang again. What a sight! The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>
-wooden Bacchus, that I had but just seen astride the cask
-in the cellar, had got down, naked as he was; with his
-broad, smiling face, with his twinkling eyes, he greeted the
-group and came walking skittishly into the room; by his
-hand he led with much ceremony as his betrothed an elderly
-dame of great height and of goodly roundness. I do not know
-to this day how it was possible, but then and there it was
-clear as daylight to me that this dame was no other than
-old Rose, the enormous cask in the Rose-cellar.</p>
-
-<p>And how gorgeously had she got herself up, the old
-lady from the Rhine! In her youth she must have been a
-comely lass, for even now, although the fresh colours of
-girlhood had left her cheeks, although time had painted
-some little wrinkles about her brow and her mouth, two
-centuries could not efface the noble features of her fine
-face. Her eyebrows had turned grey, and a couple of unseemly
-grey hairs had sprouted upon her pointed chin, but
-the hair brushed smoothly over her forehead was brown as
-nuts, and only intermingled here and there with a little
-silvery grey. Upon her head she wore a black velvet cap,
-fitting closely above her ears; then she had on a jerkin
-of finest black cloth, and the bodice of red velvet showing
-beneath was fastened with silver hooks and chains. About
-her throat she wore a broad necklace of glittering garnets,
-fastened to which was a gold medal; an ample skirt of
-brown cloth fell about her portly figure, and a little white
-apron trimmed with white lace added a coquettish touch.
-On one side there was a large pocket of leather, on the other
-a bunch of tremendous keys—in short, she was as respectable-looking
-a dame as ever walked across the street of
-Cologne or Mayence in 1618.</p>
-
-<p>And behind Dame Rose came six shouting fellows, swinging
-their three-cornered hats, with their wigs on awry, attired
-in broad-tailed coats and long embroidered vests.</p>
-
-<p>With ceremonious courtesy did Bacchus lead his lady to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>
-the head of the table, accompanied by the jubilations of his
-companions. She bowed with becoming gravity, and sat
-down. At her side the wooden Bacchus took a seat, after
-Balthasar, the kellermeister, had put a big cushion under
-him, for he had else seemed pitifully small and low. The
-others also sat down, and then I saw that they were the
-twelve Apostles from the Rhine, who at other times lie
-sleeping in the Apostles’ cellar in Bremen.</p>
-
-<p>“So here we are, altogether once more, we young people
-of 1700,” said Peter, after the tumult had somewhat subsided.
-“Your health, Dame Rose! You don’t look a day
-older; you’re as comely and stately as you were fifty years
-ago. Your health, and your sweetheart’s, Bacchus.”</p>
-
-<p>“My humble thanks to you, esteemed Apostle,” answered
-Dame Rose, bowing her appreciation. “Are you as much
-of a tease as ever? I don’t know of no sweetheart, and you
-mustn’t say such things to put out a modest lass!” She cast
-down her eyes as she said it, and emptied a tremendous bumper.</p>
-
-<p>“Love,” said Bacchus, looking tenderly out of his little
-eyes, and taking her hand; “Love, don’t put on airs. You
-know that my heart has inclined to you for two thousand
-autumns, and that I
-love you to-day before
-all others; a
-fiery kiss upon thy
-rosy lips shall prove
-it.”</p>
-
-<div class="figright illowp92" id="i_117" style="max-width: 25em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_117.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“HE TOOK HIS TRIBUTE WITH INTEREST.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>He leaned tenderly
-towards her. “If
-only all the young
-folks were not about,”
-she whispered shamefacedly.
-But under
-the shouts and laughter of the twelve the wine-god took his
-tribute with interest.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span></p>
-
-<p>“You are a rogue,” he cried, laughing.</p>
-
-<p>“You are a Turk, and make love to many at the same
-time. Do you suppose I don’t know how you pay court
-to the frivolous Frenchwoman, the Lady of Bordeaux, and
-to the chalky pale-face of Champagne? Go away; you
-have a bad character, and are not made for faithful German
-love.”</p>
-
-<p>“The devil, you carry your jealousy too far,” he cried
-snappishly. “I can’t break off all of my old connections.”</p>
-
-<p>“What is this I see?” said Dame Rose. “You are
-thirteen at table. Who is that over there in strange
-garments? Who brought him here?”</p>
-
-<p>Heavens, how I started! They all looked at me with
-surprise, and did not seem at all pleased at my intrusion.
-But I took heart, and said: “Your humble servant, gentlemen.
-I am nothing further than a mortal, graduated to a
-Doctor of Philosophy.”</p>
-
-<p>“But how dare you come here at this hour, mortal?”
-said Peter very solemnly, shooting lightnings out of his eyes
-at me.</p>
-
-<p>“Your Excellency,” I replied, “there is good reason for
-that. I am an enamoured friend of noble drink, and by the
-kindness of your right worthy Senate I have received permission
-to pay my respects to the twelve Apostles and to
-Dame Rose.”</p>
-
-<p>“And so you like to drink Rhine-wine?” said Bacchus.
-“Well, that is one good quality, and is the more to be
-praised at a time when mortals have grown more or less
-cold toward this golden fountain. I believe the race feels
-that it is no longer worthy of a noble drop, so they brew
-some slip-slop stuff of syrup and whisky, call it Chateau-Margaux,
-Sillery, St. Julien, and all sorts of pompous names,
-and when they drink it they get red rings about their mouth
-because the stuff is coloured, and headache the next day
-because they have had vile gin.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Ah, it was a different life we led,” continued John,
-“when our blood was young in the years ’19 and ’26. Nay,
-as late as ’50 there were high times within these noble
-vaults. Every evening, no matter whether the sun would
-shine in spring or whether it would rain and snow in winter,
-every evening these apartments were filled with happy
-guests. Here, where we are sitting now, sat in state and
-dignity the Senate of Bremen, splendid wigs upon their
-heads, weapons at their side, courage in their heart, and a
-bumper before each.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, yes, children,” said old Rose; “it used to be quite
-different from now say fifty, or one hundred, or two hundred
-years ago. Then they brought their wives and daughters
-with them to the cellar, and the handsome Bremen lasses
-drank Rhine-wine, or of our neighbours’ from the Moselle,
-and were noted far and near for their blooming cheeks, their
-crimson lips, and for their lovely, sparkling eyes; now they
-drink miserable stuff, tea and the like, which grows far away
-where the Chinamen live, I am told, and which in my day
-women drank when they had a little cough or other trouble.
-Rhine-wine, genuine honest Rhine-wine, doesn’t agree with
-them nowadays; for the land’s sake you wouldn’t believe it!
-They put sweet Spanish wine with it to make it taste better;
-they say it’s too sour.”</p>
-
-<p>The Apostles burst into a perfect roar of laughter, which I
-joined involuntarily, and Bacchus laughed so horribly that
-old Balthasar had to hold him.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, the good old times!” cried fat Bartholomew.
-“Our burghers used to drink two measures, and it seemed
-as if they had drunk water, so sober were they; but now
-one goblet throws them down. They are out of practice.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">There was a terrible bang that made the vault ring again,
-the door flew open, and upon the threshold stood a tall
-white figure. With measured, ringing steps, a ponderous<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>
-sword within his hand, in armour but without a helmet, did
-this gigantic individual strut into the room. He was of
-stone, his face was set and without expression. Nevertheless,
-his stony lips parted and he said—</p>
-
-<p>“God greet ye, beloved vines from the Rhine. I needs
-must come and visit my fair neighbour on her anniversary-day.
-God greet you, Dame Rose. May I sit down to your
-carousal?”</p>
-
-<p>They all turned in surprise upon the giant statue. Spinster
-Rose broke the silence, clapped her hands together with joy,
-and exclaimed—</p>
-
-<p>“Goodness me! It’s stony Roland, who has stood for
-many centuries upon the market-place of our dear Bremen
-town. Oh, it is kind of you to do me the honour, sir
-knight; lay down your shield and sword and make yourself
-comfortable; won’t you sit here by my side? Gracious me,
-how pleased I am!”</p>
-
-<p>The Apostles had moved up closer and made room for
-their guest on a chair by the ancient maiden. He laid his
-shield and sword in a corner and sat down rather awkwardly
-upon the little chair; but alas! this had been made for
-respectable mortals but not for a stony giant; with a crash
-it broke under him, and he lay full length upon the floor.</p>
-
-<p>“Base generation, which fabricates such stools upon
-which in my day no delicate maiden could have sat without
-breaking through the seat!” grumbled the hero, slowly
-getting up. The kellermeister rolled a cask up to the table,
-and invited the knight to be seated. A couple of staves
-cracked as he sat down, but the cask stood the test.</p>
-
-<p>“How tastes the wine to you?” Bacchus asked the
-new-comer. “It must be long since last you drank any.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is good, by my sword! Very good! What growth
-is it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Red Ingelheimer, august sir!” answered the kellermeister.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span></p>
-
-<p>The stony eye of the knight took life and fire when
-he heard this; his chiselled features were softened by a
-smile, and contentedly he looked into his cup.</p>
-
-<p>“Ingelheim! Thou sweet, familiar name!” he said.
-“Thou noble castle of my knightly emperor; so thy name
-has outlasted the centuries, and the vines that Charlemagne
-planted in his Ingelheim still blossom? Does this new
-world know aught of Roland and of great Carolus, his
-master?”</p>
-
-<p>“That you must ask the mortal over yonder,” replied
-Judas; “we have nothing to do with the earth. He is a
-doctor and magister, and must be able to give an account
-of his generation.”</p>
-
-<p>The giant fixed his eyes inquiringly upon me, and I
-replied: “Noble Paladin! Humanity has grown cold and
-depraved; its shallow skull is nailed to the present, and looks
-neither forward nor backward; but we are not yet so bad
-that we should forget the glorious heroes that once walked
-our earth, and threw their shadows into our times.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">The spirit of song seemed to have come over the company,
-for no sooner had Andrew ended than Judas began
-to sing unasked, and the others followed him. With a
-resounding bass voice Roland sang a war-hymn of the old
-Franconians, only a few words of which I understood, and
-at last, when they had all sung, they looked at me, and
-Rose nodded encouragingly. So I began—</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Am Rhein, am Rhein, da wachsen unsere Reben</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Da wächst ein deutscher Wein.”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin">When I had finished, they all came crowding about me to
-shake my hand, and Andrew breathed a kiss upon my lips.</p>
-
-<p>“Do they sing that?” cried Bacchus. “Now then,
-Doctor, I’m mighty glad to hear that; your race cannot
-be so very frail if it sings such clear and cheery songs.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Ah, sir,” I said sadly, “there are many sentimentalists
-who refuse to give such a song the credit of being poetry,
-like some pietists who consider the Lord’s prayer not
-mystic enough for devotion.”</p>
-
-<p>“There have been fools at all times, sir!” replied
-Peter. “But talking about your generation, tell us what
-has happened on earth during the last year?”</p>
-
-<p>“If it would interest the ladies and gentlemen,” I
-replied.</p>
-
-<p>“Go ahead,” cried Roland, and the others joining him,
-I began—</p>
-
-<p>“As regards German literature——”</p>
-
-<p>“Hold on, <i>manum de tabula!</i>” cried Paul. “What do
-we care about your miserable scribbling, about your puerile,
-disgusting quarrels, about your poetasters and false prophets
-and——”</p>
-
-<p>I was dumfounded. If our wonderful, magnificent
-literature had no interest for these people, what could I
-tell them? I thought a while, and then continued: “It
-is evident that Joco, so far as the theatre is concerned——”</p>
-
-<p>“Theatre? Go away with you!” interrupted Andrew.
-“Why should we hear about your puppet-shows and other
-follies? Do you suppose it is aught to us if one of your
-comedy-writers is hissed? Have you nothing interesting—no
-great historical facts to tell us about?”</p>
-
-<p>“Alack-a-day,” I cried, “we are quite out of historical
-facts; in that line there is nothing but the Bundestag at
-Frankfurt.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">The dance the two were performing was according to the
-mode of two or three centuries ago. Dame Rose had
-seized her petticoats in both hands, and spread them out so
-that she looked like an immense cask. She walked trippingly
-back and forth, bobbing up and down in a succession
-of curtseys. Much greater vivacity did her partner display,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>
-who whirled about her like a top, leaping boldly,
-snapping his fingers, and shouting ho! and hallo! Odd
-enough did he look, what with the dainty apron of Mistress
-Rose, which Balthasar had tied around him, fluttering about
-in the air; how his little legs jerked, and his round face
-smiled for heartfelt pleasure and delight!</p>
-
-<p>At last he was tired; he beckoned to Judas and Paul and
-whispered something to them. They untied his apron,
-took it by both ends, and pulled and pulled, until suddenly
-it grew as large as a sheet. “Ah,” thought I, “now they
-will most likely play a joke on old Balthasar. If only the
-vault were not so low as it is; I fear me he’ll break his
-skull.” Then came Judas and Bartholomew and caught
-hold of me; Balthasar smiled maliciously; I trembled,
-I resisted, all to no purpose. My senses threatened to leave
-me as with shouting and laughter they laid me upon the
-cloth. “Not too high, my honoured patrons,” I cried in
-great trepidation; but they laughed and shouted the louder.
-Now they began to rock the sheet, Balthasar blowing a
-tune on a tunnel. Now it began to go up and down, first
-3, 4, or 5 feet, then suddenly they gave a jerk, I flew up,
-and the ceiling opened like a cloud; up, up higher I flew
-through the roof of the rathhaus, higher than the steeple of
-the church. “Well,” I thought, “it’s up with me now!
-When I fall, I shall break my neck. Farewell, my life and
-my love!”</p>
-
-<p>I had now reached the highest point of my ascent, and
-I fell as rapidly. Crash! Right through the roof of the
-rathhaus, down through the ceiling of the cellar; but I did
-not fall upon the sheet once more. I lighted on a chair
-with which I fell over backward upon the floor.</p>
-
-<p>For some time I lay stunned by the fall. A pain in my
-head and the coolness of the ground woke me at last. At
-first I could not think whether I had fallen out of bed at
-home, or what was the matter. At last I remembered, that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>
-I had fallen down from some very high region. With some
-anxiety I examined my limbs; nothing was broken, only my
-head pained me from the fall. I was in a cellar, the daylight
-shone in dimly, the light of a candle was dying out
-upon the table, there were bottles and glasses about, before
-every chair a little bottle with a long label about its neck.
-Ah, now I remembered everything. I was in Bremen, in
-the rathskeller; I had come in here last night, had been
-locked in, and then——. Full of horror I looked about me.
-I ventured to cast shy glances into the corners of the room;
-it was empty. Or was it possible I could have dreamed it
-all?</p>
-
-<p>Thoughtfully I walked around the table; the little sample-bottles
-stood where my strange guests had sat. First Rose,
-then Judas, James, and John. “No, a dream cannot be so
-like reality,” I said to myself. “All this that I heard and
-saw did actually occur!” But there was no time for further
-reflections. I heard keys rattle in the lock, it was slowly
-opened, and the old rathsdiener entered saying: “It has
-just struck six.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Wilhelm Hauff</i> (1802-1827).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_DUEL_WITH_THE_DEVIL"><i>THE DUEL WITH THE DEVIL.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">M</span>EANWHILE something occurred which I<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> must not
-pass over, as it may serve as a commentary to the
-customs of this peculiar nation. I had been for some time
-an ardent visitor at the anatomy-rooms, for I was anxious to
-make the acquaintance of medical students. It happened
-one day that I was busying myself about a corpse with several
-friends, dissecting the organs of the mind, the brain, and
-heart in order to deduce the absurdity of the belief in
-immortality.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly I heard a voice behind me, “The devil, how
-stifling!”</p>
-
-<p>I quickly turned and saw a young student of theology,
-who had already excited my wrath in a dogmatic lecture by
-the ardour and gusto with which he had taken notes of the
-ridiculous conjectures of the professor on the nature of the
-diabolical. Hearing him make this remark, which at that
-moment, and from him, I took as referring wholly to myself,
-I told him pretty strongly that I objected to such personal
-and insinuating expressions.</p>
-
-<p>According to the ancient sacred law called “Comment,”
-this was an insult which could only be obliterated with blood.
-The theologian, a famous bravo, sent me his challenge the
-next day. This was just such a lark as I had been hoping
-for. Whoever cared for the good opinion of his fellow-students
-was expected to have a duel on record, although all
-of my friends admitted the custom to be utterly irrational
-and unnatural. I had prevailed upon my opponent to have
-the affair come off at a public resort, a couple of miles outside
-the town, and both parties put in an appearance at the
-designated place and time.</p>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span></p>
-<p>Solemnly each arrival was conducted into a room, where
-his coat was removed and replaced by the “paukwichs,”
-a sort of armour in which the duel was to be fought. This
-“paukwichs,” or armour, consisted in a hat with a broad
-brim sufficiently protecting
-the face; an
-enormously broad bandage
-made of leather,
-wadded and decorated
-with the colours of the
-society, to be strapped
-over the abdomen; an
-immense cravat standing
-stiffly about the
-neck, and affording
-protection to the chin,
-throat, part of the
-shoulders, and the upper
-portion of the chest.
-The arms were covered
-from the hands to the
-elbows with gloves made
-of old silk stockings. It
-must be confessed a
-figure in this unique
-armour looked funny
-enough. However, there
-was great safety in it, for
-only a part of the face,
-the upper half of the
-arm, and a part of the
-chest were at the mercy of the opponent’s rapier.</p>
-
-<div class="figleft illowp37" id="i_126a_2" style="max-width: 18.75em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_126a.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“A FIGURE IN THIS UNIQUE ARMOUR.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>A strong impulse to laugh came over me as I examined
-myself in the mirror. “The devil, in such attire, and about
-to enter the lists on behalf of the odour in the anatomy-room!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span></p>
-
-<p>My companions took my hilarity as an expression of
-courage and valour. Thinking, therefore, the right moment
-had now come, they conducted me into a large hall where
-the position of the enemy had been marked on the floor
-with chalk. A freshman considered it a high honour to be
-permitted to carry my rapier, as sword and sceptre were
-carried before the ancient emperors. It was a well-made
-weapon of finest steel, with a large hilt offering at the same
-time a protection for the hand.</p>
-
-<p>At last we stood facing each other. The student of
-theology put on a fierce expression and looked upon me
-with an air of disdain, which strengthened me in my
-purpose of setting a right handsome mark upon him.</p>
-
-<p>We put ourselves into the traditional posture, the blades
-were crossed, the seconds yelled “Ready!” and our rapiers
-whizzed through the air, and fell clinking upon the hilts.
-I confined myself to parrying the really masterly and artistic
-cuts of my opponent. I knew that my glory would be the
-greater if I merely defended myself at first and then gave
-him his deserts in the fourth or fifth round.</p>
-
-<p>Applause followed each pass. Never had there been such
-bold and decisive attacks, never such dignified and cold-blooded
-self-defence. My skill in fencing was lifted up
-into the seventh heaven by old hands, and there was much
-curiosity and conjecture as to my tactics of retaliation. No
-one dared urge me to the onset.</p>
-
-<p>Four rounds had passed without one thrust that had
-drawn blood. Before stepping forth for the fifth, I pointed
-out to my comrades the spot on my theologian’s right cheek
-where I intended to hit him. He seemed to get wind of
-my purpose, put himself under cover as much as possible,
-and carefully abstained from venturing an attack on his
-part. I began with a superb feint, which was received with
-an admiring “Ah!”, made a couple of regular thrusts, and
-with a clap my rapier was in his cheek.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span></p>
-
-<p>The honest theologian was very much taken aback. My
-second and witness rushed up to him with a tape-measure,
-examined the wound, and said in a solemn voice, “It is
-more than an inch, and it gaps horribly, so ‘Abfuhr!’”
-Which is as much as to say, the poor boy having a
-hole in his face an inch long, his honour has been
-vindicated.</p>
-
-<p>Now my friends crowded about me; the elder grasped my
-hands, the younger gazed with veneration upon the weapon
-with which the deed, surpassing anything in history, had
-been done. For who could boast of first having designated
-the spot he intended to hit, and then hitting it with such
-marvellous precision?</p>
-
-<p>With a serious mien my opponent’s second stepped up to
-me, and in the name of the former offered me amity. I
-approached the invalid, whose wound was just being attended
-to with needle and thread, and made friends.</p>
-
-<p>“I am greatly indebted to you,” he said, “for having
-marked me thus. I have been forced to study theology
-against my will. My father is a country parson, my mother
-is a pious lady, who would like above all things to see her son
-in a surplice. But your decisive stroke has altered matters;
-with a scar reaching from my ear to my mouth there is no
-church that would have me.”<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p>
-
-<p>The companions of the brave theologian looked upon him
-sympathisingly. Who could measure his sad regrets at the
-thought of the old parson’s grief, the pious mamma’s despair,
-when the news of this disaster should reach them? But to
-me it seemed like a great piece of good luck for the youth
-to be given back to the world by so short an operation. I
-asked him to what studies he would now devote himself,
-and he frankly confessed that the calling of a cuirassier
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>or of an actor had always seemed chiefly attractive to
-him.</p>
-
-<p>I felt like embracing him for this happy thought, for it is
-in these very professions that I have most of my friends and
-adherents. I advised him urgently to follow the bend of
-nature, and promised to supply him with the best recommendations
-to distinguished generals and to the most
-notable stages.</p>
-
-<p>As for all the persons in any way connected with this
-remarkable duel, I gave them an excellent dinner, in which
-of course I included my opponent and his followers. I
-then privately paid the debts of the quondam theologian,
-and when he had recovered I supplied him with money and
-letters, which opened a right jolly and brilliant career to him.</p>
-
-<p>Neither the elegant conclusion of the duel nor my
-unobtrusive charity remained a secret. I was now looked
-upon as a being of a higher order, and I know many a
-young lady who shed tears over my generous sentiments.</p>
-
-<p>The students of medicine sent a deputation presenting me
-with a superb rapier, because, as they thought, I had fought
-on behalf of the faultless odour of their anatomy-room.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Wilhelm Hauff.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="EDITORIAL_CO-OPERATION"><i>EDITORIAL CO-OPERATION.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin">“<span class="dropcap">A</span>S our paper must needs be very universal,” I said,
-“and as there should be something in the title to
-express this tendency, how would it do to call it ‘Literary
-Provender’?”</p>
-
-<p>“That would not be bad; there might be a vignette representing
-the public as a bevy of fowls clustering about the
-Muse, who is cutting up food for them; but it will not do.
-Some might take offence at Provender; it might seem as if
-only the leavings from the great dinner-table of literature
-were to be served to the public. It won’t do!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then,—‘Evening-Bells.’”</p>
-
-<p>“‘Evening-Bells?’ Ah, indeed. That is an idea!
-There is something so soft and soothing about the word.
-I’ll make a note of the suggestion. But we should have to
-have a critical supplement. I have been thinking we might
-call it ‘The Distiller.’”</p>
-
-<p>“It is very expressive,” I replied; “it is quite customary
-in these times to subject books to a chemical process of
-review or criticism; the distillation is carried on until the
-spirit sought for has evaporated, or until the learned chemist
-can announce to the world what all the different elements
-were that combined in the decoction he analysed. But
-with such a name the paper might appear to smell of the
-gin-shop. How would it strike you to call it ‘The Critical
-Chimney-Sweep’?”</p>
-
-<p>The publisher gazed at me in silence for a moment, and
-then embraced me with emotion. “An idea,” he cried; “a
-remarkable idea! What a volume of meaning there is in
-the word! German literature is the chimney, our reviewers
-are the sweepers: they scrape down the literary soot, to
-preserve the house from fire. It must be an extremely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>
-radical paper; it must be striking, that is the first thing.
-‘The Critical Chimney-Sweep!’ And we will bring the art
-critiques under the promising title, ‘The Artistic Night-Watch.’”
-Hastily putting down the names, he continued:
-“Sir, my guardian-angel has brought you to my door; when
-I sit by my table writing my mind seems blocked up,
-but I have often noticed that when I once begin to
-speak, my thoughts flow like a stream. So when you
-were speaking of Walter Scott and his influence a glorious
-idea arose within me. I will make a German Walter
-Scott.”</p>
-
-<p>“How so? Are you too going to write a novel?”</p>
-
-<p>“I? Dear me, no; I have something better to do; and
-<i>one</i>? no, twenty! If I only had my thoughts all ordered. I
-am going to procure a great Unknown, and this mysterious
-personage is to consist of a party of novel-writers; do you
-understand?”</p>
-
-<p>“It is not quite clear to me, I confess. How will
-you——?”</p>
-
-<p>“There is nothing that cannot be accomplished with
-money; I shall address myself to, say, six or eight clever
-men who have already made their mark in writing novels,
-invite them here, and offer the proposal that they should join
-to produce this Walter Scott. They choose the historical
-subjects and characters, discuss the secondary figures to
-be introduced, and then——”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, now I understand your glorious plan; then you
-will erect a factory like the one at Scheeran. You will send
-for cuts of all the most romantic scenery in Germany; the
-costumes of old times can be procured at Berlin; legends
-and songs can be found in the <i>Boys’ Wonderhorn</i>, and
-other collections. You engage two or three dozen of aspiring
-young men; your sexavirat, the great Unknown, gives
-the general plot of the novels, here and there he models and
-corrects an important character; the twenty-four or thirty-six<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>
-others write the dialogue, picture towns, scenes, buildings,
-after nature——”</p>
-
-<p>“And,” he interrupted me gleefully, “as the one has
-more talent for the delineation of scenery, the other for
-costumes, the third for conversation, the fourth or fifth for
-comedy, others for the tragic——”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, I see; so the young poets will be divided into
-painters of scenery, tailors of costume, leaders of conversation,
-comedians, and tragedians, and the novel passes
-through the hands of each, like the pictures at Campe’s in
-Nuremberg, where one draws the sky, the other the earth,
-this one roofs, and that one soldiers, where one paints green,
-the other blue, the third red, the fourth yellow.”</p>
-
-<p>“And in this way harmony and uniformity would be
-reached, just as they are in Walter Scott, where all characters
-have a striking family resemblance. And we’ll have a
-pocket-edition as cheap as possible; we can count on forty
-thousand.”</p>
-
-<p>“And the title shall be: ‘The History of Germany, from
-Hermann the Cheruskian to 1830, in one hundred historical
-novels!’”</p>
-
-<p>Herr Salzer shed tears of emotion. Having recovered,
-he seized my hand. “Well, am I not as enterprising as
-anybody?” he said. “Think of the talk it will make.
-But to you, most excellent friend, I am indebted for aid
-in bringing forth this giant thought. Pick out the handsomest
-book in my shop, and in token of my gratitude I
-name you to be—one of the twenty-four!”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Wilhelm Hauff.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp71" id="i_133" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_133.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“HE PUT THE ORANGE ON THE TABLE BEFORE HIM.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak"><i>MOZART’S JOURNEY TO PRAGUE.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was in the autumn of the year 1787 that Mozart,
-accompanied by his wife, undertook the journey to
-Prague to supervise the performance of <i>Don Juan</i>.</p>
-
-<p>“The waggon drawn by three horses,” writes the Baroness
-von T. to her friend, “a stately chaise of reddish yellow,
-was the property of a certain old Frau Generalin Volkstett,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>
-who was fond of setting her relations to the Mozart family,
-and the kindnesses she bestowed upon the same in the
-right light.” This hasty description of the vehicle in
-question can easily be enlarged upon by any connoisseur
-of the taste of those days. The reddish-yellow chaise was
-decorated on each side with bouquets of flowers in their
-natural colours; the edges of the doors bore narrow gilt
-mouldings; the whole could not by any means boast the
-glassy varnish of to-day’s Vienna mode; the body was
-not fully rounded, though drawn in below with a bold,
-coquettish curve; then there was a high top with stiff
-leather curtains, which, for the time being, were pushed
-back.</p>
-
-<p>Regarding the attire of the two passengers there is
-this to be said. With wise economy Frau Constanze
-had packed her spouse’s new and splendid garments of
-state and chosen modest ones for the occasion; with an
-embroidered vest of somewhat faded blue there was his
-common brown coat with a row of large buttons, so
-fashioned that there was a layer of reddish gold-leaf
-glimmering through a starry surface, black silk trousers
-and stockings, and gilt buckles on his shoes. For the
-last half-hour he has abandoned his coat on account of
-the unusual heat, and sits gaily talking bare-headed, and
-in shirt-sleeves. Madam Mozart wears a comfortable
-travelling-dress, light green and white striped; a wealth
-of light-brown curls, but loosely fastened, fall over her
-neck and shoulders; as long as she lived they were never
-disfigured by powder; her husband’s thick cue was also
-more scantily supplied than usual owing to the ceremonial
-freedom of travel.</p>
-
-<p>The horses had just walked slowly up a gently sloping
-hill between ripe fields that interrupted the long stretches
-of woodland here and there, and now they had reached
-the edge of the woods.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Through how many miles of woods have we passed
-to-day and yesterday and the day before,” said Mozart,
-“and thought nothing of it, it never so much as occurring
-to me to set my foot within them. Let us get down now,
-darling mine, and get some of those dainty blue-bells over
-there in the shade. Your poor beasts, postillion, will be
-glad of a rest.”</p>
-
-<p>As they both arose a little mishap came to light, which
-brought upon the Meister something of a scolding.
-Through his carelessness a flask of fragrant essence had
-come open, and had poured its contents unobserved over
-their garments and over the cushioned interior of the chaise.
-“I might have known it,” lamented Frau Constanze;
-“there was such a sweet odour all the time! Alack-a-day,
-a whole flask of pure <i>Rosée d’aurore</i> quite empty! I was so
-chary of it.” “Ah, little miser,” he comforted her, “take
-thought, and consider that thus, and thus only, could your
-divine smelling-whisky do us any good. At first we sat as
-in an oven, for all your fanning, and then suddenly there
-was a cool and refreshing atmosphere. You attributed it to
-the drop or two I poured on my jabot; we were revived,
-and conversation was once more animated and gay, whereas
-before our heads had hung low like those of sheep on the
-butcher’s cart; and this benefit will stay with us for all the
-rest of the way. But now let us put our Vienna noses into
-the green wilderness here.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp37" id="i_126" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_126.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“ARM-IN-ARM THEY ENTERED THE DUSKY SHADE OF
-THE FIR-TREES.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Arm-in-arm they scrambled through the trench by the
-side of the road and entered the dusky shade of the fir-trees.
-The spicy freshness, the sudden change from the
-sunny glow without, might have proved disastrous to the
-reckless man but for the prudence of his companion. She
-had some trouble in urging his discarded garment upon him.
-“Ah, the glory of it,” he cried, gazing up the tall trunks;
-“it is like being in church! Seems to me I never was in
-the woods before, and it is only now that I can see what
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>this means, this assembly of trees! No man’s hands
-planted them, they all came of themselves, and stand so
-only just because it is jolly to live and labour together.
-Fancy, when I was young I passed this way and that through
-Europe; I saw the Alps and the ocean, the most beautiful
-and most sublime things that were ever created; and now
-here stands the fool in an ordinary forest of firs on the
-boundary-line of Bohemia, astonished and enraptured that
-such things should be, that it’s not just <i>una finzione di poeti</i>,
-like the nymphs and fauns and all that, and no stage-forest;
-no, it’s a genuine one, grown out of the earth, nourished by
-its moisture and by the warm light of the sun.”</p>
-
-<p>“To hear you talk,” said his wife, “one would think you
-had never gone twenty steps into our Vienna <i>Prater</i>, which
-surely can boast of similar wonders and rarities.”</p>
-
-<p>“The <i>Prater</i>? Thunder and lightning! How dare you
-name the word here! What with their carriages, and state
-uniforms, and toilets and fans, and music, and all horrors
-under the sun, there’s nothing to be seen beyond. And
-even the trees, though they are big enough to be sure, I
-don’t know how it is—beech-nuts and acorns lying on the
-ground can’t for the life of them help looking like brothers
-and sisters to the hosts of worn-out corks among them.
-For miles it smells of waiters and sauces.”</p>
-
-<p>“Was there ever such ingratitude!” cried she; “and all
-this from a man who is deaf to all other delights when he
-can dine on baked chickens at the <i>Prater</i>!”</p>
-
-<p>When they were both seated in the chaise once more,
-and the road, after running through a flat stretch, began to
-fall again to where a laughing landscape unfolded, losing
-itself in the distant hill-lands, the Meister began again after
-a span of silence: “This world is truly beautiful, and no one
-is to be blamed for wishing to stay here as long as possible.
-Thank God, I feel as strong and hale as ever, and there are
-a thousand things I should like to be up to as soon as ever<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>
-my new <i>opus</i> is done and on the stage. How much there
-is out in the world and how much there is at home,—things
-remarkable and things beautiful, that I do not even know of,
-wonder-works of nature, science, art, and useful trades! The
-black collier-boy yonder knows just about as much as I do
-about some things, by my soul. I should like for the life
-of me to take a look into this, that, and the other thing,
-that doesn’t come within the narrow limits of my trade.”</p>
-
-<p>“The other day,” she answered, “I came across an old
-pocket calendar of yours; it was of ’85; there are three or
-four memoranda in it. One of them, under-scored, is:
-<i>Professor Gattner, to visit him</i>. Who is he?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, yes, I know—the kind old gentleman at the observatory,
-who has invited me there from time to time. I have
-always wished you and I could take a look at the moon and
-the man in it. They have a tremendous telescope up there
-now; they say it seems as if you could touch the mountains
-and valleys and rifts, and on the side where the sun doesn’t
-shine the shadows that the mountains cast. It’s two years
-now that I’ve wanted to see it, and I don’t manage to
-get around to it, ridiculous and shameful though it
-seems!”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, well,” said she, “the moon won’t run away. There
-are many things we’ll make up for later. I have a presentiment.”</p>
-
-<p>“Out with it!”</p>
-
-<p>“I heard a little bird twitter that ere long the King of
-Prussia would need a <i>Capellmeister</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oho!”</p>
-
-<p>“General Musical Director, I would say. Let me spin a
-dream! It is a weakness I have from my mother.”</p>
-
-<p>“Go ahead! the wilder the better!”</p>
-
-<p>“No, quite natural. First then take the time, a year
-from date——”</p>
-
-<p>“When the Pope marries Kate——”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Hush, you clown! I say a year from to-day there must
-be no such person as an Imperial composer named Wolf
-Mozart to be found within the walls of Vienna.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you kindly for that!”</p>
-
-<p>“I hear our old friends talking about us and our fortunes.”</p>
-
-<p>“Give us an example.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, say one morning, shortly after nine, our exubriant
-old neighbour, Frau Volkstett, strutting straight across the
-cabbage market. She had been absent for three months;
-her great journey to visit her brother-in-law—her constant
-theme since we knew her—had at last become a reality; and
-now she has come back, and her full heart—bubbling over
-with the joy of travel and the impatience of friendship, and
-all sorts of delightful news—draws her irresistibly to the Frau
-Oberst. Upstairs she goes, taps at the door, and, without
-waiting to be bidden, walks in; you can imagine the delight
-and the embracements from both sides! ‘Now, dearest, best
-Frau Oberst,’ she begins, after some preliminaries, taking a
-fresh breath, ‘I bring you a bagful of messages! Can you
-guess from whom?’ ‘What? is it possible—did you pass
-through Berlin? Did you see the Mozarts? Ah, dear,
-sweet friend, relieve my impatience! How are our good
-friends? Do they like it as well as they did at first?’ ‘Yes,
-indeed! This summer the king sent him to Karlsbad.
-When would his beloved majesty, Emperor Joseph, have
-thought of doing such a thing? They had both but just
-come back when I was there. He is beaming with health
-and life, is growing stout and roundish, and is as lively as
-Mercury.’”</p>
-
-<p>And now the little woman proceeded to elaborate everything
-in her assumed <i>rôle</i> in the most glowing colours. Of
-their home <i>Unter den Linden</i>, of their garden and country-house,
-of the brilliant effectiveness of his appearance in
-public, and of the exclusive little gatherings at court, where
-he accompanied the queen’s song on the piano, her description<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>
-taking life as she went on. Entire conversations, the
-most charming anecdotes, she seemed to shake out of her
-sleeve. At the same time she was roguish enough to supply
-the person of our hero with a number of brand-new homely
-virtues, which had sprouted out of the solid ground of
-Prussian existence, and among which the said Frau
-Volkstett had noted as the highest phenomenon and proof
-of the marvellous potence of new surroundings the wee beginnings
-of a most praiseworthy little trait of parsimony, which
-proved a most graceful acquisition. “Yes, and only think,
-he has three thousand thalers secure, and all that for what?
-For leading a concert once a week and the opera twice.
-Ah, I saw him, our dear, little precious Mozart, in the
-midst of his <i>kapelle</i>. I sat with his wife in her box right
-across from their majesties. And what did the handbill
-say? Here it is; I brought it for you,—I wrapped it about
-a little present I brought you from myself and the Mozarts;
-here it is in plain letters!</p>
-
-<p>“Heaven help us! <i>Tarar!</i> Ah, dear friend! To think
-that I should live to see it! Two years ago, when Mozart
-was writing his <i>Don Juan</i>, and that confounded villainous
-Salieri was also making preparations to repeat the triumph
-his piece brought him in Paris upon his own territory, and
-when he and his boon-companions thought they had plucked
-the <i>Don Juan</i> as they had <i>Figaro</i>, leaving it neither dead
-nor alive to put it upon the stage,—don’t you remember, I
-then and there took a vow not to go and see the infamous
-piece, and I kept my word. When everybody rushed to
-the show—you too, dear Frau Oberst—I sat down quietly
-by my stove and took my cat upon my lap to spend the
-evening. But now, think of it! <i>Tarar</i> on the Berlin stage,
-the work of his bitterest enemy, directed by Mozart! ‘You
-must come,’ he said to me, ‘though it were only to tell them
-in Vienna that I do not hurt a hair of his head. I wish he
-were here himself, the envious knave, to see that there is no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>
-need for <i>me</i> to murder another fellow’s thing to remain what
-I am!’”</p>
-
-<p>“Brava! bravissima!” exclaimed Mozart with roaring
-delight. He took his little wife by the ears, kissing and tickling
-her, until this bright soap-bubble game of a dreamy
-future—which, alas! never approximated this happy culmination—ended
-in mirth and boisterous laughter.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile they had reached the valley, and were
-approaching a village which they had noticed from the hill-top,
-and behind which a pleasant country-house in modern
-style, the residence of the Count von Schinzberg, became
-visible. It was their intention to rest and dine in the place.
-The inn where they stopped was quite at the end of the
-village, and close beside it a by-road planted with a row of
-poplars led to the garden of the Count.</p>
-
-<p>Mozart left the ordering of dinner to his wife, merely
-signifying his intention of having a glass of wine in the
-common room below, while she asked for a drink of water
-and for a quiet spot in which to enjoy a peaceful hour’s sleep.
-She was shown up a flight of stairs, her husband following,
-humming and whistling a tune as he went. In a newly
-whitewashed room, just aired, there was, among other old-fashioned
-furniture of noble origin,—which had, no doubt,
-wandered hither out of the possessions of the Count,—a
-neat, airy bed, with a painted canopy resting on slender
-green posts, the silk curtains of which had long ago been
-replaced by some more common fabric. Constanze exacted
-a promise from her husband to be waked in time, and bolted
-the door behind him, he seeking amusement in the common
-tap-room. There was not a soul there, however, except
-the host; and, finding the conversation of the latter as little
-to his taste as the wine, he thought to fill out the time
-before dinner with a walk to the Count’s park. He was
-told that respectable strangers were allowed to enter, and,
-moreover, the family had gone out for a drive.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span></p>
-
-<p>He went, and ere long he had reached the open gate,
-and was walking slowly along under the stately limes until
-he had the schloss in view. It was built in the Italian
-style, light in colour, with a generous flight of steps lying
-broadly to the front; the slate roof was decorated with
-statues in the usual manner, gods and goddesses, and a
-balustrade.</p>
-
-<p>Turning away from the <i>parterres</i> of blooming flowers, the
-Meister bent his steps toward the shrubbery, passing groups
-of beautiful pines, and gradually approaching sunnier spots
-once more, attracted by the merry sound of a splashing
-fountain which he soon reached.</p>
-
-<p>The large oval basin was set round with orange trees in
-tubs, intermingled with laurels and oleanders; there was
-a small arbour at one side, and a soft path of sand led
-around to it. The arbour seemed a most attractive spot
-for a rest; there was a seat and small table in it, and
-Mozart sat down near the entrance.</p>
-
-<p>Inclining his ear indolently to the gentle plash of the
-water, his eyes resting upon an orange tree of medium size
-standing apart from the others close by his side and covered
-with exquisite fruit, our friend, under the influence of these
-reminiscences of the South, fell to musing on a graceful
-episode of his boyish travels. Smiling thoughtfully, he put
-out his hand to touch the fruit and feel its delicious juicy
-coolness in his hollow hand. In connection with the
-youthful scene arising before him there was a half-forgotten
-musical memory the uncertain trail of which he
-was dreamily following. Now his eyes begin to shine,
-they wander restlessly here and there; a thought had
-seized him, and he is eagerly following it. Absentmindedly
-he takes hold of the orange once more; it
-breaks from the branch, and he holds it in his hand. He
-does not see it; so far is he absorbed in his artistic
-preoccupation that he turns and twirls the fragrant fruit<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>
-under his nose, moving his lips inaudibly to some newly-caught
-melody. At last, without knowing what he does,
-he takes a small enamelled case out of a pocket of his
-coat, pulls out a silver-handled knife, and slowly cuts the
-golden ball in two. Perhaps he was led by a vague feeling
-of thirst, but the delicious fragrance seemed to satisfy his
-stimulated senses. For moments he gazed fixedly at the
-two inner surfaces, then gently put them together, very
-gently separated, and joined them once more.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly he heard steps approaching; he started, and
-the consciousness of where he was and of what he had
-done dawned upon him. He was about to hide the orange,
-but desisted immediately, impelled by pride or by the
-knowledge that it was too late. A tall, broad-shouldered
-man in a livery, the Count’s gardener, stood before him.
-He had evidently seen the last suspicious motion, and
-looked at him dubiously. Mozart was silent also, and
-felt as if he were nailed to his seat; he glanced up with
-a half-laugh and a visible blush, but at the same time
-there was a look of undaunted frankness in his large blue
-eyes; then with a petulant air of courageous audacity,
-which would have been absurdly funny to an unconcerned
-looker-on, he put the orange, apparently uninjured, in the
-middle of the table before him.</p>
-
-<p>“Begging your pardon,” said the gardener, now repressing
-his indignation, after having inspected the unpromising garb
-of the stranger, “I do not know with whom I have the
-honour——”</p>
-
-<p>“Kapellmeister Mozart from Vienna.”</p>
-
-<p>“Doubtless you are an acquaintance of the Count?”</p>
-
-<p>“I am a stranger here, passing through the village merely.
-Is the Count at home?”</p>
-
-<p>“No.”</p>
-
-<p>“The Countess?”</p>
-
-<p>“Is occupied, and it is unlikely she will see any one.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span></p>
-
-<p>Mozart arose and seemed about to go.</p>
-
-<p>“I beg your pardon, sir,—by what right did you help
-yourself in this garden?”</p>
-
-<p>“What?” cried Mozart; “help myself? The devil! do
-you believe I wanted to steal and eat that thing here?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sir, I believe what I see. These fruits are counted,
-and I am responsible. This tree is designed by the Count
-to figure at an entertainment; just now it was to be carried
-away. I cannot let you go before having made mention of
-this affair, and before you explain how this happened.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, I will wait here. You may depend upon
-it.”</p>
-
-<p>The gardener looked around doubtfully, and Mozart,
-thinking he might be manœuvring for a fee, put his hand
-in his pocket, but there was not a coin in it.</p>
-
-<p>Two lads came up now, lifted the tree upon a barrow, and
-carried it away. Meanwhile our Meister had pulled out his
-note-book, and while the gardener did not leave his side, he
-wrote—</p>
-
-<p>“<span class="smcap">Gnädigste Frau</span>,—Here I sit, a poor unfortunate, in
-your paradise, like Adam after having tasted the apple. The
-evil is done, and I cannot even seek refuge by throwing the
-guilt upon the shoulders of gentle Eve, for the latter is
-sleeping the sleep of innocence at the inn guarded by the
-Graces and Cupids of a four-post bed. You have but to
-command, and I will personally give your Grace an account
-of my incomprehensible offence. In sincere contrition,
-your most obedient servant,</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">W. A. Mozart</span> (on the way to Prague).”
-</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>While this was passing in the schloss, our prisoner, not
-greatly concerned about the final result, had occupied himself
-with waiting. But as no one appeared, he began to walk
-up and down uneasily; then there came an urgent message
-from the inn to tell him dinner was ready, and would he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>
-please come at once, the postillion was anxious to get started.
-He picked up his things, and was about to leave without
-further ceremony, when the two gentlemen appeared before
-the arbour.</p>
-
-<p>The Count greeted him as he would an old acquaintance,
-with a ringing, sonorous voice, did not listen to his apologies,
-but at once expressed his desire to have the couple for his
-guests. “You are, my dear <i>maistro</i>, no stranger to us;
-indeed I may say that the name of Mozart is heard nowhere
-more frequently and with greater fervour. My niece plays
-and sings, spends nearly the whole day at her piano, knows
-your works by heart, and has the greatest desire to approach
-you personally, as she could not do in your concerts last
-winter. As we are going to Vienna for a few weeks, her
-relatives had promised her an invitation from Prince
-Gallizin, where you are often to be found. But it seems you
-are going to Prague, and there is no knowing when you will
-come back. Rest with us for a day or two! We will send
-your carriage back, and you will have the kindness to
-permit me to see to the continuation of your journey.”</p>
-
-<p>The composer, who was always willing to bring friendship
-or pleasure any sacrifice ten times as great as was here
-demanded, gladly complied for this half-day, at the same
-time setting his departure most definitely for the next morning.
-Count Max asked to be permitted to escort Frau
-Mozart from the inn, and to give the necessary orders
-there....</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Edward Mörike</i> (1804-1875).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_RABID_PHILOSOPHER"><i>A RABID PHILOSOPHER.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">A</span>T last I fell asleep, but it was only to be awakened at
-dawn by resounding footsteps passing to and fro in
-the adjoining room, intermingled with sounds from which I
-judged that there was an impatient searching of drawers or
-tables, and in every corner of the apartment. The hurrying
-and rummaging grew more violent, a soliloquy which at
-first softly accompanied the movements grew louder and
-louder, and gradually passed into exclamations of rage, and
-at last into a volley of oaths, which was not exactly in
-a Christian spirit, and which was accompanied by a savage
-stamping and bellowing. It seemed to me the man had
-gone mad. I dressed myself hastily, knocked at the door,
-and in my excitement, forgetting all form, I entered the
-room without awaiting his call. With flashing eyes the
-occupant darted at me as if about to seize me by my throat;
-suddenly he controlled himself, stood stock-still before me,
-gave me a penetrating glance, and said with quiet severity,
-“Sir, an unconscious thirst for knowledge has brought you
-to this room.” My conscience reproaching me for my
-breach of good manners, I was disarmed, and merely said
-“Yes,” in a dejected tone. I then asked him what for
-heaven’s sake was the matter with him. A. E.—for brevity’s
-sake I will henceforth call my fellow-traveller so—falling
-back into his fit of violence, cried in a voice of thunder,
-“My spectacles, my spectacles! They’ve seen fit to go and
-hide themselves—to say nothing at present of the key, the
-little devil!”</p>
-
-<p>“So you are merely looking for your spectacles? Is this
-an object worthy of such rage? Don’t you know what it is
-to be patient?”</p>
-
-<p>He was about to fly at me again, but, controlling himself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>
-once more, he merely looked at me and said: “Screw-drivers?
-cork-screws?”</p>
-
-<p>“What do you mean by that?”</p>
-
-<p>“I dreamed I had a wife—horrible to relate. I laughed
-at her for reading papers without cutting the leaves, and
-for putting up for years with a drawer that would not go.
-Thereupon she gave me a sermon on patience, and required
-me to exercise myself in that virtue by wearing screws and
-screw-drivers on my coat instead of buttons and button-holes,
-suggesting that they might be quite ornamental if
-made out of oxidised metal; or she said I might have corks,
-which I would be obliged to remove by means of a cork-screw
-every time I wished to unbutton my coat. Ah,
-pshaw! a woman is quite capable of putting a cover upon
-a dressing-case in such a manner that it will catch every
-time the upper drawer is opened and shut. Sir, a woman
-has <i>time</i> for the struggle with the villain called matter; she
-lives in this struggle, it is her element; a man has no
-business to have time for this, he needs his patience for
-things that are <i>worthy</i> of patience. It is an imposition to
-expect him to waste either for what is worthless, an imposition
-against which he may, can, and must rage! You
-must know that. You must know that these unworthy
-objects, these hooks and crooks of matter, never get
-entangled with your destiny except when you are in
-most desperate haste to complete something which is
-necessary and reasonable! Miserable gimcrack, worthless
-button or ball of twine, or string to my eye-glasses that gets
-twisted about one of the buttons of my vest just at the very
-moment when it is necessary to look over a time-table in
-small type at the railway station, I have no time, no time
-for ye! And if I were to set a thousand leeches on eternity,
-they would not draw out a single moment of time for
-ye!”</p>
-
-<p>“But what is the use of all this bluster?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Oh, insipid! Was it of no use to Luther—if you are
-going to talk about use—to rail at the devil? Don’t you
-know what it is to disburden your poor soul? Have you
-never heard of the precious balm that lies in a good round
-oath?”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp66" id="i_148" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_148.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“I TOOK THE EXASPERATED MAN AND POINTED SILENTLY TO THE SPOT.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The evil spirit took possession of him anew; he rushed
-about the room in another paroxysm of rage pouring out a
-volley of abuse upon his poor innocent spectacles. Meanwhile<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>
-I looked about the floor; I picked up a couple of
-shirts that were clean, but terribly messed, and my eyes
-fell upon a mouse-hole in the boards. It seemed to me
-I saw something glitter there; I looked closer, and the
-discovery was made. I took the exasperated man by his
-arm and pointed silently to the spot. He gazed at it,
-recognised his missing glasses, and remarked: “Look at
-them well! Do you notice the sneer, the demoniac triumph
-in that evil glassy leer? Out with the entrapped monster!”</p>
-
-<p>It was not easy to pull the spectacles out of the hole;
-the trouble was really out of proportion to the value of the
-object. At last we succeeded; he held them out at arm’s-length,
-dropped them from there, cried in a solemn voice,
-“Sentence of death! <i>Supplicium!</i>” raised his foot, and
-crushed them with his heel, shivering them to bits.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s all very well,” I said, after a pause of astonishment;
-“but now you have no spectacles.”</p>
-
-<p>“No matter. At any rate this imp has met with a just
-retribution after years of indescribable malignity. Look
-you!” He pulled out his watch; it was a very common
-one—in fact, one of the lowest products of the horological
-industry. “In place of this honest, faithful creature,” he
-continued, “I once had a gold repeater, which, I may truly
-say, cost a deal of money. It requited this sacrifice for years
-and years with untold malice; it never would go right; it
-made a point of falling down and hiding; the crystals broke
-constantly, thereby nearly reducing me to pauperism; at last
-the monster conspired with the hook of my gold watch-chain,
-and the two together entered into an intrigue against me.
-As for the hook, sir, there is much that might be said on
-that subject. The insidiousness of objects in general—I
-should like to talk to you about that, sir, but I fear I should
-discourse at some length—the insidiousness, I say, is
-expressed so visibly in the villainous physiognomy of hooks
-that one cannot be too much on one’s guard in having anything<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>
-to do with these fiendish features. One is apt to think:
-‘I know you, the wicked crookedness of your outer form
-betrays you, you shall not get the better of me;’ and then
-this very sense of security misleads one into being unwary.
-It is quite the reverse with other objects. Who, for instance,
-would suspect a simple button of any evil design?”</p>
-
-<p>I begged him to finish the tragic story about his watch
-and hook.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, yes! Well, one night the hook crept softly across
-the small table, upon which I had carefully laid my watch,
-and artfully entwined itself into the seam of my pillow-case.
-I did not want the pillow. I lifted it suddenly and flung it to
-the foot-end of the bed, the watch of course going with it.
-In a noble arch it went flying through the air, struck the
-wall, and fell to the ground with a broken crystal. This was
-the last straw. I crushed it in cold blood like these criminal
-spectacles; the imp gave forth a sound, a hiss like a persecuted
-mouse; I swear to you that it was a sound quite
-outside the realm of physical nature. I then went and
-bought this modest timepiece for an absurdly low sum. Look
-at this faithful creature; note the expression of honesty in
-these homely features; for twenty years it has served me
-with steadfast fidelity; yes, I may say it has never given me
-any cause for complaint. The gold watch-chain I gave to
-my footman, the hook was condemned to die a shameful
-death in the sewer, and I wear my faithful turnip on this
-gentle silken cord.”</p>
-
-<p>During this detailed account he had grown quite tranquil,
-and now placidly continued——</p>
-
-<p>“Now for the story of this black hour! Look at this key”—he
-pulled out a small key, probably belonging to his
-valise—“and then at this candlestick!”—he held up the
-metal candlestick upside down close before my eyes, so that
-I could see a hollow place in the foot—“what do you
-think, what do you suppose, what do you say?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span></p>
-
-<p>“How am I to know?”</p>
-
-<p>“For the space of a good half-hour I have looked for
-that key this morning. I nearly lost my senses; at last
-I found it, like this, do you see?”</p>
-
-<p>He laid the key upon the little stand by his bed, and
-set the candlestick down upon it; the key just fitted the
-place under the foot.</p>
-
-<p>“Now tell me who would suspect this, who would be
-capable of such superhuman circumspection as to foresee
-and avoid such infernal tricks on the part of the object!
-And is this what I live for? Am I to waste the precious
-bit of time I have in such a slavish search for a bagatelle?
-To search and search, and to search again! One should
-never say A. or B. has lived for such and such a time,—not
-lived, but searched! And I am very, very punctual,
-believe me!”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, yes, life is a perpetual search,” I said, with a sigh
-which might be taken to refer to the trials of life, while
-in truth it was called forth by the <i>ennui</i> which this detailed
-occupation with the bagatelle had caused. This accounted
-for my flat remark, the sole object of which was to change
-the subject at all hazards.</p>
-
-<p>I little knew to whom I was talking. “What, sir,
-symbolic?” he said. “And I suppose you think that is
-deeper! Ah, oh!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, what now?”</p>
-
-<p>“You see, my dear sir, to search in a symbolical sense,
-to think that all of life is but a searching, that is not what
-I complain of, that is not what you should sigh about. The
-ethical goes without saying. An honest fellow will search
-and yearn and never complain, but be happy in the midst
-of this misery of an ever-rising and never-terminating line.
-That is our upper storey. But what we have to take along
-with it, the vexation and bother we must put up with in
-the lower storey of life, that is what I am talking of. There,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>
-for instance, is the necessity of searching, which makes you
-mad, nervous, insane. And, what is more, it strands you
-in Atheism. The dear God sitting on high and counting
-the hairs on our head, who sees me searching for my
-spectacles for hours at a time, he sees the spectacles too,
-knows just where they are,—can you bear it, the thought
-of how he must laugh? A kind, omnipotent Being! Do
-you think such a one would permit the curse of colds in
-your head? Alas, we are born to search, to undo knots,
-to sneeze and cough and spit! Man, with a proud world
-within his arched brows, with his beaming eyes, his spirit
-dipping into the depth and breadth of infinitude, with his
-soul rising on silver wings into the heavens, with his
-imagination pouring streams of golden fire over hill and
-vale and transforming the image of mortality to God, with
-his will, the flashing sword within his hand to adjust, to
-judge, to conquer, with pious patience to plant, to cherish,
-and watch over the tree of life that it may grow and flourish
-and bear heavenly fruit of noble culture, Man with the
-angelic image of the divine and beautiful within his longing,
-yearning bosom,—yes, this same Man, changed to a
-mollusc, his throat a grating-iron, a nest of devils, tickling
-the larynx with finest needles for nights and nights, his eyes
-dim, his brain heavy, dull, perturbed, his nerves poisoned,
-and, with all that, not considered ill; and you say that
-God——!”</p>
-
-<p>Here our denier of the existence of God was seized
-with so deplorable a fit of sneezing and coughing that I
-repressed a remark I had upon my tongue.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>Upon entering I noticed that he cast an uneasy glance all
-about the floor of the dining-hall; he seemed much relieved
-when in one corner he noticed a small object which may be
-of service to coughing persons. In a tone of supreme content
-he remarked, “This room is really very well furnished;”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>
-and from that time he seemed to be in tolerably good
-humour. As is common at the Swiss hotels, breakfast had
-been placed upon the table awaiting whoever should come
-to partake of it, and A. E., having pushed the butter and
-honey aside with some violence, helped himself freely. We
-were alone in the room, but soon another tourist entered.
-He was a middle-aged man, attired in a duster of unbleached
-linen, with a short cape hanging over his shoulders, and
-carrying a knapsack of some weight on his back. There
-were drops of perspiration visible upon his brow; it appeared
-evident that he had walked for some hours that morning.
-He laid down his burden, put his bulky umbrella in a
-corner, sat down at the other end of the table, pulled his
-chair up, took out his glasses, carefully looked at everything
-that had been set upon the table, seemed to quite approve
-of the completeness of things that go to make up an English
-breakfast, and then, with all the appearance of a soul
-conscious that the body belonging thereto had severely
-earned its breakfast, began the enjoyable task of cutting and
-spreading some slices of bread. It was easy to see that the
-man belonged to the class of scholars, and his pale complexion
-led me to judge that he was one of those tourists
-who strive to make up by pedestrian exertions for the harm
-they have done their bodies throughout the year by sedentary
-habits.</p>
-
-<p>A. E., who had meanwhile appeased his appetite, seemed
-to be in no special haste to depart. He lit a cigar, and
-said to me, “You admit, then, that physics is at bottom
-synonymous with metaphysics, the science of the spiritual.
-That is, I take for granted that you admit it, although I
-have not yet proved it to you philosophically, for you have
-surely recognised the universal insidiousness, ay, animosity
-of matter, what physical science has heretofore insipidly
-named the law of gravity, statics, etc., while it is in truth
-to be explained merely as demoniacal possession.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span></p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile the stranger had split a long roll lengthwise
-with dexterity and precision, and was occupied in spreading
-on the butter with great regard to perfect smoothness
-and evenness; he made a moment’s pause at the last
-words, casting a peculiar glance from under his bushy eye-brows
-over to our end of the table, and then thoughtfully
-continued his plastic occupation, wagging his head now and
-then with an expression of ironical surprise. The thought
-came to me that A. E. had designs upon the stranger. But
-I concluded that it was not the case. He had given him
-but a cursory glance as he entered, though it was a glance
-which might be supposed to grasp the personality before
-him, for his eye was wont to seize what it looked upon as if
-there were a strong hand within it; at the same time there
-was no sign of his paying any attention to the unknown.</p>
-
-<p>“Friend,” he continued, “have you noticed how a piece
-of falling paper will mock us? Are they not graceful, the
-sneering motions with which it flutters back and forth?
-Does not every turn tell you with elegant, voluptuous nonchalance
-that you are beaten? Oh, matter lies ever in
-waiting. I sit down cheerfully after breakfast to begin my
-work, never suspecting the enemy. I dip in my pen, there’s
-a hair in it; that is the way it begins. The fiend will not
-come out; I get ink on my fingers, the paper gets stained.
-I look for another sheet, then for a book, and so on; in
-short, my blessed morning is gone. From early dawn until
-late at night, so long as there is a human being about,
-matter is on the alert to play him a trick. The only way to
-do is to treat it as the lion-tamer does the beast whose cage
-he has ventured to enter—he meets its gaze and the beast
-meets his. To talk about the moral power of a human being
-is all nonsense, a mere fairy-tale; no, the steady gaze only
-tells the brute that the man is on his guard, and gaze
-against gaze the monster lurks to see if for one single
-moment he will forget himself. So lurks all matter, lead-pencils,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>
-pens, inkstand, paper, cigar, glass, lamp—all, all
-for the moment when you are not watching. But, ye
-saints! who can ever do it? Who has time? And like the
-tiger that leaps upon its unfortunate victim the moment he
-knows himself to be unnoticed, so does matter, drat it!
-sometimes clumsily, sometimes subtly, as the case may be.
-Diabolically subtle, for instance, was the bit of iron filing that
-landed in my eye the morning I was about to start out on
-my tour. Oh, believe me, when a respectable person is
-going a-travelling all the devils hold an œcumenical council
-to defeat him. But one of the favourite tricks dear to the
-heart of all objects is to creep stealthily to the edge, and
-drop down from a height to slip out of your hand—you forget
-yourself but a single moment and there goes——”</p>
-
-<p>At this moment we heard a slight sound at the end where
-the other man was sitting; we saw him dodge hastily under
-the table, and then emerge with an object in his hand,
-which he looked upon in evident distress, and then with
-deep dejection. It was his roll, spread first with butter and
-then with honey in the most accurate and approved manner,
-and, “of course,” as A. E. would say, it had fallen upon the
-buttered side.</p>
-
-<p>It was with a great effort that I overcame a strong desire
-to laugh, for it seemed exactly as if there had been a mystic
-primordial relation between his words and the disaster.
-A. E. glanced across the table with perfect gravity, and
-gently nodded his head without a vestige of irony; nay,
-rather, with an expression of sympathy, as much as to say:
-we poor mortals know all about it. The stranger shot not
-only one but a whole battery of venomous glances over to
-our side, and sullenly set to work to produce a fit successor
-to the incurable roll.</p>
-
-<p>A. E. continued quietly: “Then too I don’t like that
-business about that <i>thing</i>, or rather the two things, that Kant
-called the pure form of <i>à priori</i> perception.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Space and time?”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s it. What is space but an impertinent arrangement
-by means of which I am forced to remove A before
-putting B here” (he illustrated it with cups, dishes, and
-bottles, which were rather closely set upon the table), “and
-to make room for A put C somewhere else, and so on <i>ad
-infinitum</i>——? And time? That is what you never have
-for anything. For, ye gods and little fishes! is that what
-we live for to have need of ten motions for things that are
-not worthy of one!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp66" id="i_156" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_156.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“WE SAW HIM EMERGE WITH AN OBJECT IN HIS HAND.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span></p>
-
-<p>The stranger now shook his head with more violence,
-laughing petulantly, and a vague unrest seemed to take
-possession of his legs.</p>
-
-<p>A. E. rambled on. “At other times,” he continued, “the
-reverse action takes place. Things go together that don’t
-belong together. Do you know one of the most pestiferous
-forms of going along? When a precious sheet belonging to
-manuscript A manages to become attached to manuscript
-B, and slips into the wrong drawer, and declines to be
-found for days and weeks and years, while you are searching
-for it in rage and despair and impotent frenzy. Compared
-to that such a thing as the well-known slipping under
-your chair of a lady’s dress is but a little playful pleasantry
-on the part of the devil-ridden object, albeit it is interesting
-as a fact sufficient to defeat our nonsensical science of
-physics, for who could ever explain such a thing mechanically?”</p>
-
-<p>Here the stranger jumped up with the exclamation, “This
-is too much!” came upon us with heavy strides, planted
-himself firmly before A. E., and cried in a voice of thunder,
-“Sir, I would have you to know that I am a Professor of
-Physics! And, moreover, you have, so to speak, knocked
-my roll out of my hand!”</p>
-
-<p>A. E. gave the man a long, contemplative look and was
-silent. Who could tell how this was coming out? Suddenly
-a crimson flush came into his face, his eyes sparkled, he
-jumped up, and I, not knowing my man very well as yet,
-was beginning to fear for the peace, when he with enormous
-strides, ay, with leaps like a panther, rushed straight across
-the room towards the corner which held the article before
-delicately referred to, and now followed a fit of coughing
-and sneezing intermingled with strange, wild, gurgling
-sounds, a perfect storm of rasping, rumbling, rattling, snarling,
-groaning, and barking tones; it was like a chorus of
-infernal spirits. It took considerable time for this terrific<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>
-natural phenomenon to pass over; then the sufferer feebly
-raised his head, seized his hat, bag, and cane, and said to
-me in a pitiful, broken treble, “Will you have the goodness
-to appease the gentleman? Good morning to you both.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Friedrich Theodor Vischer</i> (1807-1889).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="HIS_SERENITY_WILL_BUILD_A_PALACE"><i>HIS SERENITY WILL BUILD A PALACE.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp59" id="i_159" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_159.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“HIS HIGHNESS ADOLF FRIEDRICH IV. TREMBLED FROM TOP TO TOE.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was in the year 1700 and something or other, on a
-pleasant May day about bed-time, that his Serene
-Highness the Duke of Mecklenberg-Strelitz, Adolf Friedrich,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>
-fourth of the name, and his dear sister, the Princess Christel,
-were sitting side by side in their palace telling each other
-true ghost stories, thrilling yarns that nobody under the sun
-would have believed if they hadn’t really happened; and
-they both sat shivering, more especially his Serenity Adolf
-Friedrich.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly through the still summer evening there came a
-sound across the lake, a most uncanny sound, a sound that
-none but the most masculine ghost would be guilty of to
-frighten a poor mortal out of his seven wits. With a hollow
-cadence long drawn out did it pass over the whole of Neu-Strelitz,
-and the princely pair could not for the life of them
-say whether it came from up in the air or from underneath
-the earth. It was all the same anyhow, it was gruesome
-enough either way. His Highness Adolf Friedrich IV.
-trembled from top to toe, and Princess Christel, who was
-confoundedly resolute for a woman, had just enough presence
-of mind left to catch hold of a silver bell and ring and
-storm with might and main. Why she did it she couldn’t
-have told you, but at any rate it brought human aid to the
-spot. Rand, the <i>valet de chambre</i>, and Von Knüppelsdörp,
-the gentleman of the bed-chamber, came rushing in to ask
-the why and wherefor. Princess Christel was just able to
-motion the two to a chair, and so the four of them sat staring
-at each other in dead silence, and none of them knew
-what was the matter except that they saw his Serenity had
-the shivers. All at once the sound came again, and as it
-was dying away over Neu-Strelitz in its hollow weirdness
-Adolf Friedrich IV. clapped his hands over his most serene
-ears and cried, “There it is again!” Von Knüppelsdörp,
-gentleman of the bed-chamber, took the words out of the
-mouth of Rand, the <i>valet</i>, on the strength of the Mecklenborgian
-regulations concerning rank, and remarked, “Your
-Highness, it’s the bittern.” And the Princess Christel had
-just enough presence of mind to ask what new kind of spook<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>
-that might be. And the gentleman of the bed-chamber said
-it was no spook at all, it was only a bird that took a devilish
-sort of delight in frightening honest folk by putting his beak
-in the swampy ground and then bellowing like a good one.
-I’m sure I don’t know whether he was right, but he ought
-to have known, for he was also page of the hunt. But his
-Serenity did not take much stock in what he said, and after
-having meditated a bit he remarked, “All good spirits praise
-the Lord; and as for you, Rand, I want you to sleep with
-me this coming night.” With that he left the room.</p>
-
-<p>Princess Christel sat a bit longer with the gentleman of
-the bed-chamber, discussing the question what potent charms
-she should employ to banish the ghost for the coming night,
-and who should sleep with her, for her lady-in-waiting,
-Caroline Soltmanns, was an old superstitious chatterer, and
-at last she came to the conclusion that it would be by far
-the best thing she could do to invite the scrubbing-maid
-Wendula Steinhagens for the night. Wendula was a d—d
-plucky person, who was not afraid of the devil nor of his
-Serenity the Duke, for she had been known to say, “Hallo
-there, your Highness; get out of the way, will you!” And
-had flourished her broom in his face.</p>
-
-<p>So the princely pair had passed the night safely under the
-tender care of Rand and Wendula, and were sitting at the
-breakfast table next morning drinking chocolate. Then did
-his Serenity come forth with his deep thoughts and remark,
-“Sister Christel, you are a woman, and you know I don’t
-think much of ’em; but you are a member of our most
-serene house, and for this reason, and on this account, I will
-make known to you the measures of my government.
-Would you know the news? I’ll build me a new palace on
-some pleasant spot in my domains.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s right, your Grace,” said she. “You are lord of
-the whole; but how will the money hold out?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I’ve thought of all that,” said his Serenity; “but what<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>
-have I got my bailiffs for? They must help me out of the
-lurch, and the workmen can wait awhile for their pay; for it
-is scandalous that Serenissimus Streliziensis should have to
-endure a spook under his very nose. To be sure, that fool
-Knüppelsdörp says it’s a bittern,—but what is a bittern?
-I’ll believe anything, but to believe an explanation like that
-is more than can be expected of me in my quality as
-sovereign lord.”</p>
-
-<p>“Rand,” he said to his <i>valet de chambre</i>, “tell Jochen
-Boenhas to hitch up the gilt coach, three footmen on
-behind, and the two runners to run ahead; the coachman
-and the footmen to put on their best livery with the gilt
-tassels, and the two runners shall wear their new flowered
-hats from Paris—<i>à la Pompadour</i>,” he added aside to his
-sister—“for I am going on a journey through my estates.”</p>
-
-<p>“Dear me, your Honour,” said Rand, “I’m afraid that
-won’t do, for our old mare that goes as the off-horse has the
-spavin, and can’t set one foot before the other.”</p>
-
-<p>“Confound the mare!” exclaimed his Serene Highness
-in a burst of displeasure. “If the mare can’t go, all you
-have to do is to go to our Burgher Sachtleben and borrow
-one of his horses.”</p>
-
-<p>“Dear me, your Honour, he won’t let us have it. This
-is just the busiest time for carting manure, and it’s no wonder
-he can’t spare his team.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do as I bid you, Rand; we are sovereign lord.”</p>
-
-<p>And Rand went, and Sachtleben gave him his old stiff
-bay horse to harness on the resplendent state chariot.</p>
-
-<p>Jochen Boenhas pulled up before the door with his gilt
-coach, three lackeys jumped up behind one after the other,
-the two runners floated along the street; Rand sat on the
-box, and his Serene Highness and sister Christel sat inside
-the coach.</p>
-
-<p>“Where to?” asked Jochen Boenhas.</p>
-
-<p>“Straight ahead,” said Rand; “over beyond Stargard, up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>
-to our boundary-line; but don’t for the life of you drive
-over the line, for we are only going to travel through our
-own domain.”</p>
-
-<p>And Jochen Boenhas drove through Stargard and through
-Frieland up to the Prussian line, and pulled up his horses:
-“Whoa, whoa I say! Here we are at the end!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp68" id="i_165" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_165.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“SACHTLEBEN GAVE HIM HIS OLD STIFF BAY HORSE.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>And his Serene Highness gave orders to drive to the
-east over Woldegk; and when they had passed Woldegk
-and reached Wolfshagen, Jochen Coachman turned around
-once more on his old horse and said, “Rand, here’s the
-end again, we can’t go any further.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span></p>
-
-<p>And Princess Christel, who had overheard it, said:
-“Your Grace, this is the first time I have travelled
-through our estates; I’d never have thought it was such
-a short way.”</p>
-
-<p>“Christel,” said his Serene Highness, “you’re a woman,
-and you don’t know much. What do you suppose? There’s
-a good lot more toward noon. Feldberg and Mirow and
-Fürstenberg, all that is in my domain, and then beyond
-Mirow there’s quite a lengthy bit stretching into our
-neighbour Schwerin’s possessions that makes a good
-show.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nay, your Highness,” said Rand, who had overheard,
-“it doesn’t make much of a show, for the sand just pours
-into a person’s eyes, as <i>I</i> ought to know, for I was born
-and bred there.”</p>
-
-<p>His Serene Highness very nearly lost his temper at Rand’s
-foolish twaddle. He leaned far out of the gilt coach, and
-called out: “Jochen Boenhas, we’ll go home now! And
-to-morrow we’ll take the Fürstenberg hemlock grove and
-Mirow.”</p>
-
-<p>And it was done exactly as his Serene Highness had
-said, for he was a high-spirited prince, and when he had
-once said, “I say!” then sure enough he <i>had</i> said it.</p>
-
-<p>So the next day they went beyond Fürstenberg to the
-hemlock grove, and when Rand turned to look into the
-carriage and say, “Your Grace, here we are at the end
-again,” then his Serenity looked sinister, and shouted
-“Wesenbarg!” to console himself; but in spite of Wesenbarg,
-he came back to Neu-Strelitz in an utterly discontented
-spirit, and Rand and sister Christel stood in the hall
-together, shaking their heads and saying, “Where will this
-end?”</p>
-
-<p>And the evening and the morning were the third day,
-and his Highness did not reign during that night, for he
-slept. The bitterns kept silent, and all the ghosts that had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>
-of late taken to haunting the palace at Neu-Strelitz had
-their off-night.</p>
-
-<p>The next morning the <i>valet de chambre</i> came down to
-the princess and said: “Thank goodness! we have slept
-in peace for one night, and reigned right along without let
-or hindrance, and to-day we are going to travel westward,
-toward <span class="err" title="original: Neu-Bradenburg">Neu-Brandenburg</span>, and that finishes up the whole
-business.”</p>
-
-<p>And Princess Christel said, “The Lord be praised!
-Then he will have peace; he is too ambitious a prince.”
-And three hours later they passed the inn near Neu-Brandenburg,
-and Sachtleben’s old bay horse, having got to
-the end of his rope, one of the innkeeper’s horses was
-hitched up, and his Serene Highness walked up and down
-before the door, and looked across the sunny lake over to
-the woods of Broda, and said to his sister Christel in High
-German—for the innkeeper’s wife stood near, and he must
-needs show her his Serenity at its finest—</p>
-
-<p>“What say you, Princess? Shall we build our Belvedere
-on the other side of this pleasant lake?”</p>
-
-<p>Princess Christel was about to reply, but Rand intercepted
-her and said—</p>
-
-<p>“Your Highness is always right; of course we’ll have a
-Bellmandur! All people of degree have a Bellmandur
-except us!”</p>
-
-<p>And his Serene Highness said: “Rand is right.” And
-so they drove into Neu-Brandenburg.</p>
-
-<p>Having reached this pearl of his possessions, and coming
-up in fine style on the market-place, he called out of the
-gilt carriage: “Rand, tell Jochen Boenhas to stop!”
-And with that he and his sister Christel descended from
-the coach, and Rand from the box, and the three lackeys
-from their seat, and the two runners stood panting.</p>
-
-<p>And then said his Serene Highness Adolf Friedrich IV.:
-“This suits us right well, and here we will build our palace!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span></p>
-
-<p>Her Highness Sister Christel opened her mouth to say
-something, but his Highness the liege lord took the words
-out of her mouth and said: “Princess Christel, what more
-would your Grace have? Are you still critical? Look
-yonder.” For the time being he was surrounded by a
-circle of his most devoted subjects, and though these were
-mostly small street urchins, he felt constrained thereby to
-speak High German to his sister. “Look, yonder, by the
-side of the mansion-house, we’ll put it up.”</p>
-
-<p>And Princess Christel said: “<i>Cela me convient!</i> And I
-hope your Highness will have a couple of wings put on,
-and I will go and live in one of them.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s just what you won’t do, Sister Christel,” said
-his most Serene Highness, turning on his heel. “Don’t
-make plans, and then they won’t miscarry! I don’t want
-any womankind with their chit-chat and nonsense in this
-new palace. I’ve had a deal too much of that at Neu-Strelitz.
-Rand!” he called; “go and find the two Burgomasters;
-and you,” he said to two of the footmen, “go and
-cite the aldermen; tell them <i>I</i> wish to consult them, <i>I</i>,
-their liege lord. You are to stay here,” he said to the
-third lackey; “it will not do to strip ourselves entirely of
-attendance.”</p>
-
-<p>And thereupon he walked up and down with his sister,
-and did not so much as notice that she made a wry face
-and protruded her nether-lip; and the lackey trotted behind
-them.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Fritz Reuter</i> (1810-1874).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="HIS_SERENITY_AND_THE_THUNDER-STORM"><i>HIS SERENITY AND THE THUNDER-STORM.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">O</span>N his way to school the Konrektor felt so cheery and
-good-natured that his pupils might have expected to
-have a good day. As he stepped into the schoolroom he
-had the pleasant surprise of seeing a complete Roman battle
-before him, which his precious boys were carrying out in
-honour of Livy, and probably to give him an unexpected
-pleasure, and the noise they made was as natural as if the
-room were full of genuine Roman soldiers and genuine
-horses.</p>
-
-<p>It was all very well for the boys, but it was not quite
-befitting the quiet which is supposed to reign in a schoolroom;
-nor was it the best means of allaying the flushed
-spirits of a schoolmaster who had his own private troubles
-to contend with. The Herr Konrektor sat down on his
-platform, opened his Homer, and when the noise had somewhat
-subsided, he gave vent to his ire: “Now listen, you
-dunces; first learn something, then you’ll be better able to
-play heroes! Last time we stopped just before the splendid
-passage where Hector said good-bye to his dear wife
-Andromache, and she exhorts him—</p>
-
-<p>“Δαιμόνιε, says she; φθισει σε τὸ σὸν μένος, οὐδ’ἐλεαιρεις, says
-she; but it’s hardly worth while to read anything so fine to you
-scatterbrained dolts. παῑδά τε νηπίαχον, says she; και ἒμ ἂμμορον,
-ἣ τάχα χὴρη, says she. Karl Wendt, confound you, if you don’t stop
-talking I’ll stand you up by my platform, and then it’ll be <i>my</i> turn to
-have a talk with you. σεῦ ἔσομαι, says she, τὰχα γάρ σε κατακτανέουσιν
-Ἀχαιοὶ πάντες ἐρορμηφθέντες, says she; ὲμοὶ δέ κε κέρδιον εἴη σεῦ
-ἀραμαρτοῦση, and so on, says she.—Langnickel, you begin.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span></p>
-
-<p>And Langnickel cleared his throat once or twice and
-nudged his neighbours right and left with his elbows, as
-much as to say: “Fellows, help me; I’m in an awful fix.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” said the Konrektor, “how long before you’re ready?
-Δαιμόνιε—what does that mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Oh, thou monster!</i>” said <span class="err" title="original: Langwickel">Langnickel</span>, looking at the
-Herr Konrektor very doubtfully to see what he would say.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s more likely you are a monster. The next, go on,”
-said the Konrektor, pointing to Karl Siemsen. “Well,
-Karl! Eh? the word’s not easy; how do we call a fellow
-that can do more than ordinary folks?”</p>
-
-<p>“A Tausendsasa,” said Karl.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I never! We may say that for a joke, but do you
-suppose Hector’s wife felt much like joking just then? Nay,
-she is scolding him. You madcap you, says she, bridle
-your pluck! says she. Have you no pity for your little
-boy—she means her little Astyanax that she has on her
-arm,—and for poor luckless me, says she, who will soon
-enough be a widow? For how long will it be? says she,
-before the Archæans pitch in on you and kill you, and
-what is left to me but sorrow when I sit here without you?
-says she. Well, here I am translating the whole of Homer
-for you. Go ahead, Karl Siemsen!” he exclaimed, then
-the door was opened, and one of his Serene Highness’s
-lackeys came in.</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Konrektor, his Highness wants to know if you
-think we’ll get a thunder-storm to-day?”</p>
-
-<p>Now this was the last straw for the Konrektor’s patience.
-He turned upon the fellow in a mad choler and shouted,
-“Yes! Go and tell his Highness we’ll get seven.”</p>
-
-<p>“Seven?” asked the lackey, looking blank and walking
-toward the door, and the Konrektor called after him:
-“Yes, seven! Tell him we’ll get seven!”</p>
-
-<p>The first lesson was over and the second had begun; it
-was Latin, and there was Virgil’s <i>Bucolica</i> to translate.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span></p>
-
-<p>The Herr Konrektor had in the meantime taken a look
-at the weather, and now he was quite sure there was a storm
-coming up; his pupils had taken a look at his face, and
-they also knew for sure that there was a storm brewing;
-they were only doubtful where the lightning would strike.
-This question was about to be solved in a drastic manner
-when his Serenity sent the lackey once more:</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Konrektor, his Highness wants you to come to
-him at once. The storm is coming mighty fast.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tell his Highness,” cried the Konrektor in a rage, and
-was about to add, “to remember me to his grandmother,”
-but he recalled himself and said: “First I must be through
-school, then I’ll come.”</p>
-
-<p>At the palace things had gone on queerly enough for
-a while; his most Serene Highness walked up and down in
-his apartments with pale cheeks, as if he were the walking
-ghost of the deceased Henry of the Three Oaks; the footmen
-stood in the corners and along the walls silent and
-fearful like the stage mimes when Dame Macbeth walks
-about washing her hands; the gentleman of the bed-chamber,
-Von Knüppelsdörp, carefully bolted all the
-windows and doors, and looked as if he were gagged.</p>
-
-<p>“Rand,” called his Highness in an undertone, “smoke
-is a good conductor. Are all the fires put out?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, your Highness, all except the kitchen—you know
-the dinner has to be cooked.”</p>
-
-<p>“We shall not dine to-day. Tell them to throw water on
-the fire.”</p>
-
-<p>“Dear me, your Highness,” Rand began, for fast-days
-were not much to his taste, not even when there was a
-thunder-storm.</p>
-
-<p>“Do you hear what I say?” cried his Highness with
-such alacrity that he frightened himself.</p>
-
-<p>“And there shall be no bells pulled; the sound is a good
-conductor,” he added in a lower tone.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span></p>
-
-<p>“The sound, your Highness?”</p>
-
-<p>“Confound you, fool! I—I say! It <i>might</i> draw, you
-know!” whispered his Highness snappishly.</p>
-
-<p>“Humph,” said Rand to himself, looking out of the
-window with one eye, “we can afford to be cross; the storm
-isn’t high yet; later on we’ll be more polite.”</p>
-
-<p>“Goodness me,” said his Highness nervously, “why
-doesn’t the Konrektor come?”</p>
-
-<p>“Good gracious! what good is the Konrektor? He’s
-no more able to——”</p>
-
-<p>“He <i>must</i> be able to, he <i>must</i>! Here, get these buckles
-off from my shoes; metal is a good conductor. Is all in
-order in my cabinet?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” growled Rand, looking at the floor while trying to
-take the buckles off, “we’ve put up all the mummery, and
-the carpenter says it looks for all the world like a birdcage.”</p>
-
-<p>“Gracious goodness! Did you hear that? Did you
-hear it, I say? It’s here already! Where can the Konrektor
-be? I am going into my cabinet. Send for the
-Konrektor. Don’t go so fast! Don’t go so fast! The
-lightning will catch. Oh, goodness me!” he said quite
-tremulously; “and here I am calling so loud!”</p>
-
-<p>The lackey met the Konrektor on the market-place, the
-door was opened, just a trifle, according to the Duke’s
-orders, so that there should be no draught, and the Konrektor
-crowded in with his fox-tail and the rest of it. He now
-entered his Highness’s cabinet, and the sight he saw put
-him at first quite out of countenance. For a moment he
-stood bewildered in the door, and stared into the cabinet
-open-mouthed, then all at once he broke into a perfect roar
-of laughter.</p>
-
-<p>“What the devil have we here? Begging your Grace’s
-pardon! But what in the name of goodness can this
-mean?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp62" id="i_171" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_171.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“HE BROKE INTO A PERFECT
-ROAR OF LAUGHTER.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>And Rand
-laughed too, and
-said, “Ay, you
-may well say so!”</p>
-
-<p>I don’t know but what I should have forgotten the dutiful
-respect I owed his most Serene Highness if I had been
-called upon to behold what the Konrektor beheld. Right
-in the middle of the room there was a small platform resting
-on the necks of bottles, on top of that a sort of pavilion
-made of glass that came down to the floor, and roofed over
-with a light-blue silk tent, that looked like a parasol for
-fifteen persons, and in this remarkable affair sat his Highness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>
-in his innocent terror, clothed in a yellow silk dressing-gown,
-with a green silk nightcap on his head, and with a
-pair of shoes on his feet varnished with red sealing-wax.
-He looked for all the world like a handsome canary with a
-green top-knot, that had been put in a cage to sing a sweet
-song; and he might have begun singing at any moment if
-only he had felt less down at the mouth.</p>
-
-<p>In his quality as sovereign lord he would doubtless have
-sung a right testy little song at the Konrektor for laughing,
-the more so as he had a crow to pick with him anyway for
-his matrimonial intentions,<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> had not a sudden stroke of
-lightning interrupted his Highness’s sing-song. “What
-nonsense are you——?” and now came the lightning, and
-he clapped his silk handkerchief over his eyes—“Mercy
-on us!” and he peeped out from behind the handkerchief,
-listening for the thunder, and when it came he stopped up
-his ears and exclaimed again, “Mercy on us!”</p>
-
-<p>The Konrektor had stopped laughing by this time, and
-examined the cage from before and behind, and his Highness
-looked at him in an uncertain way, and asked at last—</p>
-
-<p>“Well, what do you say? Will it do? Glass, silk, and”—here
-he raised one of his legs—“here is sealing-wax; and
-I have had everything taken out that’s made of metal.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ay,” said the Konrektor, “I dare say it’s all right,
-your Highness; what man can do has been done; but,
-begging your pardon, the gold ducal crown that’s up on top
-of the throne you are sitting on you’ve forgotten.”</p>
-
-<p>“Didn’t I tell you so? Didn’t I tell you so? That ass,
-Rand. Oh, mercy on us!” for it lightened again.</p>
-
-<p>“Sheep-headed fool, you! bring another chair! I don’t
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>want any ducal honours. When there’s such a storm as this
-I’m no more than another man—mercy on us!” and he held
-his hands over his ears. “Eh, Konrektor?”</p>
-
-<p>The Konrektor said he believed it; but the throne with
-the crown on it might stay there; they could wrap up the
-crown in a silk handkerchief.</p>
-
-<p>After that his Highness ordered Rand to go out and
-take a look at the weather. Rand did it, and came back:
-“The storm is over, but there’s another one all ready to
-burst, and it looks mighty grim.”</p>
-
-<p>“Rand, bring another chair in my weather-temple for the
-Konrektor.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, your Highness,” said the Konrektor, “I don’t need
-to come in.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ay, but <i>I</i> need you in here; but you can’t come in like
-that; you’ll drag in the lightning. Rand, another silk
-dressing-gown and nightcap, and the red-waxed shoes!”</p>
-
-<p>Resistance was useless, he had to give in; and in a short
-time he stood there in a black nightcap and a bright orange
-bed-gown and red shoes; and he stood like a sorcerer in
-olden times, who might be supposed to have changed an
-unfortunate prince into a canary-bird, and put him into a
-glass-box, where it was likely he would have to stay for ever,
-for naught but the sweet kiss of a beauteous fairy upon his
-beak could ransom him, and his Highness was possessed
-of a holy horror of kissing, and there was no beauteous fairy
-near, for Rand, who was the only other person about, could
-not possibly figure as such.</p>
-
-<p>When the old sorcerer sat beside his enchanted victim,
-his Highness ordered Rand out, because the exhalations of
-so many persons might draw the lightning, but told him to
-put his head in at the door from time to time and give the
-news concerning the weather; and Rand was quite willing,
-for now he could run over to the baker’s wife and have some
-talk.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span></p>
-
-<p>“What say you, Konrektor? Is it safe now?” asked his
-Highness.</p>
-
-<p>“Ay, so far as I can see.”</p>
-
-<p>“But is it <i>quite</i> safe?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, your Highness, what man can do has been done;
-but what are mortal measures against the will of our Lord
-God?”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s what I say,” exclaimed his Highness; “that
-fool the carpenter was to have made it round, and he made
-it square. Corners always draw lightning.”</p>
-
-<p>“What good would that do? If our Lord God sees best
-He can blow away the whole of Neu-Brandenburg in a
-moment. Think of Sodom and Gomorrah.”</p>
-
-<p>“Goodness gracious! Yes, I know it, I——” Just
-here Rand put his head in at the door: “There’s another
-one coming, and the baker’s wife says——”</p>
-
-<p>“Fool, I don’t want to know what that impertinent
-woman says.”</p>
-
-<p>Rand retired. “That woman has a lot to say; she says
-too—goodness gracious! she says you are going to get
-married, Konrektor. But I forbid you. I’ll never set eyes
-on you again. I’d banish you from court.”</p>
-
-<p>“I esteem your Highness as my liege lord,” said the
-Konrektor, quietly getting up, “but whether I marry or
-don’t marry ought to be all the same to you, and I wont
-brook interference from any man. If you want to banish
-me from court you can do it, that’s in your power; but I can
-also go of my own free will, that’s in my power. I have the
-honour of bidding you farewell.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mercy on us! Do stay here; you’re the only comfort I
-have. Oh, goodness gracious!”</p>
-
-<p>Here Rand put his head in at the door.</p>
-
-<p>“Your Highness, this one is going to be pretty bad; the
-storm can’t come across the lake, and the baker’s wife
-says——”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span></p>
-
-<p>“You hare-brained dolt, I don’t want to know what she
-says. Shut the door and bolt it on the outside, so that he
-can’t get out.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, your Highness,” said the Konrektor, taking off
-his sorcerer’s habit and donning his own honest coat, “you
-can hold me by force—that was a terrific clap!”</p>
-
-<p>“Mercy on us!—yes, that it was. Do come in here
-again.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nay, your Highness, I’m not afraid of lightning,” said
-the staunch old fellow, and gave his liege lord a quiet look.
-“I fear God, my judge, when I stand before Him as a
-miserable sinner, but I do not fear God, my father, for He
-knows what is good for me, and if He calls me to Himself
-by a stroke of lightning and without any suffering, then I
-know that it was an act of mercy, and I thank Him for it.”</p>
-
-<p>There was another awful clap, lightning and thunder
-falling almost simultaneously, and his Serene Highness
-screamed aloud.</p>
-
-<p>“Konrektor, I’ll grant ye a favour. What shall it be?”</p>
-
-<p>“I need only God’s favour; I don’t need any man’s
-favour, for all he may be a prince. Princely favour is the
-crutch that lame justice leans on, and when princes are
-gracious they are either trying to make up for past injustice
-and reap thanks for it, or they are about to commit some
-new injustice.”</p>
-
-<p>“You’re growing mighty bold. I’ll show you what princely
-disfavour is!” shouted his Highness in sore ire, for there
-had been no thunder for some time. “I’ll show you——”</p>
-
-<p>Then Rand put in his head. “Your Highness, the
-lightning struck a poplar on the embankment, the baker’s
-wife says, and there’s another storm coming up.”</p>
-
-<p>“Konrektor, do think up something that will help us!”</p>
-
-<p>“How can <i>I</i> think up anything, your Highness. At such
-times when our Lord God is nearer than at others it is best
-to examine ourselves closely, and think of all the wrong one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>
-has done, and firmly resolve to undo it—that will give us
-courage and comfort.”</p>
-
-<p>“There is no man I have ever wronged,” exclaimed his
-Highness hastily; but the storm was drawing nigh, and
-he covered his face with his handkerchief once more, and
-cried, “Goodness gracious!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, your Highness, I imagine it’s much the same with
-you as it is with the rest of us; or is that no wrong when
-you imprison your courier Halsband for no fault of his?”</p>
-
-<p>“My courier? He is my servant; how can a prince—mercy
-on us!—how can a prince be in the wrong against
-his own servant?” And again there was a flash of lightning,
-and his Highness disappeared behind his handkerchief.
-“Mercy on us! Let him go! Let the fellow go!”</p>
-
-<p>“Ay, your Highness, that’s all very good; but you must
-take the disgrace off from his shoulders as well.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mercy on us!” cried his Highness, stopping his ears
-because of the thunder. “I’m to ask his pardon, am I?
-No, no! The fellow——”</p>
-
-<p>Rand appeared. “This will be a good one.”</p>
-
-<p>“Run and let Halsband out of prison,” said his Highness.</p>
-
-<p>“And,” said the Konrektor, “give me pen and ink, and
-some paper.”</p>
-
-<p>“Here is paper and pen; but our ink is dried up. We’re
-not much given to writing, except when the cashier is here.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s a fact,” said his Highness. “Mercy on us!
-Go and buy some ink immediately.” The ink came, and
-the Konrektor wrote.</p>
-
-<p>“Good gracious,” said his Highness to himself, “how
-can the fellow write in this storm!”</p>
-
-<p>The Konrektor got him to sign it.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t you feel a vast deal better,” he said, “after this
-good deed?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit of it,” said his Highness; “first the storm
-must be over.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span></p>
-
-<p>The sky was clearing. Rand’s head appeared again.
-“Now it’s all over; the baker’s wife says we had seven
-storms.”</p>
-
-<p>His Highness took breath once more, and said to himself,
-“Seven storms! And he knew it before, the insolent
-old fellow, with his confounded speeches! What becomes
-of the deference due to the prince from his subject, I’d like
-to know? But I can’t do without him; he’s too well posted
-about the weather.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Fritz Reuter.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_LIEUTENANTS_DINNER"><i>THE LIEUTENANT’S DINNER.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">C</span>OMING home to his bachelor quarters one day, Lieutenant
-Karfunkelstein found a note of invitation upon
-his library table. As he took it up and examined it, his
-chagrin was almost too great for his dignified self-possession.
-Frau von Diamant was known all over the town for her good
-dinners, and he, poor fellow, had orders to march in an
-hour. Moreover, to aggravate matters, the widow was the
-lady of his heart. He would have liked nothing better than
-to spend an hour or two in her company, and have the
-added gratification of dining most sumptuously. But there
-was no help for it. Love and hunger must both be set aside
-as a malignant fate had decreed. He must march, and no
-amount of railing at destiny would improve matters, however
-it might ease his much-enduring temper. So he called
-his man Joching, and entrusted to him his painful message
-of regrets to the widow. “And Joching, are you sure you
-understand?” “To be sure I do, sir!” replied good
-Joching dutifully, departing therewith on his errand. It
-occurred to the lieutenant then that before his march he
-might partake of a meal to be sent from his hotel. Opening<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>
-the window hastily, he called after the departing Joching,
-“When you come back bring my dinner with you.”</p>
-
-<p>And Joching reached the lady’s house. “Well, Joching,
-what have you to tell me?” “Best compliments from my
-master to your gracious ladyship. And as for the Herr
-Lieutenant, he cannot come to dine to-day, for in little more
-than an hour the troop must march to Woldegk.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, what a shame. I’m sorely grieved!”</p>
-
-<p>And Joching still did not move from the spot; he stood
-twisting his cap and wringing it between his knuckles.
-The lady asks him why he does not go. “The dinner,”
-says he; “I was to take it with me.” Well, she was a right
-jolly woman who did not take a joke amiss, and quickly
-said, “Stay, in a minute you shall have it.” And in less
-time than it takes to tell it, she had a portly basket filled and
-placed on Joching Pacsel’s arm. He trotted off therewith,
-nothing loath. The Herr Lieutenant was waiting for
-him, and sat down with a surly look. “Well,” he said,
-“now for it. The everlasting pork and mutton, I suppose.
-Ah, to be invited to dine most exquisitely with a superb
-woman, and then to be condemned to eat hotel stuff!”
-But soon his humour took another turn. The dinner truly
-was not bad, what with meats and pastry, ices and dainties,
-not to mention a bottle of champagne. It was a dinner fit
-for any man, and most especially for a man about to march
-and meet pale Death. With vain surmises did he try to
-solve the riddle of this unlooked-for excellence, and turning
-to his servant, asked if there were a wedding or a christening
-at his wonted eating-house. “Nay,” says good Joching,
-“that’s from her.” “Where did you say you got it?”
-asked the Herr Lieutenant. “I got it from Frau von
-Diamant, sir, as you bade me do.” It was worth something
-to hear the Herr Lieutenant then; to hear him rave and
-tear, and swear that honest Joching was the greatest ass that
-ever walked upon two legs. As time goes on, however,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>
-even a lieutenant’s rage blows over, and he, being quite
-cooled down by this time, drew his purse, and taking three
-thalers therefrom, spoke thus to Joching, “Here are three
-thalers; do you see them, lout? Take the money and go at
-once to the nearest pastry-cook’s. Do you understand me,
-fool?” “Yes, Herr Lieutenant,” said honest Joching.
-“And there you buy a tart, the finest that the shop holds,
-and then you go and take it to the house where I was
-asked to dine. Tell Madam Diamant that you are noted
-for a fool, and would she kindly overlook your error; and if
-the tart but taste one-half as good to her as did her roast
-and confects to me, ’twill give me pleasure more than I
-can tell. Now, do you understand it, stupid fellow?”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp90" id="i_179" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_179.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“SHE HAD A PORTLY BASKET FILLED.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Ay, sir,” said Joching Pacsel.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span></p>
-
-<p>And Joching went and brought the tart to the lady.
-“Best compliments from the Herr Lieutenant to the
-gracious Frau von Diamant——”</p>
-
-<p>“What is it you bring me now?”</p>
-
-<p>“And says he’s long been noted for a fool——”</p>
-
-<p>“Tut, tut,” the lady said, “we know all that.”</p>
-
-<p>“So please forgive him then, and here’s a tart, and eating
-it will give you pleasure more than you can tell.”</p>
-
-<p>Madam, after recovering from a hearty laugh, then said:
-“Well, tell your master we will talk about that at some
-future time, and here is for your trouble.”</p>
-
-<p>She laid a thaler in his hand, and hoped that now he
-would leave her in peace. But no, Joching stood quite
-still, and held his hand up to his face, and gave a furtive
-peep at it again and again, as if this were the first and only
-thaler he had ever seen.</p>
-
-<p>“Why do you stand there? What is it you are waiting
-for?” the lady asked, at last struck by his manner. “Your
-difficulties are all straightened now.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nay,” said good Joching doubtfully, “this is but one;
-the tart alone cost three.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Fritz Reuter.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_HIGHER_ALTRUISM"><i>THE HIGHER ALTRUISM.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin">“<span class="dropcap">G</span>OOD morning to you, apothecary. Tell me now, do
-you know of aught that’s good for headache day?”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp58" id="i_181" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_181.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“SMELL OF THIS BOTTLE AS HARD AS E’ER YOU CAN.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“My lad, it is a sore complaint that; one of the worst of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>
-ills that flesh is heir to. Well, sit you down a bit. Are
-you from the manor?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir; I’m one of the farm-servants there.”</p>
-
-<p>“And do the headache days come often?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, no, but when they do they come bad.”</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll soon manage them, my lad. Come here now,
-and first shut both your eyes. There, that is right. Now,
-quick; smell of this bottle as hard as e’er you can.”</p>
-
-<p>The fellow did precisely as he said. First shut his eyes
-and smelled right heartily of what was in the bottle; and
-with a heavy thud he fell from off his chair. And as he
-was beginning to come to, says the apothecary, “Now,
-my lad, tell me is your headache day now gone?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, sir, it’s not of me that I was talking. It’s our
-young lady has her headache day.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Fritz Reuter.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="MY_PICTURES7"><i>MY PICTURES.</i><a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">S</span>O I took to painting, and particularly to making portraits.
-My old friend G—— was the first to have his turn. I
-sketched him from the right and from the left, from the
-front and from the back, in lead-pencil and in black crayon,
-and then in colours, once with a sky-blue background, once
-with clouds wrapped about him, and once in a lovely pink
-light, as if the sun were setting. That piece made me a lot
-of trouble, and when it was done it didn’t look like it.</p>
-
-<p>When G. was used up it was the Herr Inspector’s turn.
-The likeness was to be for his betrothed, so I had to
-idealise him a bit, and put a pleasant and winning expression
-on him. It was hard enough, but I fetched it at last. As
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>good luck would have it, he had a long nose, which is
-always a piece of luck for a beginner. I seized him by that,
-and when I had it, all the rest
-had to come after whether it
-would or no. But how about
-the pleasantness and the
-winning expression? I
-managed that beautifully; I
-screwed up his eyes a bit,
-puffed out his cheeks in
-one place, pulled up the
-corners of his mouth a
-quarter of an inch, and
-made a couple of regular
-little folds there, so that it
-looked like a button-hole
-that a careful tailor has
-fastened well at the right
-and left.</p>
-
-<div class="figright illowp52" id="i_183" style="max-width: 25em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_183.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“AS GOOD LUCK WOULD HAVE IT,
-HE HAD A LONG NOSE.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The portrait brought me much honour. In the delight
-of his heart the Inspector showed it to my comrades, and
-now they all wanted to be painted. With all sorts of
-devices we wheedled the Inspector into letting one or two
-of my friends come in to me. My painter’s work-shop was
-as good as any other; the light came from above, and it
-was the coolest north-light a painter could wish to have.
-Besides, I had an advantage over and above my colleagues
-in the art: the people that sat to me were used to sitting
-still, and could stand it for any length of time, and when I
-shoved my table up close upon them, and G. moved his
-chair to within half a foot of theirs, they sat as in a vice,
-and there was no escaping; they had to bear it.</p>
-
-<p>Here I’ll have to confess that during this time I sinned
-more than once against the image of God; I painted faces
-that never were, and never could be, and I painted them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>
-with colours that don’t occur anywhere else in life. The
-black-headed ones I managed to do to my satisfaction, but
-when a flaxen-head happened along then it was pretty bad.
-I had got the habit—more’s the pity—of shading flaxen
-hair with green, and as I was given to working over the
-face pretty freely with sienna, my flaxen-haired portraits
-seen at a little distance looked for all the world like a
-pine-apple, especially when it so happened that there was
-a green coat below.</p>
-
-<p>My pictures were mostly sent to old fathers and mothers,
-or sisters and brothers, for their birthday or for Christmas;
-and if any of these good folks should be alive now, I
-will take this opportunity of asking their forgiveness if I
-gave them a fright for the holidays about the looks of their
-relatives. I know that my old father wrote me, when I
-sent him my own portrait, which was very like, that it gave
-him a heart-sinking to see how horribly I had changed.</p>
-
-<p>Be that as it may, it gave us the opportunity of visiting
-each other, and though D. did not take kindly to this
-innovation, and threw a wet blanket over our enterprise
-whenever he could, he always relented a little after a fresh
-pound of tobacco; and when I caught him helping himself
-from the box of cigars that a good friend in Lübeck had
-sent to my friend G., and when the Major in person
-wanted to be painted by me, then his severity disappeared,
-and he walked up and down the long corridor like a
-cherubim that has put his flaming sword into the sheath
-for fear he might scorch his wing-feathers.</p>
-
-<p>Painting the portrait of the Major was the crown of my
-artistic activity at M. I was invited to leave my cell and
-betake myself to the Inspector’s room, for here the great
-feat was to be accomplished. I came with all of my artistic
-belongings. I had mounted a sheet that had a remarkably
-fine greenish tint, and all my pastels were sharp; but as I
-stepped into the room I stood aghast, for my fine skylight<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>
-that I had grown accustomed to was missing—the room had
-a large natural window. I began by taking the Major
-around into all the corners to find the right light, but it
-was all wrong until we tied the blanket from off the
-Inspector’s bed to the lower part of the window.</p>
-
-<p>Unfortunately the Major had flaxen hair and no eyebrows,
-and I, poor fellow, had a way of always beginning with the
-eyebrows. What now? At other times I would daub in a
-pair of eyebrows first and then hitch on the nose, long or
-short, as it might happen to be. But what now? He had
-no eyebrows, and I had nothing to begin on, and his nose
-was, from an artist’s point of view, but so-so at best. I had
-measured all the proportions, but there seemed to be no
-way of getting out of my difficulty. I must needs begin,
-and I must needs have something <i>hairy</i> to begin on. I was
-too completely wedded to the habit, so I began with the
-moustache.</p>
-
-<p>I never regretted it; and if one of my colleagues in the
-trade should ever find himself in a similar fix he may confidently
-follow my example, for it was not long before the
-Inspector, who was looking over my shoulder all the time,
-said that it was going to be very like, and the man was
-something of a connoisseur, and had trustworthy opinions on
-the subject, for he had often watched me, and had been
-educated up to the point by my pictures.</p>
-
-<p>In a short time the face was all done, very handsome too,
-only with a peculiar green light, but it may be that was in the
-paper. Now came the uniform, blue with a red collar, and
-then the gilt epaulets and the bright buttons. Any one who
-has never tried his hand at that will find it no easy job, I can
-tell him. That was the way I felt. I had French blue and
-chrome yellow in my box, and I was in for it. Having read
-somewhere or other, “The accessories of a portrait should
-be treated with a certain sketchy cleverness,” I acted
-accordingly. Sketchy enough it was, but as far as the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>
-cleverness was concerned I got stuck; for when I was
-through with it they both said, the Inspector and the
-Major, that it was no good. The French blue for the coat
-might possibly do, but the epaulets and the buttons looked
-as if they hadn’t been polished up for seven years; and as
-for the collar, they said it was no major’s collar, but an
-ordinary Prussian postmaster’s collar. I was dreadfully put
-out, of course, but it was true; it did look sort of yellowish.
-I must have been cheated with the vermilion; it was
-unadulterated red lead, and I had been at the shadows
-again with that confounded sienna.</p>
-
-<p>But I had learned enough of the art not to let them snub
-me, and so I said I would take the picture with me, and in
-a day or two we would talk about it again. And then I
-tried one kind of light after another, and polished up the
-Herr Major’s epaulets and buttons until G. was moved
-to pity and told me they were bright enough. But that
-collar! To this hour, when I see one of those collars of
-the Prussian infantry, I remember my sins. It wasn’t right,
-and it wouldn’t come right! At last an accident put me
-on the right track; G.’s canary spattered a drop of his
-water down upon the collar, and on the spot where it fell it
-immediately turned a bright scarlet. If I could get a kind
-of varnish over it to make it look like that, I said to myself.
-But no, varnish is too oily; it might make it look like a
-grease spot. How would gum arabic do? But I didn’t
-happen to have any handy. I mused and mused, and at
-last I hit upon sugar. That might do. I melted a couple
-of lumps of sugar in a little water, and began cautiously
-testing it along the edges. Beautiful! I struck out boldly,
-and it wasn’t long before the collar would have passed
-muster for a first-rate Prussian soldier’s collar.</p>
-
-<p>G. said, to be sure, that the collar was too bright for the
-rest of the picture, but what did G. know about painting?
-I stood my major on the table, went to bed, and lay looking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>
-and looking at him until it struck nine and the sentinel
-shouted, “Lights out!” I shouldn’t wonder if Raphael
-looked at his Madonna for a long time when she was done,
-but I don’t believe that he was as much in love with her as
-I was with the Herr Major. I lay awake for ever so long.
-I couldn’t sleep for delight. A Prussian officer in full
-uniform; that is something to be proud of, gentlemen!
-At last I fell asleep, and slept far into the next day.</p>
-
-<p>And when I woke up—ye gods, what did I see! G.
-had not acted as a friend by me. He might have hindered
-it. Thousands of flies were eating up the Herr Major’s
-collar, and there were little black specks in my highest
-lights.</p>
-
-<p>That’s what I call a misfortune. And what now? There
-was nothing for it but to varnish it up again and keep off
-the flies so long as I had it on my hands. I got rid of it
-as soon as I could. But what the Herr Major’s gracious
-lady said about the likeness, and whether the Herr Major
-hung it up in his room to remember me by, I have not
-heard to this day. So much I know, I was in his and the
-Inspector’s good graces after this, and that was a good thing
-not only for me but for all of us.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Fritz Reuter.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="LISZT_EXPECTED_AT_AN_EVENING_PARTY"><i>LISZT EXPECTED AT AN EVENING PARTY.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T is enough to say that Liszt had come. The whole town
-spoke of him and of nothing else.... Not only was
-it considered an inevitable requisite for a person of culture
-to have heard at least one of his concerts, but for those of
-musical proclivity it was a question of life and death to have
-seen the <i>virtuoso</i> at their own house. A <i>salon</i> was greatly
-in danger of losing its painfully acquired reputation if Liszt
-had not honoured it with a visit. Much higher than the
-musical treat, which was easily attainable for two thalers,
-stood the consciousness of being able to say at the proper
-moment, with apparent nonchalance, but with the blessed
-assurance of crushing a less fortunate rival: “Do you know,
-my dear, Liszt was with us on Thursday? We had only a
-few friends to meet him. He played the Erlkönig!” Thereupon
-your rival would go home, lie down on the sofa, and
-have ice and cologne applied to her throbbing forehead.</p>
-
-<p>When the excitement in town had reached its height I
-found, one evening after coming home exhausted by a round
-of lessons to untalented beginners, an invitation from Frau
-Medicinalräthin Pfeffermünze. She asked me to put in an
-appearance at her <i>salon</i> that very evening at eight o’clock;
-something very unusual must have occurred. Her instrumental
-and vocal clients were in the habit of assembling on
-a Saturday, once a fortnight; this was evidently an extra
-under difficulties. We had never before been asked so late.</p>
-
-<p>The note bore signs of haste; Frederick the Great and
-Napoleon had granted themselves more time to sign the
-orders of cabinet than had the Frau Medicinalräthin. I
-pitched into my dress-coat head over heels, for there was not
-a moment to spare, and hastened to the Charlotten Strasse.</p>
-
-<p>The first storey was illuminated with an unreasonable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>
-profusion of oil and wax. A gentle shiver passed over my
-back; in the little reception-room, the inviolable sanctuary
-of the Medicinalrath in the eyes of young and giddy
-musicians, glittered the lights of a chandelier. The hall
-door stood wide open with that philosophically resigned
-hospitality which in general confines itself to funerals with
-four horses. At such supreme moments the lesser laws of
-life become void, and each sympathetic soul, who would
-never be asked to a place at the family table, is made
-welcome.</p>
-
-<p>“Heavens!” I exclaimed in a whispered monologue, “it
-cannot be that the Medicinalrath has died an unexpected
-death!” The absurdity of the supposition immediately
-became apparent, for, passing through the reception-room,
-the head of the house appeared before me in person, at the
-right of the gilded mirror, surrounded by satellites, and
-saluted me graciously with a mild wave of his hand. As
-long as we could remember he had not condescended to
-receive any ordinary musicians, such as we were personally,
-for we were never invited to the higher esoteric <i>fêtes</i>. To
-make his presence more emphatically imposing, he had
-adorned himself with three or four little badges of honour
-instead of wearing merely the ribbons belonging thereto.</p>
-
-<p>What had occurred? What was about to occur?</p>
-
-<p>The Medicinalrath was to me an unapproachable entity.
-I dared not ask him. Etiquette demanded that I should
-confine myself to replying if he should address me. His
-lady might be looked upon as more condescending, but to-day
-I should have to forego any polite advances. Like the
-vestal High Priestess in Spontini’s opera, she stood in the
-centre of a group of maidens festively arrayed. Man, at any
-other time a much-sought-for article, had evidently fallen
-in price. The young gentlemen, even the boldest lions of
-society, stood close together, and did not venture above a
-whisper.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span></p>
-
-<p>What had occurred? What was about to occur?</p>
-
-<p>My vague forebodings became certainty as I heard a
-pale and criminally lean gentleman, one notorious for his
-festive odes, say to his neighbour: “He is coming! You
-will see the godlike youth face to face.” The person
-addressed like the contrite Brahmin stared at the tip of his
-nose, and preserved a worshipful silence. “I breakfasted
-with him yesterday. A most delightful companion! The
-very picture of unpretentious simplicity,” continued the
-other. Ah, could he but breakfast with him every day, life
-had looked brighter to him!</p>
-
-<p>Among the bards near by a wild state of excitement
-made itself felt. Their leader distributed printed leaflets
-among them, and the poet stepped nearer to designate
-a certain passage in the third stanza which required a
-decided crescendo. Just then the Frau Medicinalräthin
-came rustling into the circle.</p>
-
-<p>“Would it not be better,” she said, smiling benignly,
-but struggling with a nervous tremor, “if the chorus were
-to retire into the adjoining room, so as to have the
-music come from a greater distance?”</p>
-
-<p>“Frau Medicinalräthin is right,” exclaimed the poet
-encouragingly, urging the youths of Berlin into the next
-room. “The chant should impress him as coming from
-another, purer world. Then in the third and last stanzas
-the angels descend and greet the genius here below as
-a brother. Carry out my suggestions, gentlemen, and go
-into the other room.”</p>
-
-<p>The chorus would greatly have preferred to be present
-from beginning to end, after the fashion of its antique
-prototypes in Sophocles and Euripides, but there was
-nothing for it but to yield. It took a covered position,
-attentively re-read the melodious lyric made to fit a well-known
-tune, and cleared its throat.</p>
-
-<p>The clock on the mantel struck nine; the Medicinalrath<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>
-still stood sentinel at the right of the mirror, conversing
-with the aristocratic element. In the background preparations
-for a sacrificial offering of tea seemed to be going on,
-but no one ventured to begin the solemn ceremony. My
-conjecture was that the hostess feared thereby to offend the
-august spirit of the expected genius.</p>
-
-<p>It struck a quarter, it struck half-past—still no Liszt!—</p>
-
-<p>The Medicinalrath and his æsthetic wife moved nearer
-to the windows, and convulsively started every time a
-carriage passed near enough to give one reason to suspect
-it of an intention of stopping. The assembled guests had
-said everything they had to say, and the need of an impetus,
-physical or psychical, was making itself sadly felt.</p>
-
-<p>“We certainly cannot have tea served now. He may
-come at any moment. The effect would be quite lost!”
-whispered the Frau Medicinalräthin as her husband
-approached her, reminding her of the bodily needs of
-her guests.</p>
-
-<p>A general restlessness took possession of those assembled.
-“Punctuality is the politeness of kings, but not of
-geniuses!” a young lawyer, who was at other times
-the Aristophanes of these receptions, ventured to remark
-with some bitterness.</p>
-
-<p>“Liszt did not name the hour, I should say by way
-of vindication; he merely promised to come. You know
-that his time is tasked to the utmost. A king may
-seclude himself from his worshippers, but a <i>virtuoso</i> has
-not an hour of the day to call his own,” said the Medicinalrath,
-soothingly.</p>
-
-<p>A carriage came rattling wildly up to the door and stopped.
-“It is he!” cried an academic youth, whom the master of
-the house had stationed as a sentry at the first window.</p>
-
-<p>The moment was overwhelming. As fast as circumstances
-would permit the guests grouped picturesquely. The
-Medicinalrath took the centre at the right of the mirror;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>
-his lady, our gracious patroness, seized the white silk
-ribbons on which the ode had been printed in gilt letters.
-The chorus of priestesses arranged itself artistically about
-her; the chorus of Berlin youths began to sing in the
-adjoining room; we mutes sent greedy eyeshots to meet the
-expected.</p>
-
-<p>A nimble young man put his small, coal-black head
-through the door, and seemed undecided to whom to turn.</p>
-
-<p>“Pfeffermünze,” whispered an old gentleman to the
-Medicinalrath, “that is not Liszt!”</p>
-
-<p>“That is not the blond head of our Samson.
-Avaunt, venal slave!” muttered the manufacturer of
-festive odes. The black-headed little fellow was actually
-one of the secretaries of the genius sent out to calm the
-assembly on account of his late arrival; perhaps, also, if I
-rightly judge the much-enduring <i>virtuoso</i>, to ward off the
-boisterous ovations in store for him. The inhabitants of
-dangerously-situated Alpine villages erect plough-shaped
-stone walls as a security against avalanches; the mass of
-snow is disrupted, and falls powerless on either side.</p>
-
-<p>There was a universal disappointment; the chorus of
-youths was hushed with difficulty, the gilt-illumined ode was
-laid aside, the secretary was surrounded, and by way of
-reward for his good news that his master was following, he was
-made much of. The commotion was so turbulent that no
-one noticed the entrance of a slender young man, stooping
-perceptibly, with lank arms and long yellow hair, who had
-been peeled out of a magnificent sable greatcoat in the
-reception-room by a servant. But he did not escape the
-eagle eye of our patroness.</p>
-
-<p>“Mein Gott, Liszt!” she exclaimed in a broken voice,
-and then she sank into the arms of two robust alto singers,
-who, always on the alert for such unaccountable tricks of
-destiny, were ever at her side. There was a sympathetic
-movement among the guests, only the one most nearly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>
-concerned, the Medicinalrath, retaining a posture of stoic
-composure. The master of tone also did not seem quite
-inexperienced in the treatment of such misadventures. He
-rapidly approached the invalid, seized the right hand of the
-lady overcome by the magnitude of her feelings, ordered
-“things strengthening and refreshing,” like Mozart’s Don
-Ottavia, and raised her spirits with marvellous speed.</p>
-
-<p>So Liszt was come; but all the effects arranged for his
-reception had failed. But his tortured soul was not
-spared the ode. He was compelled to sit down between
-two ladies and listen to the song. Then the artistic hostess
-presented the silk ribbon. It was entwined about a fresh
-laurel wreath.</p>
-
-<p>During this offering of gratitude I had been making some
-remarks of condolence to the secretary. Since nightfall his
-liege lord had been visiting five families of distinction.
-The Erlkönig had been wrung from him at four places.
-The burden of pianoforte fame weighs heavy; at the
-thought the trials of teaching dwindled. Was the genius to
-escape the Erlkönig here? From out of the music-room
-the concert-grand loomed forth majestically like the heavy
-cannons in forts that are used to practise recruits.</p>
-
-<p>The illustrious one bore all of the trials inflicted upon
-him with rare firmness; he deported himself somewhat as a
-prince humouring a company of persons of little estate,
-permitted aspiring instrumentalists and singers, professionals
-and amateurs, to be presented, said something
-apt and encouraging to each, jested with the ladies in a
-courtly manner, and endured the aged with a philosophic
-resignation rare in one of his years. He escaped
-from tea, it probably having been urged upon him five
-times already. The whole company was intoxicated by
-the charm of his manner. More than twenty album-leaves
-had been clandestinely introduced by the ladies, and he
-wrote his name on each without a groan. I feared in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>
-secret that one of the fair Delilas might stealthily draw
-a pair of scissors out of her pocket and clutch the lion’s mane
-as a signal for the lurking envy which began to show signs
-of being abroad. But the god of the muses watched over
-his precious head; he kept his locks and his titanic
-strength, and he permitted himself to be persuaded to play.
-Counting by the programmes of previous concerts, and the
-receipts consequent upon the high price of admission, he
-magnanimous fellow played, at a modest estimate, for
-375 thalers.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp94" id="i_194" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_194.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“HIS APPRECIATIVE HOST AND HOSTESS EXERTED THEMSELVES TO GET
-HIM INTO HIS SABLE GREATCOAT.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The Frau Medicinalräthin would have given a great deal
-to induce him to finish the fourth hundred, and she did
-her very best to force the poor unfortunate to give her the
-Chromatic Gallop. It was not possible. Inexorable fate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>
-still had a <i>souper</i> in store with which the genius was to
-finish the day’s task. It became necessary to dismiss him.</p>
-
-<p>As he went all the guests escorted him to the ante-chamber,
-his appreciative host and hostess personally
-exerted themselves to get him into his sable greatcoat.
-Deep sorrow shone in the eyes of the Frau Medicinalräthin,
-perhaps at her inability to be able to induce the vocal
-youths of Berlin to prostrate themselves before him by way
-of a musical carpet to the master’s carriage.</p>
-
-<p>The reputation of her <i>salon</i> had been established for one
-generation.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>E. Kossak</i> (1814-1880).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_PRINCE"><i>A PRINCE
-IN DISGUISE.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp66" id="i_196" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_196.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“IN SHORT, IT WAS A LIVELY INNINGS.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">O</span>N a dismal November day a poor devil of a tailor was
-walking along the country-road to Goldach, a little
-wealthy town but a few miles from Seldwyla. The tailor
-carried nothing in his pocket but his thimble, which in lieu
-of coin he was incessantly twirling between his fingers; it
-was so cold that he was obliged to keep his hands in the
-pockets of his trousers, and his fingers began to ache
-smartly, what with this eternal twirling and twisting. He
-had lost his pay and his work at the same time, because<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>
-some head-tailor at Seldwyla had failed, and there was
-nothing for it but to take to the road. A couple of snow-flakes
-that had blown into his mouth were the only breakfast
-he had had, and there was as little prospect for any dinner.
-Begging was made difficult, ay, seemed quite out of the
-question; because over his black Sunday suit, which was the
-only one he had, he wore an ample dark grey mantle faced
-with black velvet, which gave its wearer a noble and
-romantic exterior, the more so as his long black hair and
-little moustache were well cared for, and he was the
-happy possessor of pale, regular features.</p>
-
-<p>Attire of the sort described had become a necessity to
-him, and he indulged in it with no evil or deceitful purpose;
-he was quite contented when he was not interfered with and
-left in peace to do his work, but he would sooner have
-starved than give up his mantle and Polish fur-cap, which he
-managed to wear with an inimitable grace.</p>
-
-<p>For this reason he could work only in good-sized towns,
-where he did not become too conspicuous; when on the
-road and without savings he was in a sorry enough plight.
-Did he approach a house, he was looked at with surprise
-and curiosity, and there was nothing farther from the
-thoughts of the inhabitants than that he would beg; so
-the words died on his lips, the more so as he was not a
-possessor of many words, and he became in truth a martyr
-of his mantle, and suffered hunger as dark and dismal as the
-latter’s velvet lining.</p>
-
-<p>As he was wearily ascending a rise of ground he came
-upon a new and comfortable carriage, which a gentleman’s
-coachman had fetched from Basle for his master, a foreign
-count who was awaiting it somewhere in Switzerland on an
-old estate he had bought or leased. The carriage was
-designed for travelling, and had all sorts of arrangements to
-hold luggage, so that it seemed to be heavily loaded,
-although it was empty. The coachman was walking by his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>
-horses on account of the steepness of the road. When he
-reached the top of the hill he got up on the box again, and
-asked the tailor if he would not have a ride; for it was
-beginning to rain, and he saw at a glance that the poor
-fellow was faintly and sorrowfully trudging along.</p>
-
-<p>He gratefully and humbly accepted the offer, whereupon
-the carriage took him at a rapid pace over the rest of the
-road, so that in one short hour they passed, with a hollow,
-thundering sound, through the town gate of Goldach.
-Before the best hotel, called Zur Wage, the elegant turnout
-stopped, and at once the groom pulled the bell
-violently, so that the wire nearly broke. Down came the
-host and his people and pulled open the carriage door;
-the children and neighbours came crowding about the
-splendid carriage, full of curiosity to see what kernel
-could be contained in this marvellous shell, and when
-the dumfounded tailor came forth in his mantle, pale
-and handsome, gazing pensively upon the ground, he
-seemed to them to be a mysterious prince or count at
-the very least. The space between the carriage and the
-door of the hotel was narrow, and the rest of the pavement
-pretty well blocked by the curious crowd. It may
-have been due to a certain lack of presence of mind, or
-possibly of courage, that he did not break through the
-rabble and simply go on his way; he did not, but
-weakly allowed himself to be escorted into the house
-and upstairs, and did not become fully conscious of his
-new and remarkable position until he found himself in
-a comfortable dining-room, and his portentous mantle
-was being officiously removed.</p>
-
-<p>“The gentleman wishes to dine?” said a voice. “Dinner
-will be served at once; it is nearly ready.”</p>
-
-<p>Without waiting for a reply the host rushed for the
-kitchen, and cried: “In the name of three devils! now
-we have nothing but beef and a mutton joint! I dare<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>
-not cut the partridge-pie, because that was ordered for
-the gentlemen coming this evening. <i>Isn’t</i> this a shame?
-The only day when we don’t expect any such person, and
-when there is nothing in the house, so fine a gentleman must
-turn up! And the coachman has a coat-of-arms on his
-buttons, and the carriage is good enough for a duke! And
-the young man is so grand that he doesn’t so much as open
-his mouth!”</p>
-
-<p>And the phlegmatic cook said: “Well, there is nothing to
-grumble about, sir. Of course he shall have the partridge-pie;
-he won’t eat it up! We’ll serve it on small plates
-for the gentlemen this evening. We can get out six
-platefuls!”</p>
-
-<p>“Six platefuls? You must forget that the gentlemen
-are accustomed to eat their fill at <i>my</i> hotel!” answered the
-host; but the cook looked unmoved, and continued: “And
-so they shall! We must send for half-a-dozen of cutlets;
-we need them for the stranger as it is; and what he leaves
-I’ll cut up into little squares and mix it in the pie. Just
-leave all that to me!”</p>
-
-<p>But the honest host said, with a serious mien, “Cook, I
-have told you before that such things cannot be in this town
-and in this house! I wish to be respectable and honourable,
-and can afford to be so.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ye saints!” cried the cook, at last getting somewhat
-excited, “if there is no help for it, one must do the best one
-can! Here are two snipes that I have bought from the
-hunter this minute; I’ll put them in the pie. A partridge
-pie adulterated with snipe will be good enough for your
-gluttons! And then there are some trout; the biggest I
-threw into the water as that remarkable carriage came to the
-door; and there is some soup in that little pan. So then we
-have fish, beef, cutlets with vegetables, the joint, and the
-pie. Just give me the keys now, so that I can get out the
-sweetmeats and the dessert! And, by the way, you might<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>
-do me the honour, sir, to entrust the key to me once for all,
-so that I wouldn’t have to run after you for it and get into
-awful straits.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good woman, you must not bear me a grudge for that.
-I promised my wife on her deathbed never to give the key
-out of my hands, so it’s a matter of principle, not of mistrust.
-Here are the cucumbers, and here are the cherries; here are
-the pears, and here the apricots; but this old, stale pastry
-cannot be used. Quick! send Lise to the pastry-cook’s to
-get fresh cakes, three dishes full, and if he has a good tart
-he may send it also.”</p>
-
-<p>“Dear me, sir! you can’t put all that on one gentleman’s
-bill. It will cost you more than it is worth!”</p>
-
-<p>“Never mind that. It’s all for the honour! It won’t kill
-me, and when a grand swell like that passes through our
-town he shall be able to say he dined well, though he was
-not expected, and it was in winter! I won’t have it said of
-me as they say of the hosts of Seldwyla, that they eat everything
-good themselves and leave the bones for their
-customers. Go ahead, then, all of you, and do your
-best!”</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>Without further delay he was asked to table, a chair was
-placed for him, and as the fragrant odour of the savoury soup,
-the like of which he had not smelled for many a day, robbed
-him completely of his will, he sat down in God’s name and
-at once dipped his heavy spoon into the golden brown
-liquid. In deep silence did he refresh his wearied spirits,
-and he was waited upon in respectfully hushed awe.</p>
-
-<p>When he had emptied his plate, and the host saw how he
-had relished it, he encouraged him politely to have another
-spoonful; it would do him good, the weather being so
-inclement. Now the trout was served adorned with greens,
-and the host helped him to a generous piece. But the
-tailor, tormented by anxiety, did not venture in his shyness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>
-to boldly use his knife, but coyly and shamefacedly dabbed
-at it with his fork. The cook, who was watching behind
-the door to see the grand gentleman, noticed it, and she
-said to her subordinates, “Praised be our Lord Jesus
-Christ! There is one who knows how to eat a fine fish, as
-he should; he does not saw the delicate thing with his
-knife as if he were butchering a calf. That is a person of
-quality. I’d swear to that if it were not wicked! And how
-handsome and sad he is! There isn’t a doubt of it, he
-is in love with some grand lady whom they won’t let him
-have. Ah yes, grand people have their troubles as well as
-others!”</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile, the host seeing that his guest left his glass
-untouched, said deferentially, “My table wine is not to
-your honour’s taste. Permit me to bring you a glass of
-good Bordeaux, which I can greatly recommend.”</p>
-
-<p>And then and there did the tailor commit his first
-spontaneous fault by obediently saying yes instead of no;
-and thereupon did the landlord of the “Woge” betake himself
-in person to his cellar to pick out a choice bottle; for
-he was greatly concerned to have it said that there was
-something first-class to be had in the place. When his
-guest, suffering under the torments of an evil conscience,
-ventured only to sip faint-heartedly of the contents of his
-glass, the host ran exulting into the kitchen, smacked his
-tongue, and cried: “The devil take me, there’s one to the
-manner born; there’s a judge of good wine for you. He
-takes it on his tongue as one would lay a ducat on the gold
-scales!”</p>
-
-<p>So dinner took its course, very slowly indeed, for the poor
-tailor ate and drank very coyly and undecidedly; and the
-host, to give him time, left everything on the table for
-longer than ordinary. For all that, what the guest had
-eaten up to this time was not worth speaking of; but now
-his hunger, which was constantly being tempted in so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>
-dangerous a manner, began to conquer his terror, and when
-the partridge-pie appeared the mood of the tailor suddenly
-changed, and one fixed thought began to master him.
-“Things are as they are,” he said to himself, warmed and
-incited by a new glass of wine. “I were a fool now if I
-should bear the brunt of the coming shame and persecution
-without having eaten my fill for it! So look to it while it
-is time. This is likely to be the last dish; I will devote
-myself to this, come what may! What I once have in
-my stomach no king can rob me of!”</p>
-
-<p>No sooner said than done. With the boldness of despair
-he attacked the savoury pie, with no thought of stopping,
-so that in less than five minutes it was half gone, and the
-cause of the gentlemen who had ordered it was sadly in
-want of support. Meat, mushrooms, balls, crust, and top
-he swallowed without distinction, only anxious to bag it all
-before a cruel destiny should overtake him. He drank his
-wine in a hearty draught, and put enormous bits of bread
-into his mouth; in short, it was a lively innings, as when
-before a storm the hay from the near meadow is cast into
-the barn with a pitch-fork. Again the host ran to the
-kitchen and cried: “Look, he is eating up the pie, while he
-scarcely touched the roast! And the Bordeaux he drinks
-by glassfuls!”</p>
-
-<p>“Let him,” said the cook. “He knows a partridge when
-he sees it! If he were a common fellow, he would have
-gorged on the roast!”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s what I say,” remarked the host; “it doesn’t look
-very genteel; but I have often seen generals and the high
-clergy eat so!”</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile the coachman had had his horses fed, had
-eaten a substantial meal himself in the servants’ room, and
-as he was in haste, he had ordered his horses to be
-harnessed again. The menials could not resist asking him,
-before it was too late, who his master was and what was his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>
-name. The coachman, a jolly and sly fellow, said, “Has
-he not told you himself?”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” they said; and he replied, “It is no wonder. He
-doesn’t have much to say from morning till night. Well, he
-is Count Strapinsky! He is going to stay here all day,—perhaps
-longer, for he told me to take the carriage home.”</p>
-
-<p>He perpetrated this vicious joke to take revenge on the
-tailor, who had, as he thought, without giving him a word
-of thanks for his kindness, gone into the hotel to play the
-false <i>rôle</i> of a gentleman. Carrying his waggishness still
-further, he got up on his box without so much as asking
-what there was to pay for himself and his horses, cracked
-his whip, and drove out of town, no one interfering, for
-it was all put down on the bill of our friend the tailor.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Gottfried Keller</i> (1815-1887).
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_DISREPUTABLE_SAINT"><i>A DISREPUTABLE SAINT.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">A</span>BOUT the beginning of the eighth century there lived
-at Alexandria an eccentric monk called Vitalis, who
-had set himself the special task of luring away the lost
-souls of women from the path of sin, and restoring them
-to virtue. But his methods were so singular, and the
-infatuation with which he untiringly followed his aim was
-mixed with such remarkable self-renunciation and hypocrisy,
-that the world has scarcely seen his like again.</p>
-
-<p>In his cap he carried about with him a small silver case
-containing a parchment scroll with the names of those
-to be converted. This he took out again and again to
-add some new-discovered suspicious name to the list, or
-to count over those he already had, and to decide which
-one of their owners should be the next to be regenerated.</p>
-
-<p>As a matter of fact, his reputation was of the worst. For<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>
-while in secret he touched the heart of many a lost one
-with his burning words of exhortation and the sweet
-whisperings of his fervid prayers, and was the means of
-leading them into virtuous ways, in public he gave
-himself the air of being a lascivious, sinful monk, gaily
-paddling in the pool of the world, and making his cowl
-a flag of shame.</p>
-
-<p>Finding himself at dusk of evening in respectable company,
-he would suddenly exclaim, “Ah, what am I thinking
-of? I had well-nigh forgotten that brown-eyed Doris. My
-little friend is awaiting me! The deuce! I must begone
-at once, lest she should pout!”</p>
-
-<p>Returning at dawn to his cell, he would cast himself
-down before the Mother of God, to whose honour and
-glory alone he undertook these adventures and bore the
-world’s reproaches; and if he had been successful in
-leading back one lamb that had gone astray, and placing
-it safe in the same holy monastery, he thought himself
-more blessed in the sight of the heavenly queen than
-if he had converted a thousand heathens. For this was
-pre-eminently to his taste, to bear the martyrdom of appearing
-before the world as a libertine, while our purest Lady in
-Heaven well knew that he had not so much as touched a
-woman’s hand, and that he wore an invisible crown of white
-roses upon his reviled head.</p>
-
-<p>Once he heard of a particularly alluring young person,
-whose beauty and unusual charms had wrought much
-mischief and even bloodshed, as a noble and ferocious
-warrior kept guard at her door, making short work of
-any one who made bold to enter into dispute with him.
-Vitalis resolved to attack this hell and to conquer it. He
-walked straight to the disreputable house, and at the door
-encountered the soldier attired in bright scarlet, and walking
-haughtily up and down, spear in hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Get thee gone, holy father!” he cried scornfully at the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>
-sight of pious Vitalis. “How canst thou venture to crawl
-about my lion’s den? Heaven is for thee, the world is for
-us!”</p>
-
-<p>“Heaven and earth and all that is therein,” cried Vitalis,
-“belong to the Lord and to his jolly servants! Begone,
-thou gaudy fool, and let me go where it pleases me!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp77" id="i_205" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_205.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“THE MONK PARRIED THE BLOW.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Enraged, the warrior raised the shaft of his spear to bring
-it down upon the monk’s head, but the latter pulled out an
-olive branch from beneath his habit, parried the blow, and
-hit the ruffian’s forehead with such force as nearly to rob
-him of his senses, whereupon the valiant ecclesiastic gave
-him some smart raps under his nose until the soldier,
-wrathful and cursing, made room for him.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span></p>
-
-<p>Vitalis entered the house as a conqueror. At the head of
-a narrow staircase stood a woman holding a lamp, and
-listening to the noise and shouting. She was above the
-ordinary height, and firmly built, with handsome though
-insolent features, surrounded by rich wild waves of reddish
-hair, like a lion’s mane.</p>
-
-<p>Scornfully she looked down upon the approaching monk,
-and said, “Where are you going?” “To see you, my
-dove!” he replied. “Have you never heard of the amorous
-monk Vitalis?” But she answered brusquely, barricading
-the staircase, “Have you any money, monk?” Taken
-aback, he replied, “Monks do not carry money!” “Then
-begone,” she cried, “or I will have you flogged out of the
-house with firebrands!”</p>
-
-<p>Vitalis scratched his head at this new dilemma; the
-creatures he had converted hitherto had of course not
-thought of demanding the wages of sin, and the unconverted
-were content to punish him for wasted time with
-venomous words. But here he was excluded from the field
-on which to begin his pious deed; and still there was a
-fascination in taming this reddish-golden daughter of Satan,
-because large and beautiful specimens of humanity again
-and again betray the senses into imputing a higher human
-value to them than they possess. Feeling about his habit,
-he came across the little silver case, which was decorated
-with an amethyst of some value. “I have nothing but
-this,” he said. She took the case, examined it closely,
-and then allowed him to enter. True to his custom, he
-went into a corner of her room and prayed in a loud
-voice.</p>
-
-<p>The woman, thinking he was about to begin his worldly
-enterprise with a Christian introduction of prayer, burst into
-uproarious laughter, and sat down to look at him, being
-vastly amused by his gesticulations. Soon, however, she
-tired of the sport, and walking up to him she put her strong<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>
-white arms about him, and pressed his tonsured head so
-vigorously against her bosom, that he was in danger of
-choking, and began to blow and sputter as if he were in
-purgatory. He beat about him like a young horse at the
-blacksmith’s until he had freed himself from the hellish
-embrace. He then took the long rope that was tied about
-his body, and seized the woman to tie her hands upon her
-back. It was a hard struggle before he bound her and
-threw her down with a heavy thud, returning thereupon to
-his corner and continuing his prayers as if nothing had
-happened.</p>
-
-<p>The fettered lioness threw herself about angrily and
-uttered a hundred curses; then she grew more quiet, while
-the monk did not cease praying, preaching, and exhorting,
-and toward morning sighs became audible, followed by
-a sound of bitter sobbing. In short, when the sun rose
-she lay as a penitent Magdalene at his feet, and bathed
-the hem of his garment with tears. With serene benignity
-Vitalis laid his hand upon her head, and promised to return
-the following night to tell her in which monastery her
-contrite soul might find refuge.</p>
-
-<p>What was his horror, coming back at the appointed hour,
-to find the door fast locked, and the woman looking out of
-the window in gay and stately attire.</p>
-
-<p>“What wilt thou, priest?” she called down, and greatly
-surprised, he replied in an undertone, “What means this,
-my lamb? Remove this sinful frippery and let me in, that
-I may prepare thee for repentance!” “Thou would’st
-come in to me, wicked monk?” she said smiling, as if she
-had misunderstood him. “Have you money, or money’s
-worth, with you?” Vitalis gazed at her open-mouthed,
-then he shook the door despairingly, but it remained
-locked, and the woman was gone from the window.</p>
-
-<p>The jibes and sneers of the passers-by drove the
-apparently corrupt and shameless monk away from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>
-house; but his one thought was to conquer the Evil One,
-who had taken possession of this woman by every means
-within his power.</p>
-
-<p>Occupied by this thought he entered a church, and instead
-of praying, he pondered ways and means of accomplishing
-his purpose. His eyes fell upon a chest containing
-gifts of charity, and no sooner was the church empty than
-he knocked it open with his powerful fist, and gathering up
-his gown, threw the contents of the chest, consisting of a
-quantity of small silver coins, into it, and with more than a
-lover’s speed, hastened to the house of the sinner.</p>
-
-<p>He threw the stolen money upon the table and said,
-“Sufficeth it for this night?” Silently she counted it over,
-and saying, “It suffices!” she put it aside.</p>
-
-<p>The two stood facing each other with peculiar sensations.
-Repressing a laugh, she looked as if she knew of nothing,
-and the monk measured her with uncertain and sorrowful
-glances, not knowing how to call her to account. But as
-she was about to put her hand in his lustrous black beard,
-the storm of his spiritual indignation broke forth. Angrily
-he struck her hand, then threw her down with a mighty effort,
-and kneeling upon her and holding her hands, untouched
-by her charms, he began to plead with her soul until her
-stubbornness seemed to melt.</p>
-
-<p>The storm of his eloquent indignation changed to a soft
-and transcendent compassion, and his words flowed soothingly,
-like a mild spring-breath over the broken ice of this heart.</p>
-
-<p>With a lighter heart than the sweetest of earthly happiness
-could have brought him he hastened away, not to get an
-hour’s sleep upon his hard couch, but to pray for the poor
-repentant soul at the altar of the virgin far into the early
-dawn; for he vowed not to close his eyes in sleep until
-the stray lamb was safe behind the protecting walls of a
-monastery.</p>
-
-<p>As the morning advanced he set out once more for her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>
-house; at the same time he saw the ferocious warrior
-advancing upon him from the other end of the street. He
-was half intoxicated, and after a night of dissipation was on
-his way to win the harlot once more.</p>
-
-<p>Vitalis was nearer to the fatal door, and he dexterously
-leaped to reach it, when the soldier threw his spear at him,
-which, in the twinkling of an eye, was lodged with quivering
-shaft in the door, close by the monk’s head. But ere it
-ceased to quiver the monk wrenched it out of the wood with
-all his might, turning it against the warrior, who was advancing
-with his sword drawn, and quick as lightning he pierced
-his breast; the man dropped down dead, and at the same
-moment Vitalis was arrested by a troop of spearmen returning
-from a night-watch, who bound him and led him away
-to prison.</p>
-
-<p>For many days he was kept there, but at the end of his
-trial he was dismissed free of punishment, because he had
-killed the man in self-defence. At the same time there
-was the stain of manslaughter upon him, and every one
-exclaimed that it was high time to deprive him of his
-religious orders. But Bishop John, who was at that time
-the ecclesiastical head of Alexandria, must have had an
-inkling of the true facts of the case; certain it is he
-refused to expel the ill-reputed monk, and gave orders
-to let him go his own eccentric way for a while.</p>
-
-<p>Without delay he sped to his converted sinner, who
-in the meantime had again vacillated, and did not give
-the sorrowful Vitalis entrance until he had again possessed
-himself of some valuable and brought it to her. She
-repented and suffered herself to be converted for the
-third time, and soon after for the fourth and fifth times,
-as she found these conversions more profitable than anything
-else, and, moreover, the evil spirit within her took
-a fiendish delight in hoodwinking the poor priest with
-changing arts and inventions.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span></p>
-
-<p>The latter was now a martyr in a deeper sense. The
-more he was deceived, the more firmly did he cling to his
-aim, and it seemed to him as if his own salvation depended
-upon the conversion of this particular person. He was now
-a murderer, church-robber, and thief; but he would not
-for the world have given up one iota of his shameful
-reputation, and if at times this weighed heavy upon his
-heart he devoted himself with renewed ardour to keep
-up this discreditable exterior with ribald words. For this
-specialty of martyrdom was his free choice. He grew
-pale and thin over it, and began to creep about like a
-shadow on the wall, but always with laughing lips.</p>
-
-<p>Opposite the house of trial lived a wealthy Greek
-merchant, who had an only daughter named Jole. Being
-at liberty to do whatever she pleased, she was often at
-a loss how to spend her day. Her father read Plato, and
-when he was tired of that, composed neat xenia about the
-antique cameos, of which he had collected a great number.
-Jole, when she had laid aside her lyre, knew no outlet for
-her vivid thoughts, and restlessly gazed into the heavens,
-and into the distance, wherever there was an opening.</p>
-
-<p>So she discovered the doings of the monk upon the
-street, and through her slave, who was on confidential
-terms with the slave of the wicked courtesan, she heard the
-truth about him. She meditated for a while, growing more
-and more dissatisfied, while her sympathy for the monk
-increased, though it was intermingled with an odd feeling
-of indignation.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly she resolved that if the Virgin Mary had not
-enough common sense to lead the wandering one back upon
-a respectable road, she herself would undertake to do so.
-She thereupon went to her father, complained bitterly
-about the improper neighbourhood, and begged him to
-remove the objectionable person.</p>
-
-<p>A certain sum being offered for the house, the courtesan<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>
-left it that very hour, while the old Greek returned to his
-Plato and gave the matter no second thought.</p>
-
-<p>Not so did Jole. She had everything removed from the
-little house which bore any relation to its former occupant,
-and when it had been swept and cleaned it was perfumed
-with incense, and clouds of fragrant smoke poured from the
-windows.</p>
-
-<p>Then she had the empty room furnished with nought but
-a rug, a potted rose-bush, and a lamp, and when her father,
-who was wont to retire at sunset, had gone to sleep, she
-went over there herself, with a wreath of roses on her head,
-and sat down on the rug, while two trusty servants guarded
-the outside door.</p>
-
-<p>They concealed themselves as Vitalis approached, and
-allowed him to enter. What was his surprise as he stepped
-into the room to find it emptied of all the tawdry finery of
-the red lioness, and instead of the latter a slender and
-graceful little person sitting upon the rug, with the little
-rose-bush opposite!</p>
-
-<p>“Where is the lost one that dwelt here?” he cried, looking
-about him, and then fixing his eyes upon the lovely apparition
-before him.</p>
-
-<p>“She has gone into the desert,” replied Jole, without
-looking up, “where she will lead a hermit’s life, and do
-penance.”</p>
-
-<p>“Praised be the Lord and His gracious Mother!” cried
-Vitalis, folding his hands with pious cheerfulness, while it
-seemed as if a stone rolled from his heart; at the same time
-he gave a curious glance at the girl and her wreath of roses,
-and said—</p>
-
-<p>“And who art thou? From whence comest thou, and
-what is thy purpose?”</p>
-
-<p>Sweet Jole lowered her dark eyes still more, while deep
-blushes covered her face, for she was greatly ashamed of the
-wicked things she was about to say to this man.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span></p>
-
-<p>“I am an orphan,” she said, “and this rug, this lamp,
-and this rose-bush is all that is left me of my possessions.
-So I have resolved to begin life where the other woman left
-it who was here before me!”</p>
-
-<p>“The deuce you will!” cried the monk, beating his hands
-together. “Alack-a-day, how busy Satan is! And this
-harmless little creature tells me the thing as dryly as if I were
-not the monk Vitalis! Well, tell me again, pussy, what is it
-you will do?”</p>
-
-<p>“I will give my life to love and serve men so long as this
-rose blooms!” she said, pointing lightly to the bush; but
-she could scarcely speak the words for shame, and cowered
-down low upon the floor, and this natural shame served the
-rogue very well to convince the monk that here he had to
-do with an innocent child possessed of the devil. He
-stroked his beard with pleasure at having appeared upon the
-scene just at the nick of time, and said slowly, and with a
-twinkle of fun—</p>
-
-<p>“And then later, my dove?”</p>
-
-<p>“Then my poor soul will go to Hell, where beautiful
-Madam Venus is; or perhaps if I find a good preacher, I
-will go into a monastery and do penance!”</p>
-
-<p>“Better and better,” he cried. “As regards the preacher,
-he is here already, and stands before you, you black-eyed
-child of Hell! And the monastery is awaiting you like a
-mouse-trap, and I will see to it that you walk in there before
-sinning, do you hear? Before sinning, except for the laudable
-purpose which shall serve you to do penance on.
-And now,” he added in a serious tone, “down with the roses
-and listen to me!”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Jole, growing bolder, “I will listen first, and
-then see about taking down the roses. Having once overcome
-my feminine modesty, words do not suffice to hold me
-back before knowing sin, and without sin I shall know no
-repentance.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span></p>
-
-<p>Now Vitalis began the most beautiful sermon he had ever
-preached. The girl listened with a charming raptness, which
-in its turn influenced the choice of his words, the beauty
-and grace of the object to be converted imperceptibly calling
-forth a higher eloquence. But as she was not at all serious
-in the frivolous speeches she had made to him, she could not
-be very deeply impressed by his words; a sweet smile floated
-about her lips, and when he had finished, Jole said, “I am
-but half touched by your words, and cannot give up my
-project; I am too curious
-to know the joys of this
-world!”</p>
-<div>
- <img src="images/i_213first.jpg" width="354" height="193" class="splitr" alt="illustwo">
-<img src="images/i_213second.jpg" width="598" height="484" class="splitr" alt="illusone">
-<div class="caption rightcol">“NOW VITALIS BEGAN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SERMON HE HAD EVER PREACHED.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>
-  <img src="images/i_213.jpg" width="500" height="562" class="figcenterepub" alt="">
-</p>
-<p>It was the first time
-that his art of conversion
-had met with so complete
-a failure. With
-contemplative sighs he
-walked back and
-forth in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>
-room, and then glanced at the little candidate for perdition.
-The power of the Devil seemed to have made a strange
-compact here with the power of innocence.</p>
-
-<p>“I will not leave this room,” he cried at last, “until you
-repent!”</p>
-
-<p>“That would but make me more stubborn,” replied Jole.
-“I will ponder your words, and the coming night I will
-hear you again!”</p>
-
-<p>“So be it then!” cried Vitalis; whereupon he left her,
-and Jole slipped quietly back into her father’s house.</p>
-
-<p>She slept but a short time, and awaited the evening with
-impatience. She had seen what an ecstatic fire beamed
-within the eyes of the monk; she had seen how manly
-were his motions in spite of his ecclesiastical dress. When
-she thought of his self-renunciation, of the steadfastness
-with which he followed his chosen aim, she could not but
-wish that these good qualities might serve her own use
-and pleasure, in the shape of a loving and faithful husband.
-Hence it seemed her mission to make a good martyr into
-a better husband.</p>
-
-<p>The following night Vitalis was at his post betimes, and
-with undiminished ardour continued his exertions for her
-virtue. He was obliged to stand, except when he was
-kneeling in prayer. Jole, however, took her ease; she lay
-down upon the rug, folded her arms under her head, and
-watched the monk with eyes half-closed. Whenever she
-quite closed them Vitalis touched her with his foot to
-awake her. But this rough measure was always more
-gentle in the end than he intended, for no sooner did
-his foot approach the slender figure of the girl than it
-involuntarily slackened speed, and but softly touched her
-side, and, at the same time, a most wonderful sensation
-passed up the whole length of the tall monk—a sensation
-the remotest approach to which he had never experienced
-near any of the fair sinners he had had to do with.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span></p>
-
-<p>Toward morning an angelic smile flitted across her face,
-and she said: “I have listened attentively, and I now hate
-sin; the more so, because it is so hateful to you, and nothing
-can henceforth please me that displeases you!”</p>
-
-<p>“Is it true?” he said rapturously. “Have my efforts
-been crowned with success? Now, to make sure of you,
-come quick to the monastery!”</p>
-
-<p>“You misunderstand me,” replied Jole with a blush,
-fixing her eyes upon the ground; “I am in love with you.
-Now you must convert me of this new evil, and banish it;
-and I hope you will succeed!”</p>
-
-<p>Vitalis, without a word, turned and rushed out of the
-house. He ran out into the silvery grey morning, and
-considered whether he should leave this suspicious young
-person to her fate, or try to rid her of this last whim, which
-was the most fatal one of all, and, perhaps, not without
-danger to himself. An angry flush rose in his face at the
-latter thought; but then he remembered that the devil
-might have set this trap for him, and now was the time
-to flee. But supposing the poor little creature really
-meant well, and by a few vigorous words might be cured
-of this last unhealthy fancy? In short, Vitalis could arrive
-at no decision; the less so, because deep within his heart
-great waves had arisen and set his little ship of reason
-all a-rocking.</p>
-
-<p>He slipped into a church by the wayside, where a fine
-old marble statue of Juno, supplied with a gilt halo, had
-been made to do service as the Virgin Mary. Before this
-Mary he threw himself down, and ardently unfolded all his
-doubts, and begged his mistress to give him a sign. If she
-nodded her head he would finish the conversion; if she
-shook it, he would desist.</p>
-
-<p>The statue, however, left him in a state of cruel uncertainty
-and did neither the one nor the other. But as the pink
-glory of a passing cloud flitted across the marble, the face<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>
-appeared to smile most benignantly, perhaps it was that the
-ancient goddess, the protectress of married love and faith,
-declared her presence, or else that the new Queen of
-Heaven felt constrained to laugh at the plight in which her
-worshipper found himself.</p>
-
-<p>At the same time Jole’s father was walking under the
-cedars of his garden. He was lost in the contemplation of
-some new stones he had acquired. One was a beauteous
-amethyst, upon which Luna was pictured driving her chariot
-through the heavens, unaware that Cupid was catching
-a ride behind her, while little love-sprites flitting about her
-shouted out in Greek, “There’s a chap on behind!” A
-magnificent onyx had Minerva engraved upon it, with Cupid
-in her lap, polishing her breast-plate with his hand to see
-his image therein.</p>
-
-<p>These scenes tempted the old man to write some
-verses about them, and while he was choosing which
-to begin on, his little daughter Jole came into the garden.
-He showed her his treasures and explained them to
-her.</p>
-
-<p>She sighed deeply, and said: “Ah, if all these great
-Powers, Chastity, Wisdom, and Religion, cannot war with
-Love, how shall I?”</p>
-
-<p>These words took the old gentleman by surprise.
-“What is this I hear?” he said; “has the arrow of the
-all-powerful Eros touched you?”</p>
-
-<p>“It has pierced me,” she replied, “and if within another
-day I am not in the possession of the man I love, I shall
-die!”</p>
-
-<p>“Shall I then,” cried the old man, “take upon myself
-that most wretched of parental duties—shall I go and find
-the chosen one, the man, and bring him back by main force
-to the most precious of my possessions, and courteously ask
-him to take it for his own? Here is a pretty little woman,
-dear sir; I beg that you will not despise her! I should<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>
-greatly prefer to box your ears, but my daughter would
-die, and I must be polite!”</p>
-
-<p>“We are spared all that,” said Jole, “for if I have your
-permission I hope to get him to come and ask for my
-hand.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what if, not knowing him at all, he should prove
-to be a rascal and a good-for-nothing?”</p>
-
-<p>“Then you may turn him from your door! But he is a
-saint!”</p>
-
-<p>“Go, then, and leave me alone with the Muses!” said
-the good old man.</p>
-
-<p>Another Vitalis came up the steps that evening than had
-come down the morning before, though he himself least
-understood the change. The notorious monk and girl-converter
-did not even know the difference between the
-smile of a courtesan and that of an honest woman.</p>
-
-<p>As he entered the room it was richly decorated, and bore
-a homelike aspect. The delicate breath of flowers filling it
-was quite in keeping with a certain respectable worldliness;
-upon a snowy couch, the silk of which showed not a fold,
-sat Jole like a meditating angel. The folds of her dress
-were turbulent as a storm in a cup of milk, and though her
-beautiful white arms gleamed as she crossed them over her
-bosom, all those charms had an air of lawfulness which
-silenced the monk’s wonted eloquence.</p>
-
-<p>“You are surprised to find all this pomp and show here,”
-began Jole. “Know, then, that this is my farewell to the
-world and to the love which I have unfortunately conceived
-for you. You must help me to put it from me as far as lies
-in your power, and in the manner which I shall designate.
-When you speak to me in your present attire and in your
-clerical function I am unmoved, for a priest cannot convince
-me, who am of this world. A monk cannot cure me of love,
-as he knows not the passion, and is ignorant of that of
-which he speaks. If, then, it is your earnest wish to give<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>
-me peace and turn my heart toward heaven, go into yonder
-chamber, where worldly attire is awaiting you. Exchange
-your monkish cowl for the garb of a worldly man, and
-then return and partake of a small repast with me, during
-which you may bring all your wits and mental force into
-play to turn my heart away from you and set it toward
-heaven!”</p>
-
-<p>Vitalis considered for a moment; then he decided to
-parry the devil of this world with his own weapons, and
-concede to Jole’s proposal.</p>
-
-<p>He betook himself into the adjoining chamber, where
-servants were awaiting him with gorgeous apparel of linen
-and purple. No sooner had he donned them than he
-appeared to be a head taller, and with a noble bearing he
-walked back to Jole, who clapped her hands for joy.</p>
-
-<p>A miracle occurred then and there, for no sooner did he
-sit in worldly pomp by the side of this sweet woman than
-his immediate past seemed wafted away out of his brain,
-and he quite forgot his purpose. Instead of saying a single
-word he listened eagerly to Jole’s prattle, who had seized
-his hand and was now telling him her true story—viz., who
-she was and where she lived, and how it was her most
-ardent wish to make him abandon his eccentric mode of
-life and ask her father for her hand, and become a good
-and God-fearing husband. She said many other marvellous
-things in well-set words about a happy and virtuous love,
-adding with a sigh that she well knew how vain was her
-longing, and how she hoped he would convince her of the
-folly of it all as soon as he had refreshed himself at her
-table.</p>
-
-<p>Thereupon Jole mingled some wine in a bowl for the
-silent monk, and lovingly fed him with sweets, so that his
-mind wandered back to his childhood to the time when his
-mother tenderly cared for the little lad. He ate and drank,
-and then it seemed to him that he must needs rest as after
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>a time of sore distress, and thereupon his head fell toward
-the side where Jole sat, and he fell asleep.</p>
-
- <div class="figcenter illowp48" id="i_219" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_219.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“THEY DROVE HIM OUT OF THE MONASTERY.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>When he awoke he was alone. He jumped up hastily,
-terrified at the sight of his gorgeous attire. He sped
-through the house from top to floor to find his cowl, but
-there was no vestige of it to be seen, until he noticed a
-small courtyard, with a heap of coal and ashes, upon which
-lay a half-burned sleeve of his priestly garment.</p>
-
-<p>He put his head out into the street once or twice, and
-drew it back as soon as he saw any one approaching. At
-last he threw himself down upon the silken couch with as
-negligent an air as if he had never lain upon the hard bed
-of a monastery; then he jumped up, suddenly tore open the
-outside door, and with dignity stepped out into the open
-air.</p>
-
-<p>He did not look to the right nor to the left, but went
-straightway to his monastery, where it so happened that all
-the monks together with their prior had just decided to
-expel him out of their midst, because the measure of his
-sins was full, and he was a disgrace to the church. When
-they saw him approach in his pompous worldly attire that
-seemed the last straw to break the back of their Christian
-charity; they poured water on him and hooted him, and
-with crucifixes, brooms, forks, and soup ladles they drove
-him out of the monastery.</p>
-
-<p>Such infamous treatment would at another time have
-been the greatest triumph of his martyrdom. Now too he
-laughed silently, but it was in a different sense. Once more
-he walked about the wall of the town, his red coat fluttering
-in the wind; a glorious breeze blew across the glittering sea
-from Holy Land, but the monk’s heart was growing more
-and more worldly, and involuntarily he turned his steps
-back to the noisy streets of the town, sought out the house
-where Jole lived, and did her will.</p>
-
-<p>He now grew to be as excellent and complete a man of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>
-the world and husband as he had been a martyr. The
-church, hearing the true facts of the case, was inconsolable
-to have lost such a saint, and did all within her power to
-win the truant back to her bosom. But Jole held him fast,
-and said she thought he was well enough where he was.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Gottfried Keller.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="MILITARY_INSPECTION"><i>MILITARY INSPECTION.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE officers stood about the right wing of the battalion,
-two young lieutenants and—yes, it was he—my friend
-and patron in former times, the Premier-Lieutenant von
-Schwenkenberg. There was no mistaking him, he was
-quite the same; the endless stretch of neck, which made
-the low collar of his uniform look quite childish, the tall
-and lank figure with the formidable-looking sword at the
-hip, which almost grazed the ground, and was in constant
-collision with his heels. Now he went to meet the
-sergeant a few steps. Oh, I should have known him
-among thousands by his gait! He leaned forward a trifle,
-and swung from side to side as he stepped.</p>
-
-<p>“Be—sure—you—don’t—forget—Sergeant Möller,” said Lieutenant von
-Schwenkenberg,
-“that—we—are—to—have—an—artillery-drill—on—the—bastion—this—afternoon.
-Pick—out—the—weakest—of—the—men;
-a—bit—of—exercise—will—be—just—the—thing—for—them. Lieutenant
-Schwarz—will—have—the—goodness—to—take—charge—of—this matter.”</p>
-
-<p>Lieutenant Schwarz was a young second-lieutenant,
-whom, of course, I did not know. It was evident that
-he was fresh from the artillery school. His face still
-retained that indescribable expression of supreme astonishment
-with which young officers just entering practical<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>
-military life are wont to regard things. Everything about
-him was new—his uniform, his epaulettes, his way of dressing
-his hair, his beard; while Lieutenant von Schwenkenberg
-looked as if he had just passed through a hazardous
-winter campaign.</p>
-
-<p>Shyly I walked about the battalion and looked at the
-Captain, who was standing by a fine horse fully equipped
-for battle, which one of the soldiers was holding. The
-Captain’s was a short but very agile figure, never keeping the
-same position for two seconds at a time. Now he went
-tripping from the right side of the horse to the left, then
-darting behind it for a more thorough inspection.</p>
-
-<p>“The parade doesn’t agree with him,” he exclaimed,
-“doesn’t agree with him at all. But there’s no help for
-it. Misdemeanour must be followed up by punishment.
-Sergeant Möller, how often has Cæsar been to parade? If
-I am not mistaken, it was eight times. I want him to come
-four more times. Let’s have the dozen full, by all means.
-Confound him! We’ll teach him better manners than to
-get up on his hind legs and caper. All I could do to keep
-him from falling. Did I tell you all the details of the story,
-Lieutenant von Schwenkenberg?”</p>
-
-<p>“I—had—the—good—fortune—to—be—an—eye-witness,”
-leisurely remarked the lieutenant.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, presence of mind, presence of mind, there’s nothing
-like having presence of mind in an emergency. The deuce!
-the very last thing we’d want on the battle-field would be a
-nag that stumbles and falls.—Keep right on, Sergeant
-Möller,” he added, turning to the latter, who had stopped
-calling the roll to listen to the Captain’s speech, and looked
-up to his superior with unbounded reverence. “Keep right
-on; never mind me. I always take this time to examine
-not only the battalion within and without, but the barracks
-as well—yes, the barracks.” Saying these words, he had
-twice pranced round about the battalion, casting many a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>
-glance into an open door which, as the emerging smoke
-would indicate, marked the entrance to the regimental
-kitchen.</p>
-
-<p>“What is the story about the horse?” the young lieutenant
-asked his superior.</p>
-
-<p>The latter shrugged his shoulders gently to and fro, and
-then replied, “The—horse—behaved—rather—badly,—the—Herr—Captain—thought—best—to—chastise—him,—and
-when—the—horse—took—it—ill,—they—parted company,—you—see.
-As—a—well-deserved—punishment—Cæsar—is—to—come—to—parade—for—twelve—consecutive—days—saddled—and
-packed with—the—full—equipment—for—battle.”</p>
-
-<p>“Seems to me that is harder on the groom than it is on
-the horse.”</p>
-
-<p>“Does—it—strike—you—so?” remarked Lieutenant von
-Schwenkenberg with imperturbable tranquillity.</p>
-
-<p>Now the voice of the Captain was heard again. “Lieutenant
-Schwarz, will you have the goodness to look at this
-man of your column.” He had ordered a man in the left
-wing to turn around, and was standing close before him.
-“I have told you, no doubt, that it takes a practised eye;
-look closely at the man, will you? Well? What is it?
-What do you see that’s wrong about him?”</p>
-
-<p>The young officer inspected him carefully from all sides,
-but he was bound to confess, with a shrug of his shoulders,
-that he saw nothing unusual.</p>
-
-<p>The Captain smiled with evident satisfaction. Then he
-said in a gratified tone, “Ah yes, a practised eye is not a
-thing to be acquired in a day or two. Just look at the
-buttons on his jacket.”</p>
-
-<p>“They are not polished as brightly as they might be,” the
-young officer remarked timidly.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s not that, Lieutenant Schwarz. Ye saints, it’s not
-that,” replied the Captain, raising his left hand like a mason<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>
-holding a plumb-line. “Imagine a line drawn from the
-hook of his collar to the middle seam of his trousers. Do
-you discover nothing? Nothing whatever? Well, my dear
-Herr Lieutenant, it would really be expecting too much,
-altogether too much. All that will come to you in good
-time, no doubt. I have not served in the army for twenty-five
-years for nothing. Well now, I’ll tell you. The fourth
-button counting from the top is about half a line too far to
-the left. You think it is the tailor’s fault, do you? No, sir;
-I never make the tailor responsible for such things in my
-regiment. Saints preserve us! I always test them with a
-plumb-line. Tell that fellow to unbutton his jacket, and if
-you don’t find a <i>manœuvre de force</i> at the fourth button then
-I’m very much mistaken.”</p>
-
-<p>The cannoneer unbuttoned his jacket, and sure enough it
-was just as the Captain had said. Instead of being sewed
-on, the fourth button was fastened with a small stick, which
-set it slightly awry, and brought its owner under the ban of
-the penal code.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>F. W. Hackländer</i> (1816-1877).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_KING_OF_MACCAROONIA"><i>THE KING OF MACCAROONIA.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp69" id="i_225" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_225.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“WITH HORROR HE SEIZED THE STOCKING.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE King of Maccaroonia, who was just in the prime of
-life, and in fact had been there for some time past,
-arose one morning and sat himself down in his night attire
-upon a chair by the side of his bed. His Minister of State
-stood before him holding his stockings, one of which had a
-large hole in the heel. Although he carefully turned the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>
-stocking in such a way that the king should not perceive
-the hole, and although it was much more in the king’s line
-to have an eye for dainty boots than for well-mended stockings,
-the hole had not escaped his royal penetration. With
-horror he seized the stocking, put his fore-finger through
-the hole up to his knuckles, and then remarked with a
-sigh—</p>
-
-<p>“What good is there in being a king, so long as I have
-no queen! What think you of the project of taking a
-wife?”</p>
-
-<p>“That, your Majesty, is indeed a sublime idea,” replied
-the Minister; “an idea which I am confident I, your
-humble subject, should have made bold to conceive, had
-I not felt that your Majesty himself would deign to utter it
-this very day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Very well then!” answered the king; “but do you
-think it will be an easy matter for me to find just the
-right kind of a wife?”</p>
-
-<p>“Pooh!” said the Minister, “you’ll find a dozen!”</p>
-
-<p>“Do not forget that I am very fastidious. To please me,
-a princess must be beautiful and clever. And then there
-is another point that I would lay special stress on. You
-know how fond I am of ginger-nuts. In my whole kingdom
-there is not a person who knows how to bake them—that
-is, to bake them as they should be baked, not too hard and
-not too soft, but just nice and crisp. She must <i>partout</i>
-know how to bake ginger-nuts.”</p>
-
-<p>When the Minister heard this his heart fell. But he
-soon recovered, and replied: “A king like your Majesty
-will, without doubt, be able to find a princess who can
-bake ginger-nuts.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well then, we will look about us!” said the king; and
-that same day he set out accompanied by his Minister on
-a journey to such of his neighbours as had princesses to
-dispose of. But it so happened that only three princesses<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>
-were discovered whose beauty and cleverness were sufficient
-to satisfy the king, and none of the three could bake ginger-nuts.</p>
-
-<p>“I am sorry to say I can’t bake ginger-nuts,” said the
-first princess, in answer to the king’s question, “but I can
-bake delicious little almond-cakes. Wouldn’t those do?”</p>
-
-<p>“No!” replied the king, “nothing short of ginger-nuts
-will do!”</p>
-
-<p>The second princess snapped her fingers when he asked
-her, and said pettishly, “Go away with your nonsense!
-There is no such thing as a princess who can bake ginger-nuts.”</p>
-
-<p>But the king fared worse than this even with the third,
-who was, alas! the fairest and cleverest. She gave him no
-opportunity to ask his question; before he could do so, she
-confronted him with a query on her part asking him if he
-knew how to play on the Jew’s-harp. When he answered
-in the negative she rejected him, politely expressing her
-regrets. She liked him well enough, she said; but she
-had a particular fancy for the Jew’s-harp, and it was her
-firm intention to marry no man unable to play upon that
-instrument.</p>
-
-<p>So the king and his minister drove home again, and as
-he was getting down from the carriage he said quite
-dejectedly, “So this was a wild-goose chase!”</p>
-
-<p>But a king must needs have a queen, and some time later
-he sent for the minister once more, and informed him that
-he had given up finding a wife who could bake ginger-nuts,
-and resolved to marry the princess they had visited first.
-“It is the one who knows how to bake little almond-cakes,”
-he added. “Go and ask her if she will be my wife.”</p>
-
-<p>The next day the minister came back, and narrated to
-him how the princess was quite out of the reach of such
-offers, having married the king of the land where capers
-grow.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, go to the second princess!” But this time
-too the minister came home again without having accomplished
-his errand. The old king, he said, regretted
-exceedingly that it was quite out of his power to gratify
-him, his daughter having unfortunately died.</p>
-
-<p>The king was very thoughtful for a while, but being
-quite determined to have a queen, he ordered his minister
-to go once more to the third princess, as there was no knowing
-but she too might have changed her mind. And the
-minister yielded to his orders, although his own inclination
-was quite averse to the project, and although his wife told
-him it would be quite useless. The king awaited his return
-in some trepidation. He was thinking of the question
-concerning the Jew’s-harp, and the recollection was no
-agreeable one.</p>
-
-<p>But the third princess received the minister very graciously,
-and told him that once she had been quite determined to
-have only such a husband as could play on the Jew’s-harp;
-but that now, after all, she had come to the conclusion that
-dreams are flighty, especially the dreams of youth. She saw
-now, she said, that the realisation of her wish was quite out
-of the question, and as she had taken a fancy to the king
-she was willing to have him.</p>
-
-<p>Then the minister drove home as fast as his horses would
-go, and the king embraced him, and gave him a tremendous
-medal to wear about his neck. Bright flags decorated the
-town, garlands were hung from house to house across the
-streets, and altogether the wedding was such a splendid
-affair that nothing else was talked of for the next fortnight.</p>
-
-<p>The king and the young queen lived in a state of bliss
-and rapture for the space of an entire year. The king never
-thought of ginger-nuts, and that little matter of the Jew’s-harp
-had quite slipped out of the queen’s mind.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp48" id="i_229" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>
-  <div class="caption">“WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD THEY BOTH WALKED AWAY.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>But one morning the king got up with his wrong leg first,
-and everything went wrong. It rained the whole day long;
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>the imperial globe fell down, and the little cross on top of it
-broke off; then the court painter came and brought the new
-map of the kingdom, and when the king looked at it he
-found that the land was painted red instead of blue, as he
-had ordered it; and besides all this, the queen had a
-headache.</p>
-
-<p>So it happened that the couple had their first quarrel;
-what it was all about they themselves did not know next
-morning, or if they did know it they did not want to say.
-In short, the king grumbled and the queen pouted and
-would always have the last word. After they had wrangled
-for some time, the queen shrugged her shoulders contemptuously
-and said—</p>
-
-<p>“It seems to me you might be silent, and stop finding
-fault with everything you set your eyes on, when you yourself
-don’t even know how to play on the Jew’s-harp.”</p>
-
-<p>But no sooner were the words out of her mouth than the
-king petulantly interrupted her with the words, “And you
-cannot so much as bake ginger-nuts!”</p>
-
-<p>Thereupon the queen for the first time had no repartee
-upon her tongue’s end, and succumbed into silence, and
-without another word they both walked away. The queen
-sat down in a corner of her sofa in her own room, weeping
-bitterly, and thinking, “What a foolish woman I am!
-Where did I have my senses? That was the silliest
-thing I could have done!”</p>
-
-<p>The king walked up and down in his room, gleefully
-rubbing his hands, and saying, “What a piece of good
-fortune it is that my wife doesn’t know how to bake ginger-nuts!
-If she did, I should have been sadly put to for an
-answer when she reproached me for being unable to play on
-the Jew’s-harp!”</p>
-
-<p>After he had repeated this three or four times his mood
-brightened visibly. He began to whistle a favourite tune,
-then he went and looked at a large likeness of the queen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>
-hanging on the wall. He got up on a chair and took out
-his handkerchief to brush off a cobweb hanging down
-straight over the queen’s nose, and at last he said—</p>
-
-<p>“She must have been very much put out, the dear little
-woman! I will go and see what she is doing!”</p>
-
-<p>With that he went out into the hall, into which all the
-rooms opened. But this being a day on which everything
-went wrong, the valet had forgotten to light the lamps,
-although it was already eight o’clock, and moreover pitch
-dark.</p>
-
-<p>So the king put out his hands before him so as not to
-bump his royal head, and cautiously felt his way along
-the wall. Suddenly he came upon something. “Who is
-there?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“It is I,” answered the queen.</p>
-
-<p>“What are you looking for, my love?”</p>
-
-<p>“I was coming to ask your forgiveness,” replied the
-queen, “because I hurt your feelings.”</p>
-
-<p>“You needn’t do that!” said the king, putting his arms
-about her neck. “The fault was more mine than yours,
-and I don’t give it another thought. But I’ll tell you
-one thing: two words shall be forbidden on pain of death
-in our kingdom, Jew’s-harp and——”</p>
-
-<p>“And ginger-nuts,” the queen interrupted him, laughing
-and secretly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye; and
-that is the end of the story.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Professor Volkmann</i> (1830-1891).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_SAD_TALE_OF_SEVEN_KISSES"><i>THE SAD TALE OF SEVEN KISSES.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T is quite a while ago, I think, since one day the dear
-God called the angel Gabriel to him, as he often does,
-and said, “Thou Gabriel, go and open the slide and look
-down! Methinks I hear some crying!” Gabriel went and
-did as the dear God said, put his hand up to his eyes
-because the sunlight dazzled him, looked all around, and
-finally said, “Down there is a long green meadow; at
-one end sits Barbelie pasturing her geese, at the other
-sits Christoph pasturing his pigs, and both of them are
-weeping to melt a heart of stone.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed!” said the dear God; “go away, you tall
-fellow, and let me see.”</p>
-
-<p>When he had looked he found it was just as Gabriel had
-said.</p>
-
-<p>And this was how it came that Christoph and Barbelie
-were weeping so pitifully. Christoph and Barbelie loved
-each other dearly; one of them took care of the geese and
-the other took care of the pigs, and so it was a very suitable
-match, there being no disparity of rank. They made
-up their minds to be married, and they thought being fond
-of each other was a good enough reason. But here their
-employers differed from them. So they were obliged to
-be content with a betrothal. Now, as it is well to be
-methodical in all things, and as kissing plays an important
-part in betrothals, they had come to an agreement to the
-effect that seven kisses in the morning and seven kisses
-in the evening would be quite the proper thing. For a
-while all went well, the seven kisses being duly given and
-received at the appointed time. But on the morning of the
-day when this story occurred it came about that, just as
-the seventh kiss was coming around, Barbelie’s pet goose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>
-and Christoph’s pet pig had a falling-out over their breakfast,
-threatening to end in a serious <i>melée</i>. To settle this
-difficulty it was necessary for the two to stop short of the
-proper number. Later, when they were sitting lonely and
-far apart by the edge of the meadow, it occurred to them
-how very bad a thing this was, and they both began to
-weep, and were still weeping when the dear God looked
-down.</p>
-
-<p>The dear God thought at first that in the course of time
-their sorrow would subside of itself; but when the sound of
-weeping waxed louder and louder, and Christoph’s pet pig
-and Barbelie’s pet goose began to grow sad for sympathy,
-and to make woe-begone faces, he said, “I will help them!
-Whatever they wish for this day shall come true.”</p>
-
-<p>But as it was the two had but one thought; as each
-looked in the direction where the other one sat, and neither
-could see the other, for the meadow was long and there was
-a bush in the middle, Christoph thought, “If I were but
-over where the geese are!” and Barbelie sighed, “Oh,
-could I but be near the pigs!”</p>
-
-<p>All at once Christoph found himself sitting by the geese,
-and Barbelie was with the pigs; but for all that they were
-not together, and there was still no possibility of correcting
-that wrong number.</p>
-
-<p>Then thought Christoph: “Barbelie very likely wanted
-to make me a little visit;” and Barbelie thought, “No doubt
-Christoph has gone around to see me!” “Oh, if I could
-but be with my geese!” “Oh, if I could but be with my
-pigs!”</p>
-
-<p>So Barbelie sat once more beside her geese, and Christoph
-sat beside his pigs, and so it went turn and turn about all
-day, because they always wished past each other. And so
-to this day they are short of that seventh morning kiss.
-Christoph, to be sure, was all for making it up that same
-evening when they both came home tired to death with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>
-wishing, but Barbelie assured him it wouldn’t do a bit of
-good, and that there was no possibility of getting things
-straightened out again.</p>
-
-<p>And when the dear God saw how the two had been wishing
-themselves away from each other, he said: “Well, this
-is a nice kettle of fish. But what I have once said I <i>have</i>
-said! There is no help for it!” He made up his mind
-then and there never to grant lovers’ wishes rashly in future,
-before having made careful inquiries as to what it was they
-wanted. Later, I am told, he once told Gabriel confidentially
-that it was really a great pity that their wishes were so
-very rarely of a kind that he could grant them; and a long
-long time ago, when I applied to him in a similar affair, he
-did not so much as give me a hearing. Later Gabriel told
-me this story, and then I ceased to wonder.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Professor Volkmann.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_COUNTRY_COMEDY"><i>A COUNTRY COMEDY.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the open door of the house the dark figure of a woman
-stood out distinctly against the brilliant snow—it was
-Eva Barbara. Without a word she seized his hand and
-drew him after her; he felt her pulses beat, and her quick
-breath betrayed her excitement. At a rapid pace she
-drew him along the silent streets, retarding her steps only
-as she approached her father’s farmyard, where she dropped
-his hand, and with a shiver wrapped herself closer in her
-little shawl.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly the girl raised her head as if listening, and with
-a sob she said, “I am the most unhappy lass on God’s
-earth!” Then with a sudden start: “Hark! they are
-coming. I am yours, Paul, whatever may come. Sure you
-can depend on me. Don’t you hear them? For God’s
-sake, Paul, don’t stay here. It would be death to me to
-think you might fall into the hands of the Rottenstein lads!
-Be quick and away—why do you stand and look at me?
-If you care for me, go! God knows what a hard time I
-shall have of it with the old folks, without having to tremble
-for your safety!”</p>
-
-<p>“Eva Barbara—my own Eva Barbara! I <i>will</i> turn over
-a new leaf; I——”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, my God, don’t you hear how they are surrounding
-the house? Away with you, before it is too late!”</p>
-
-<p>Paul turned to fly—it was too late! Logs of wood came
-crashing into the farmyard, and were shivered into bits against
-the house. With a leap Martin, who was far ahead of his
-comrades, came bounding around the corner, and with a
-cry of rage he threw himself upon his hated rival. But in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>
-the face of danger Paul had regained his self-possession;
-cleverly evading the attack, he seized Martin and threw
-him down. Then he felt his hand seized, he dipped into
-deep darkness, a door was thrown to—at the same time
-there was a fearful crash upon the threshold, making the
-silent house resound. Eva Barbara quickly fastened the
-bolts and hooks, and for the time being Paul was safe.</p>
-
-<p>For the time being!</p>
-
-<p>A thrill of suppressed rage passed through the lad standing
-in the dark, icy-cold entry beside the weeping girl,
-while his enemies raged about without the house, now
-shaking the doors, now demanding admission. What an
-ill-fated, miserable sort of scrape was this he was in! He
-felt like a grain of wheat between two mill-stones. He
-dared not go out; his life, or at least his future bodily welfare,
-was at stake. But if he stayed, and the farmer found
-him in his house—and there was not the slightest doubt
-that the peasant would soon find him, what with the
-unearthly din without—what would await him then he
-faintly divined!</p>
-
-<p>Again there were heavy thumps against the door, and
-Martin’s voice was heard crying, “Open it quick! Open
-it, peasant, or by the devil we’ll smash the door! Open it—Paul
-Schülzle is in your house—deliver him over, or we’ll
-open fight!”</p>
-
-<p>“My God, my God! how shall this end?” moaned
-the trembling girl. “Hark! Don’t you hear anything?
-Sure enough——Oh, goodness me, father is awake!
-Come upstairs. I can’t let you into the barn because the
-door creaks, and you can’t stay here by the stairs. Come,
-find a hiding-place upstairs, in the hall or in the kitchen—come
-quick! Oh, blessed Saviour, turn this misfortune!
-Come! father will be here with a candle in a minute; if
-he finds us together—you know what his temper is!”</p>
-
-<p>Paul’s hand was seized again, and he was drawn upstairs;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>
-fortunately the resounding blows against the door smothered
-his stumbling steps. In the sitting-room the peasant was
-swearing about the matches that would not catch fire; the
-girl trembled. “Straight ahead you’ll find the kitchen-door!
-God be with you; I can help you no further. If
-father finds me here all is lost.”</p>
-
-<p>A ray of light falling through the key-hole frightened the
-girl away. Paul was alone. Cautiously he felt his way in
-the direction she had indicated, but he found no door; in
-fact, he did not have much time left to feel for it, for just
-then the sitting-room door was opened. Paul bounded
-into the shade and then behind the door, which the farmer
-in his excitement forgot to shut. Again Paul was safe for
-the moment, although he feared the beating of his heart
-might betray him.</p>
-
-<p>A new attack upon the door put the peasant beside
-himself; he put his candle on the floor, then pulled open the
-hall window, and a very excited interview took place between
-him and the men without. Hot words fell between the
-peasant and Martin, until finally Martin declared that if the
-peasant did not deliver over Paul at once he would storm
-the house in good earnest; whereupon the peasant replied
-he certainly would not have that rogue of a trumpeter in his
-house for a minute, but as for doing a thing because Martin
-said so, there was nothing further from his mind, and if
-there was one more blow upon the door he would not be
-slow to reply.</p>
-
-<p>The lads actually stepped back, and the peasant shut the
-window. He approached the door—Paul bit his lip; if he
-moved it, it would bring him face to face with the old
-man!</p>
-
-<p>But the peasant paid no attention to the door—he merely
-called into the room, “Wife, they say that scamp of a
-musician is in the house! Get up! strike a light, and help
-me wake the servants; the fellow shall not go unpunished!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp47" id="i_238" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_238.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“AN EXCITED INTERVIEW TOOK PLACE.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span></p>
-
-<p>“I’ve been up this long while,” replied a faint woman’s
-voice trembling with cold; “but there’s no finding those
-matches!”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t wonder! I was so flurried I threw them in the
-wash-bowl,” replied the peasant. “Strike a light in the
-kitchen, and hurry up.”</p>
-
-<p>The peasant disappeared with his candle in the narrow
-passage-way which passed through the entire depth of the
-house; in the dusk a figure flitted past Paul; he heard a
-rustling sound beside him, and then a ray of faint bluish
-light streamed through a half-open door. So that was the
-kitchen! If the woman came out now the light would first
-fall into that nook between the wall and the door which
-harboured him—discovery was inevitable. He could not stay
-where he was—but whither should he turn? The approaching
-steps of the farmer’s wife startled him. He must away—just
-then there was only one exit possible—with one
-bound he was in the sitting-room behind the stove.</p>
-
-<p>Again he was safe for the moment—but he was more
-securely than ever in the trap. Where should he go when
-the farmer came back with his servants?</p>
-
-<p>The woman shut the door of the room and walked away
-along the passage to the back of the house. Paul stepped
-up to one of the frost-painted windows, thawing it with his
-breath, and looked out.</p>
-
-<p>A leap into the garden was hazardous, but it was not
-impossible. By the pale light of the moon he saw how the
-men from Rottenstein were surrounding the house. This
-cut off all possibility of escape for the present.</p>
-
-<p>He heard steps approaching; he heard the peasant’s wife
-talk soothingly to his weeping sweetheart, Eva Barbara, the
-maid-servants also endeavouring to comfort her. So then
-he might expect all the feminine inmates of the house to
-enter the room at any moment—where should he find
-refuge?</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span></p>
-
-<p>Other sounds became audible throughout the house. He
-heard the farmer rail, the men-servants laugh and swear—whither,
-oh whither? In the room there was no nook, no
-hiding-place.</p>
-
-<p>Nearer and nearer came the women; desperately, with a
-curse between his lips, he ran out into the bed-chamber of
-the worthy couple. It was a narrow room, a so-called
-<i>rafenetle</i>; two thin panels of wood, about six feet high,
-connected with the ceiling above by carved lattice-work,
-just enclosed two broad beds, leaving merely a passage
-between them. The panelled walls were closely hung
-with wearing apparel, under which Paul quickly crept,
-squeezing himself tightly into a corner and resigning himself
-with a sigh to his fate.</p>
-
-<p>It was a tragic situation! How could he ever hope to
-leave this prison unnoticed? The only window was barred,
-and there was no other exit except through the room and
-across the hall! It was horrible! More than once did
-Paul scratch his head. As a measure of precaution he
-began to take off his boots, and, together with his trumpet,
-he hung them across his shoulders in order to have his
-arms and hands free in case of need.</p>
-
-<p>His situation was the more painful for the proximity of
-his beloved; he saw her shadow on the wall and ceiling,
-he heard her pitiful sobs, which showed him how helpless
-were the words of her mother and of the maids to comfort
-her—he knew only too well why Eva Barbara would not be
-comforted. How despicable he seemed to himself, crouching
-in his corner!</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile the uproar in the house continued; by the
-zeal with which all nooks and corners were searched he
-could judge what store the farmer set upon his discovery,
-and at the same time how hot a reception was awaiting
-him if he were found. Time seemed endless until the
-peasant came back into the room shivering with cold, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>
-declared—to Paul’s infinite relief, “Those Rottenstein
-fellows shall pay dearly for this hubbub! Thunder and
-lightning! Those fools! It’s clear as day that Paul
-Schülzle is not in this house. Like as not he got away
-from them while they were thumping on the door for dear
-life! He can’t crawl into a rat’s hole, I take it, and he’s
-not invisible—we should have found him sure as pop if he
-were in the house. Every corner has been searched—every
-room except the <i>rafenetle</i>, and there he can’t—humph,
-the devil! There is no knowing! Never say die!”</p>
-
-<p>Terror took Paul’s breath away—whither, oh whither?
-He heard the old man’s wife say fretfully, “Go along with
-you! Have you lost your senses? How could anybody
-get into this room, not to mention the <i>rafenetle</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>But he did not wait to hear the result of this intervention,
-and with an alacrity worthy of a better cause he crawled
-under the bed nearest him. This was no easy thing to do;
-first his boots and his trumpet hindered him, and then he
-found under the bed a collection of band-boxes, jars, and
-baskets filled with eggs, which he cautiously pushed aside,
-arranging them in such fashion that in case of need they might
-serve as a barrier to screen him from view. One round
-basket of eggs he very nearly knocked over; the eggs were
-still rolling and rumbling about in their receptacle as the
-farmer entered the <i>rafenetle</i> saying, “That’s all very well,
-but there is no knowing!”</p>
-
-<p>The farmer examined the clothing hanging along the
-panels, then, sure enough, he put his candle on the floor
-and looked under the beds—but for the boxes and baskets
-the poor devil had been lost. So the farmer went back
-into the sitting-room grumbling, and Paul heard him say,
-“There’s nothing to be seen of him! Now I’ll have a
-word to say to those Rottenstein lads!”</p>
-
-<p>Thereupon a heated debate took place in the hall and in
-the courtyard, which Paul could not understand. At last<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>
-the farmer clapped the window to, sent the servants to bed,
-and came back into the room panting with ire.</p>
-
-<p>“So there!” he roared, “we are well rid of the
-musician, and of that fellow Martin as well! It is well—quite
-well so! About Martin I am rather sorry, but you
-never cared for him much, Eva Barbara, so let him go—there’ll
-be no lack of suitors. And now, stop crying, child!
-Go to bed and sleep! But there’s one thing you must
-promise me, Eva Barbara: be sure you don’t so much as
-look at that trumpeter again,—that’s all over, d’ye hear me?
-Eh, will you promise me that?”</p>
-
-<p>“Now hush, don’t say another word, and leave the poor
-lass in peace!” interrupted his wife. “Have you forgotten
-that this whole business is your fault? Now go to bed,
-dear child. Don’t you be troubled; I’ll let no harm
-come to ye! Go now, the Lord will turn it all to a
-blessing!”</p>
-
-<p>To lose no word of this conversation, which made Paul’s
-heart beat faster, he had kept quite still, and now it was too
-late to leave his uncomfortable place under the bed. The
-maids left the room and the old people hastened to get into
-bed.</p>
-
-<p>Shame, rage, fear, and contrition joined to raise Paul’s
-bitter indignation against himself. So this was what his
-stubbornness had brought him—to lie in fear and trembling,
-shaking with cold, under the bed of the man whose son he
-might have been! To hide like a thief, to be so disgracefully
-situated that he dared not stir for fear of discovery.
-Paul ground his teeth. Suppose to-night’s adventures
-should become known! Holy Virgin! to think of the
-laughter and the scoffs!</p>
-
-<p>The peasant threw himself from side to side in a restless
-manner, greatly to the discomfort of his guest, who was
-vastly alarmed every time the bedstead creaked. And
-when his wife on the other side began to sigh audibly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>
-the farmer said, “I say, old woman, I can’t sleep. I can’t
-for the life of me get that vile affair out of my head!”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s just the same with me!” was the troubled answer.</p>
-
-<p>“A most provoking piece of business it is, confound it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Swearing don’t make it any better! Don’t be foolish!
-The lass likes him better than Martin; there’s no denyin’
-it! It’s not so very dreadful that he walked home with
-her!”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s not what I mean!” growled the peasant. “The
-lass will not be willing to let Paul slip; and, to tell the
-truth, for all I’m so enraged with the fellow, I like him
-better now than all the other lads. <i>That’s</i> where the trouble
-lies!”</p>
-
-<p>“Good gracious! If that is what you mean——”</p>
-
-<p>“I might have known what was coming!” interrupted
-the farmer angrily. “There’s no such thing as talking
-sensible to you women-folks. It’s all over between the
-lass and Paul Schülzle, now and forever, I tell you. Don’t
-you say another word about that, whatever you do!”</p>
-
-<p>Except the sighs of the woman and the creaking of the
-peasant’s bedstead, it was now quiet in the chamber. Paul
-did not stir. Although the frost was shaking him, and he
-was biting his fur-cap so that the chattering of his teeth
-might not betray him, there was a fire raging within him.
-He was very unhappy under the bed!</p>
-
-<p>In feverish excitement he waited for the couple to fall
-asleep. After a while the sighs died away, the bedstead
-ceased to creak, but it was in vain he waited for the reassuring
-sound of healthy snoring. At Paul’s slightest
-movement the peasant would lift his head and ask, “Old
-woman, don’t you hear anything?”</p>
-
-<p>“Be quiet, it’s only mice a-chattering!” was the answer
-every time; but Paul was obliged to resign himself to
-keeping very quiet, so as to raise no suspicions.</p>
-
-<p>He suffered the pangs of hell under that bed. It was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>
-not only that he was growing stiff and stark with cold—every
-limb pained him from his uncomfortable position.
-Now and then he would consider the question of leaving
-his hiding-place, even at the risk of a fight, and so escaping
-by main force. What was there to fear? To overpower
-the old man was child’s-play to him, and before the servants
-could be roused he would be well out of the way. He
-would do it—yes, he would! When he had reached this
-point a tremor seized him. Should he lay hands on a man
-who had never harmed him, in his own house—ay, in his
-own bed-chamber? Paul cursed and raved, then he set
-his teeth more firmly in his fur-cap, and stayed where he
-was.</p>
-
-<p>His only hope was that in the morning the peasant and
-his wife would leave the chamber to wake the servants.
-This movement should serve him to leave his undignified
-retreat, and seek a transient hiding-place in the hall or
-kitchen, from whence to slip out of the house later on, when
-the farm-work had begun.</p>
-
-<p>This hope also was made futile by no less a person than
-Eva Barbara! Anxiety for Paul had robbed the poor child
-of sleep; his mysterious disappearance filled her mind with
-horrible fancies. What if he had come to grief by a fall!
-Or perhaps in his distressed search for a hiding-place he
-had wedged himself into some tight place which would not
-let him escape! There was no doubt to her that he was
-still in the house; she had seen only too well how the
-Rottenstein men had surrounded the house; an attempt
-at flight would have caused a great tumult at the least.
-Where could he have hidden? She wept bitterly, and each
-passing hour laid a new burden upon her soul. At last the
-deep, unbroken stillness in the house grew unendurable to
-her. How could she rest while he was in danger, suffering
-pain and distress perhaps? Softly she arose, and walked
-stealthily through the house, wringing her hands, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>
-whispering his name. There was no reply; everywhere
-the same deep and fearful silence. Without, the Rottenstein
-men were still guarding the house. Where could he
-be? Overpowered by grief and despair, she fell upon her
-knees.</p>
-
-<p>But there was no help or satisfaction in that. If Paul
-was still in the house, he was in need of aid and succour.
-Above all she must master the situation, and gain a free
-hand to act in his favour. Rousing herself, she hastened
-to her parents’ bedroom, asked them to remain in bed to
-make up for the night’s rest they had lost, and saying that
-she would wake the servants and look after the household.</p>
-
-<p>Had she but known in what a despairing rage her lover
-close beside her was biting his cap and clenching his fists!</p>
-
-<p>The old people were greatly touched by this tender
-filial attention after the storms of the previous night; they
-praised the girl, and gladly assented to her proposal. The
-house now grew lively; a shrill whistle in the courtyard told
-Paul that his opponents had given up their plan and were
-about to disperse. Holy Virgin!—and he was still under
-the bed! Every moment lessened the chances of escape.
-How should this end?</p>
-
-<p>At last the family sat about the breakfast-table, on which
-an enormous dish of sourkraut was steaming. Eva Barbara
-came in, and without ceremony turned out a large potful of
-boiled potatoes directly on the table-cloth round about the
-sourkraut-dish. While the men and maids eagerly seized
-the potatoes, blowing them, and often shaking their burned
-fingers, the farmer shook his head thoughtfully, and said,
-“Lass, lass, if I but knew what’s the matter with ye! You
-look like a ghost, and there’s still water in your eyes! Do
-be sensible! Come, wipe off your tears and eat. Sit
-down; my breakfast swells in my mouth when I see you so
-woful!”</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot eat, not the least bit. There’s nothing the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>
-matter. I’ll be all right again, ere long!” replied Eva
-Barbara softly. The mother shook her head, the father
-growled; but they let the girl have her own way, and Eva
-Barbara walked slowly away to make up the beds in the
-<i><span class="err" title="original: refenetle">rafenetle</span></i>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp74" id="i_246" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_246.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“A PALE FACE EMERGED.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Suddenly something began to stir in the clothing on
-the wall, a pale face emerged, and a pair of lips, trembling
-with cold, whispered, “Eva Barbara, help me!” With a
-scream the girl retreated.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span></p>
-
-<p>The face disappeared, and immediately the good mother
-put her head through the door, and cried, “For the Lord
-Christ’s sake—what is it?”</p>
-
-<p>Eva Barbara began to grow dizzy; rapture to find Paul
-still living, terror to find him so dangerously near discovery,
-nearly robbed her of her senses. Covering her face with
-her apron, she stammered, “Oh, dear—I don’t know—I
-shouldn’t wonder if it was a mouse!”</p>
-
-<p>“How you did frighten me, you silly girl. I am
-trembling in every limb!” cried the mother indignantly.
-“Is that all? The mice made a deal of noise the whole
-night long. I’ll tell you what, you’d better take out the old
-straw, and fill the ticks with new at once.”</p>
-
-<p>Eva Barbara was unable to reply; she only nodded her
-head. When her mother was gone, she whispered, “Keep
-quiet, I’ll help you!” and she hastened away. Before long
-she returned with a huge basket, removed the bedding, and
-began to fill in the straw.</p>
-
-<p>Eva Barbara was an uneducated girl; she had never heard
-of the women of Weinsberg, but in the simplicity of her
-heart she hit upon the same expedient. It was a difficult
-piece of work that she undertook; while she was panting
-under her load it seemed as if her heart would break, for
-she was deeply conscious of the fact that she was now
-bearing away her life’s happiness on her back.</p>
-
-<p>Hanehret, one of the servants, thoughtfully remarked,
-“It’s queer how that basket creaks, and how hard it seems
-for Eva Barbara to carry it, and there’s naught but straw in
-it!”</p>
-
-<p>Eva Barbara started, and tried to walk faster, when there
-was a sudden crash! All of a sudden her load grew
-horribly light, and there was a muffled thud behind her!
-She did not dare to look about her; with a cry of despair,
-“God have mercy upon us!” she rushed out of the room.</p>
-
-<p>The heap of straw in the middle of the room began to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>
-stir, a dark figure arose—slowly Paul emerged out of the
-cloud of dust, and sitting down with the resignation of
-despair upon the bench behind the stove, he put his
-hand under his fur-cap, scratching his head, and saying
-dejectedly, “Good-morning to you all! Here I am—do
-what you will with me.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Heinrich Schaumberger</i> (1843-1874).
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp83" id="i_249" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_249.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“SHE GAVE THE FELLOW A RESOUNDING BOX ON THE EAR.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak"><i>HOW BLINDSCHLEICHER WENT COURTING.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">B</span>LINDSCHLEICHER was a handsome lad, but dull-witted.
-One would think therefore that he must have
-been a great favourite with the women. But the village
-lasses of Zesendorf were not that sort. They would not
-“put up with a fellow whom nature had but half-finished,”
-as one of their spokeswomen had it.</p>
-
-<p>“But nature did not leave me half-finished!” said Blindschleicher.</p>
-
-<p>“She did,” exclaimed the girl, “because she did not put
-a head on you.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span></p>
-
-<p>He immediately seized that member in both of his hands,
-thereby proving the truth of what she had said.</p>
-
-<p>The fact was corroborated later by the military commission.
-He was nearly six feet high, but they dismissed
-him with the verdict, “too short by a head.”</p>
-
-<p>But there was one thing Blindschleicher knew—viz., that
-women-folks are to be prevailed upon mainly by flattery;
-and that a good head is not a necessary equipment for
-flattery and courtship is a well-known fact. But the handsome
-gardener’s apprentice had nothing that was at all
-available in his curly pate, and it must be admitted that
-nothing at all is too little. He was sweet as a fig-pudding.
-When he went out most of his button-holes were decked
-out with roses and rosebuds. If it looks pretty to wear
-one rose, as others do, he would argue, it must improve the
-effect to wear a number. His hair was made smooth and
-shiny with lard, and above each ear he would plaster it on
-each temple in a delicate crescent, like a Vienna dandy.
-He always chose bright and striking colours for his neckties,
-and tied them into knots, with long ends gracefully flowing.
-This as an indication of originality, and to attract the girls.
-But instead of the girls, the turkeys ran at him, and chased
-him with cackling vindictiveness through the village.</p>
-
-<p>In associating with men, he was rather helpless, and he
-avoided them as much as might be, because they either
-chaffed him or ignored him, according as their mood was
-frolicsome or serious. Toward women he put on his most
-gracious mien, and oftentimes he would secretly sigh, “Ah,
-if I had a wife! if I only could get a wife!” For a long
-time he could not make out the reason for his desire, but at
-last his feeling consolidated into a point, and then it grew
-into a thought, and he gradually became conscious why it
-was that he wanted a wife. He could then say to his
-tormentors, “You may laugh as much as you please. Here
-is one who will have me!” And there was one in particular<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>
-before whose countenance he would melt like butter in the
-sun.</p>
-
-<p>That was Liese, the farm-maid. She was the most
-blooming lass in the valley, and he set a wistful eye upon
-her.</p>
-
-<p>And Blindschleicher confided his troubles to his friend
-the watchman, as they walked through the silent village one
-night. “Man,” he lamented, “never was there such ill
-luck as mine. You wouldn’t believe it. I’m head over ears
-in love with the lass, and there’s no help for it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why don’t you take her, then?” said the watchman.</p>
-
-<p>“Take her, fool! when she won’t so much as look at
-you!”</p>
-
-<p>“She needn’t look at <i>me</i>. My old woman is firmly yoked
-to me.”</p>
-
-<p>“But it is at <i>me</i> that she might look,” said Blindschleicher.
-“When I think of all the trouble I go to to make myself
-agreeable! And as for her—when I say to her, ‘Liese,
-good morning, Liese!’ she turns on her heel; and when I
-say, ‘How bonny you are, Liese!’ she says, ‘How clever
-you are, lad!’”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, don’t that please you?” said the watchman.</p>
-
-<p>“How can it please me, when she goes on to say ‘she
-will only take a fool.’ She’s a vixen, is Liese! And when
-I give her a rose, and say, ‘You look just like it, you are as
-pink, and you are as sweet, and you are as thorny!’ she
-takes the pretty blossom out of my hand, and gives it to the
-goat to eat.”</p>
-
-<p>“Blindschleicher,” said the watchman in a low tone,
-“you’re on the wrong track to get a wife.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am sick at heart,” said the gardener’s apprentice, and
-he looked it and hung his head. “Time and time again have
-I said to her, ‘Precious Liese, darling Liese, you are like
-butter and honey; I could eat you up for love. I will kiss
-your feet, and you may tread upon me. There is nothing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>
-you could do that would hurt me,’ I said. ‘You may put
-your arms tight around my neck, and smother me with your
-cheek; it would not hurt me. You are like a heavenly
-paradise to me. I can do a great deal of fine talking when
-I once get started. Think of the ardour of my youthful
-blood,’ I said.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what did she reply?”</p>
-
-<p>“‘Go to the barber and get bled,’ she answered. ”Oh,
-she is a stone, man; she is a stone.”</p>
-
-<p>“Be comforted, lad,” said the watchman, who was a kind
-and experienced man. “If she is a stone, we will manage
-her. Stones cannot be raised by whining and pining, good
-friend. When there is a stone on the ground you must
-loosen it first by a sharp knock, then you can lift it. Do
-you understand?”</p>
-
-<p>“What do you mean? Shall I run into her to shake her
-loose?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not so fast, my lad. There is such a thing as a simile
-you must know. Supposing, for instance, I say you are an
-ass, you must not take it in dead earnest, but merely as a
-means of comparison.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, yes,” said Blindschleicher. “When I hear you
-talk like that I understand you well. You are not rude like
-the others, and you are my best friend. But if I could but
-have Liese!”</p>
-
-<p>“Women,” said the watchman with an air of superior
-knowledge, standing still and leaning upon his long staff,
-“women are the most peculiar among God’s creatures. The
-first human being did sorry credit to his creator, as is apt to
-be the case when you’re a new hand at making things. It
-turned out a plain wooden man. But the second human
-being—the second, you see, was much more of a success.
-It turned out to be something very different from the man,
-much finer, so much finer. The truth is, man is the job of
-an apprentice; woman shows the touch of a master. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>
-understand women; ah, I understand them! An old
-watchman like me, who has his eyes open every hour of
-the night, knows a thing or two, good friend. If you cannot
-win them with dainties and fine manners, remember that it
-isn’t every bird that can be caught with sugar. Try some
-other way; do something to offend her. Not in any faint-hearted,
-playful way, but seriously and thoroughly; do
-something to her that will make her think of you, and that
-will give her pain when she thinks of you. Soon she will
-stop teasing you and looking upon you with disdainful
-indifference. Perhaps she will hate you; but, my friend,
-you must know that hatred is a good deal nearer to love
-than indifference is. There is many a tale I could tell you
-of how love began with anger and pain. That’s what I
-meant about loosening the stone. There is nothing like
-the harsh, reckless deed of a man to make an impression.
-Try it; you can’t lose anything.”</p>
-
-<p>Blindschleicher went his way and made extensive preparations
-to think out this new idea. For hours he walked by
-the side of the brook, but how can we catch hold of an idea
-when the water is making so much noise! He stole across
-the fields, but there the crickets disturbed him, or a dark,
-mysterious figure would rise up in front of him which, for
-all he knew, might be a ghost. To be sure the schoolmaster
-had said to him, “Blindschleicher, I pledge you my word,
-you are safe from ghosts!” But then, who knows! It
-seems wicked enough to be thinking out something in the
-silent night wherewith to offend one’s beloved. “Wicked
-or not wicked, if I could but make her have me!”</p>
-
-<p>It was not until he was pulling off his boots in his own
-room that various more or less attractive devices occurred
-to him by means of which he might offend her. When he
-was in bed he discarded them one by one. He thought he
-could hurt her most deeply by going up to her and saying,
-“Liese, you do not love me; farewell for ever, I go to die!”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>
-He was quite stupefied by the power of this thought. It
-gave the poor fellow a headache, and the next morning when
-he got up, and the sun shone brightly upon the flowers of
-the garden, he felt that this would not do, and he said to
-himself, “Best say nothing about dying.”</p>
-
-<p>This selfsame day was a Sunday, so he donned his tight
-grey pantaloons, a yellow flowered vest, with the ends of a
-cherry-coloured necktie fluttering over it, put rosebuds in all
-of the button-holes of his blue jacket, arranged the two little
-greased crescents of hair neatly upon his cheeks, bestowed
-due care upon his sprouting moustache, and a look in the
-mirror convincing him that he was irresistible, his heart
-swelled with happy forebodings.</p>
-
-<p>It was with solemn feelings that he walked through the
-shady alley to church; this very afternoon he would try
-to meet Liese, and would carry out his purpose of mortally
-offending her. She would weep, she would pout; he would
-ask her forgiveness, and then their relation would appear
-altogether in a new light. Should these extremest measures
-prove unsuccessful, then he would put her out of his mind
-and offend some other girl. If that was all that was required,
-why love was easy play.</p>
-
-<p>“There goes the girl-hunter!” called out a giggling urchin
-as Blindschleicher was passing a group of lads with a mien
-half haughty and half self-conscious.</p>
-
-<p>As he reached the church the bells were just ringing for
-High Mass, and the people were crowding through the door,
-and he joined them like a good Christian as he was.
-Turning once to see who it was that was in such a mighty
-hurry behind him, whom should he discover quite near his
-side but Liese. She was giggling with some lads, who
-pressed close about her. Blindschleicher saw the vessel for
-holy water wherein each dipped his fingers in passing. At
-that moment the gardener’s apprentice was seized with a
-sudden impulse. Dipping his hollow hand in the water, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>
-crying, “Here is one whose devil I would expel!” he threw
-the entire handful into fair Liese’s face.</p>
-
-<p>Liese caught her breath, said loud and distinctly, “He is
-out already!” and gave the fellow a resounding box on his
-ear.</p>
-
-<p>And that is how Blindschleicher went courting, and what
-it brought him.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>P. K. Rosegger.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="WHOM_FIRST_WE_LOVE">“<i>WHOM FIRST WE LOVE.</i>”</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><i>May 1.</i>—I love him! Only thou, my journal, shalt know
-it, thou silent confidant of all my sorrows and my hopes.
-Without it is spring-time, and the nightingales warble and
-the lilacs are in bloom. What a lovely time for one’s first
-love!</p>
-
-<p><i>May 2.</i>—All night I lay awake and thought of him, and
-made poetry. It seems like the bitterest irony of fate that
-I must go to school to-day, as if I were a child!</p>
-
-<p><i>May 3.</i>—He is perfectly heavenly, handsome, raven-locked,
-with dark, glowing eyes, and a pale Roman face;
-his moustache is simply enchanting. There is certainly
-something demoniacal about him. I adore demoniacal
-men. They are so exciting and interesting. He looks
-marvellously like Lord Byron. Perhaps he is a poet, or a
-Polish prince in exile. He looks so melancholy and aristocratic.
-I imagine Max Piccolomini looked like that as
-Mortimer in <i>Mary Stuart</i>.</p>
-
-<p><i>May 4.</i>—How he looked at me as he passed me on the
-way to school to-day! I put that provoking school-bag
-behind my back. I trust he did not see it.</p>
-
-<p><i>May 6.</i>—I have confided my secret to Lina. She is my
-most intimate friend; our hearts are joined for now and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>
-eternity. We wept together for hours. Lina understands
-me perfectly. She too has loved and has suffered unspeakably,
-poor girl! He was an officer of the Dragoons, I
-believe, and came to their house a great deal; at last he
-came nearly every day. Lina expected his declaration from
-hour to hour, but he went and proposed to her elder sister.
-Lina thought her heart was broken. I should never have
-survived such perfidy. Men are very wicked and false.
-Lina has read <i>Faust</i>. He reminds her of Faust a little,
-she says. I must try to get the book. Lina raves over it,
-although she says it is very immoral.</p>
-
-<p><i>May 7.</i>—I have seen him again, and am in a state of
-unbounded felicity. Lina and I were sitting in the park, eating
-candy and talking of him, of course, when he came walking
-up the path. I pinched Lina’s arm; I could not speak, but
-she understood me. Oh, heavens! he sat down on the
-seat beside us! I felt my blood rush to my heart. Lina
-blushed too, which was very silly of her. I studied his
-noble profile; he was rapt in thought, and did not
-move. Lina talked and laughed quite loud; she is really
-very much of a flirt. Of course he paid no attention to
-her.</p>
-
-<p><i>May 8, Sunday.</i>—The whole afternoon I read in the
-“Book of Songs.” Heinrich Heine is simply sweet. What
-a pity it is he wrote so many things they won’t let me read!
-Mamma does not like him at all, but then mamma is so very
-matter-of-fact. I wonder if I could ever grow to be so
-prosaic? At <i>his</i> side surely not.</p>
-
-<p><i>May 9.</i>—No one knows him here. I have made some
-cautious inquiries. He is probably spending some time
-here <i>incognito</i>. I feel pretty sure he is a political exile from
-Russia perhaps, or Siberia. Perhaps he is a revolutionary hero
-like Lafayette, or Brutus, or Kosciusko. Maybe he has killed
-somebody in a duel—he always looks so sad and unhappy;
-or he is the captain of a band of robbers, like Carl Moor,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>
-awfully noble and gallant of course. Heavens! what if his
-pursuers should come upon him! But I love him all the
-same; it is not a matter of choice or volition. “Man
-cannot loose what heaven binds,” says Schiller. I think
-that is quite well put. We went through the “Bride of
-Messina” to-day. I find a great deal in it that applies to
-me nowadays. I think Dr. Strempel saw me blush once or
-twice.</p>
-
-<p><i>May 10.</i>—I have taken him for my hero. All the girls
-in the class have a hero. Alexander the Great, or Nikolaus
-Lenau. Before this I had Count Adolar, in “The Pearl of
-Venice.” I call him Lohengrin, that sounds so poetic and
-unusual; and I too do not know where he comes from, like
-Elsa von Brabant.</p>
-
-<p><i>May 11.</i>—Mamma looks at me so queerly sometimes. She
-does not want me to sit in my room alone so much instead
-of taking a share in her household cares. It is very sad to
-think that parents so often have little sympathy with the
-deepest emotions of their children’s hearts.</p>
-
-<p><i>May 13.</i>—All is over. My ideals are broken, my faith in
-humanity is gone for ever. Would I could die or enter a
-convent! I can write no more to-day—I have naught but
-tears and sighs to record. I only ate two apple-dumplings
-for dinner; they all noticed it.</p>
-
-<p><i>May 14.</i>—No one knows what I suffer. This terrible
-secret of my poisoned youth shall follow me to my grave.
-Lohengrin! How absurd the name sounds now, like a
-cruel irony of Fate.</p>
-
-<p>What would the girls at school say if they knew that
-Lohengrin, my interesting exiled Count, my Knight of the
-Swan—oh, horrors!—is nothing but a waiter?</p>
-
-<p><i>May 16.</i>—Did ever maiden’s heart suffer like mine?
-Ophelia or Margaret? Hamlet was at least a prince, and
-Faust had his college-degree, entitling him to social distinction.
-Ah, if he were but a shepherd or a hunter! There<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>
-are such pretty poems about such with princesses and noble
-ladies—but a waiter? It is too horrible!</p>
-
-<p>It was on the 12th of May, the most tragic day of my
-life. Can I ever be happy again, can I ever forget it?
-Aunt Hedwig was visiting us, and in the evening papa and
-I went with her to the winter garden of the Victoria Hotel.
-Papa and auntie were talking together, and I sat quite still,—I
-have grown very quiet of late,—and as I was sipping my
-iced lemonade my thoughts hovered tenderly about my
-beloved. A mysterious power suddenly constrained me to
-look up. Near me, leaning against the trunk of a palm-tree,
-stood Lohengrin. How distinguished and elegant he
-looked! His dress-coat fitted him like a glove, the one
-softly-curled lock of hair falling over his brow gave him an
-air of classic grace. A heavy ring of gold gleamed on his
-slender hand. Thank God, it was no wedding ring!</p>
-
-<p>“Waiter!” called papa—I heard it as in a dream. His
-eyes grew larger and more lustrous, a beam of light seemed
-to flit across his countenance. My heart almost stood still.
-He approached our table. Does he not see papa and Aunt
-Hedwig? Does he not see all the people about us? He
-bows, he says: “Do you require anything, sir?”</p>
-
-<p>“A bottle of Médoc,” says papa. I hear his voice as if
-it came from a great distance. I felt as if something within
-me had snapped asunder at that moment.</p>
-
-<p>“What a nice-looking fellow!” remarked Aunt Hedwig.</p>
-
-<p>“A Pole,” said my father. “He looks like the veriest
-fashion plate. Dear me, little girl, how pale you are! The
-wine will do you good, and you must order your iron pills
-again to-morrow. Here waiter, the rest is for you!”</p>
-
-<p>Lohengrin, my Lohengrin, and twopence for his tip!
-Even now it is a mystery to me that I did not faint away.</p>
-
-<p><i>Three days later.</i>—I have scratched out the last nine
-pages of my journal word for word. The occupation did
-me good. This episode is wiped out from the pages of my
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>life. Lohengrin is dead to me. There is one thing that
-comforts me—I now have an unhappy love. I always
-envied Lina a little for hers, she put on such airs about it.
-Unhappy loves are so very interesting and poetic.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp36" id="i_259" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_259.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“HOW DISTINGUISHED AND ELEGANT HE LOOKED.”</div>
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>
-</div>
-
-<p>P.S.—In future I shall fall in love only with gentlemen in
-uniforms. You have something you can depend on then,
-and the world is so false and deceitful nowadays.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>H. von Kahlenberg.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp74" id="i_261" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_261.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“PLANTED HIMSELF SQUARELY BEFORE THE SCRIBENT, AND STARED
-AT HIM IN SILENCE.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak"><i>WOOING THE GALLOWS.</i></h2>
-
-</div>
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the year 1594 the town-scribent of Nördlingen had an
-extraordinary visitor. A herculean lad of about twenty,
-unkempt and ragged, came to the court-room one morning,
-planted himself squarely before the scribent, and stared at
-him in silence.</p>
-
-<p>Unto the gruffly put question, “What do you want?”
-he answered no less gruffly, “A rope!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span></p>
-
-<p>The town-scribent told him he had come to the wrong
-door, the rope-maker lived around the corner. But the
-fellow replied to the effect that he did not need the rope-maker,
-but the hangman; he wanted to be hanged. The
-town-scribent shivered, for he thought the stranger was
-crazy. He therefore called a vigorous servant before
-entering further into this extraordinary conversation.</p>
-
-<p>The stranger now confessed himself to be a homeless
-tramp, called by his companions Jörg Muckenhuber, and
-his language being pieced together out of as many rags
-of dialect as his coat was of rags of cloth, there was no
-further certificate required to make it evident that he was at
-home everywhere and nowhere.</p>
-
-<p>He then proceeded to relate briefly and coldly how
-several weeks ago he had murdered a travelling pedlar
-upon the precincts of Nördlingen, and also between Augsburg
-and Kaufbeuern a foreign Jew. Both the Jew and the
-pedlar gave him no peace at night, so he wanted to be
-hanged, and as the last murder had been perpetrated on the
-ground of Nördlingen, so the senate of that town could not
-refuse to hang him on the Nördlingen gallows.</p>
-
-<p>The town-scribent swore furiously, and said it wasn’t
-every fool could have that for the asking, the town of
-Nördlingen had built its gallows for its own citizens and not
-for villainous vagrants; at the same time Muckenhuber was
-taken into custody, and the scribent presented the affair to
-the senate.</p>
-
-<p>The senators put their heads together without coming to
-any definite conclusion as to whether the lad was a fool or a
-desperate villain. As it was customary, however, in those
-days to cast the insane into the same dungeon as thieves
-and murderers, Jörg Muckenhuber was put in safe keeping
-in the tower, and the business was getting under way in a
-most correct manner, whatever further details might be
-brought to light.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span></p>
-
-<p>The executioner, the parson, and the barber, who went in
-turn to visit the prisoner and sound him each in his own
-way, declared with one voice that the fellow was rough and
-uncared for, but that his mind was very clear, and that
-there was no gainsaying him in his confession.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile the news was scattered through town, and the
-good citizens had lively quarrels as to whether a person
-could be hanged upon the strength of his mere confession
-and urgent demand, even though there was no further proof
-of the deed of which he accused himself; for nowhere was
-there to be found a trace of the travelling pedlar and the
-murder perpetrated on him.</p>
-
-<p>And when Muckenhuber was taken out, well guarded and
-followed by a curious crowd, to show them the exact spot
-where he had murdered the pedlar and buried his corpse,
-he managed to confuse and puzzle his judges by fine-spun
-evasions and equivocations, but there was no actual evidence
-of the crime to be found. The prisoner, however,
-clung with tenacity to his previous declaration, that
-he had murdered the pedlar upon the precincts of
-Nördlingen, and must therefore be hanged on the
-Nördlingen gallows.</p>
-
-<p>Although German burghers of provincial towns were as
-well accustomed to highly-spiced criminal dramas in those
-days as they were to their daily bread, the sensation about
-this unusual case grew from day to day; especially was the
-reply of the Augsburg and Kaufbeuern magistrate anxiously
-looked forward to, to whom the acts had been submitted
-with a neighbourly request to have inquiries made concerning
-the murder said to have been perpetrated between those
-two towns upon a foreign Jew. But here too there was not
-a vestige of a Jew or a murder to be found.</p>
-
-<p>But in the scrupulous proceedings of the sixteenth century,
-confession of crime was considered a proof by far
-superior to any other, and so the judges refused to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>
-satisfied, the more so as the prisoner continued to bring
-forth reasons to explain the absence of all testimony.</p>
-
-<p>It was deemed best to fall back upon that most unrelenting
-test of truth, the rack. How often had people
-who objected to being criminals been tortured into a
-confession; why should it not be possible to reverse the
-method and torture a man, who had set his mind on being
-a criminal, into a confession of his innocence?</p>
-
-<p>But in the torturing-chamber the senate of Nördlingen got
-out of the frying-pan into the fire. For when the thumb-screws
-were applied Jörg Muckenhuber persisted in piping
-his old song, and when the effect was heightened by forcing
-him into the Spanish boots, he proceeded at once to add to
-his original offence by confessing a list of robberies, each of
-which alone would have brought him to the gallows. The
-inquisitor had also a ride upon the sharp-edged ass upon his
-programme, but fearing lest the invincible Jörg should add
-two or three cases of arson into the bargain he did not
-press the point, and the triumphant rogue was conducted
-back into his dungeon, while the senate was writhing in an
-agony of impotent rage.</p>
-
-<p>To the more sagacious it became more and more evident
-that Jörg Muckenhuber was making game of the town
-authorities, but at the same time a joke of such ghastly
-grimness was unprecedented. Then too, no one could hit
-upon a possible motive why the churlish fellow should subject
-his neck to the rope and his limbs to the rack with an
-amount of courage and power of will that was worthy of a
-better cause. This seemed too much for the most vicious
-facetiousness. Moreover, not only the acknowledged crime
-but the whole person of this Muckenhuber seemed to have
-sprung up out of the ground over-night as it were. For his
-sudden appearance in Nördlingen was surrounded with as
-much mystery as his crime. There were some who
-confidentially affirmed that he was the devil, who was out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>
-for a lark and had chosen this method of twitting the whole
-of Nördlingen by the nose.</p>
-
-<p>However, this did not help solve the difficult question of
-what was to be done with the vagabond.</p>
-
-<p>Public opinion in those days generally inclined to the
-assumption that where the case was doubtful it was better to
-hang three innocent men than let one guilty one get away.
-And, moreover, Jörg Muckenhuber was guilty any way you
-might look at it. For if he had committed the murder in
-question then he deserved the gallows, and if he had not
-committed it, then he deserved the gallows more than ever,
-because by reason of his iniquity the senate of the town had
-made a confounded fool of itself. But as there was no
-unanimity in court in which of these two ways he had
-deserved the gallows, he was left for the present quietly in
-the dungeon.</p>
-
-<p>It was not exactly attractive there. The cell was half
-above ground and half below, in a small tower, which upon
-three sides faced a swampy bog; there was no surplus of
-light, but a narrow little window let in a bit of chiaroscuro,
-which would have enabled one to distinguish a chair from a
-table on a sunny noon-day—that is, if there had been any
-such objects of luxury at hand. There was more pleasure
-to be derived from outside. Under the window the frogs
-sang in a varied and full chorus. At one side there was
-another dungeon, occupied by an old hag, who obstinately
-refused to confess to being a witch. Her so-called window
-also faced the bog, and when the two neighbours
-looked out of the window they could converse with facility,
-although it was without seeing each other, and no one
-excepting the frogs overheard their conferences.</p>
-
-<p>Jörg had received the first intimation of his neighbour’s
-presence by hearing her pray aloud one day. It was no
-soft, humble prayer; it was passionate, almost as if the old
-woman were storming the Almighty with commands rather<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>
-than petitions. Jörg had never learned to pray, and at first
-the devotions of the old woman struck him as very odd;
-gradually it came to look very grand to him that an old hag
-should venture to address herself to God with such vehemence,
-and he came to the conclusion she must be a giant
-in strength and able to hold her own against ten men.</p>
-
-<p>He did not open the conversation, but waited until his
-neighbour should discover his proximity and address him.
-Even heroic women like to talk. Soon an intimacy sprang
-up between these two comrades in distress who had never
-seen each other. At first Jörg often interrupted his neighbour’s
-kind words with many a scornful and dogged remark,
-but she always answered him so mildly, and at the same
-time with so much quiet superiority, that Jörg’s insolence
-was soon tamed.</p>
-
-<p>In the course of a few days Jörg knew the history of his
-neighbour by heart, but he obstinately kept silence about
-his own.</p>
-
-<p>The old woman was the well-to-do, childless widow of an
-innkeeper. In her sixtieth year she had the misfortune to
-be accused of witchcraft. A wealthy witch is a rarity. But
-it so happened that during the last five years all ugly poor
-women had been burned up in Nördlingen, and as every
-witch was called upon to name accomplices, and as the zeal
-of the judges increased with each execution, at last it came
-to be the turn of young, handsome, and rich women as well.
-There were enough of these unfortunate women, but none
-was so unfortunate, and at the same time so heroic, as Maria
-Hollin. She had been in the rack fifty-eight times, and had
-confessed nothing. She was indeed, as Jörg had rightly
-judged from her prayer, able to hold her own against ten
-men. The judges were in despair; it was out of the question
-to acquit a person who had been tortured fifty-eight times,
-and it was equally so to condemn her without a confession.</p>
-
-<p>Moreover, the rumour of her firmness had gone among<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>
-the populace, and there was much sympathy with her, and a
-threatening murmur of displeasure against the much-feared
-judges. Up to now everything had gone smoothly and comfortably.
-Thirty-two women had been accused, put on the
-rack, convicted, and burned; not one of them had made
-any trouble. At the worst, the one or the other had to be
-left hanging with weights on her feet until the judges had
-had some refreshments. But when they came back from
-lunch the fullest confession had always rewarded them.
-And now, through the obstinacy of this woman, the smooth
-course of events had been most aggravatingly interrupted.</p>
-
-<p>And then, too, there was that provoking affair with
-Muckenhuber.</p>
-
-<p>The one would not confess her guilt, while they were
-hankering to condemn her; the other they would have been
-only too happy to let go, but even the rack was powerless to
-extract the confession of his innocence. The town-scribent
-thought if Jörg Muckenhuber were only a woman, then by a
-bold strategy he might be burned, as it were by mistake,
-instead of Maria Hollin, and she might be dismissed in his
-stead, so that each should have his heart’s desire, and the
-court should preserve its authority.</p>
-
-<p>But the worst of all for the senate was the prospect of a
-diplomatic storm that was brewing at the horizon in the
-direction of Regensburg. Maria Hollin had well-to-do
-relatives at Ulm, and the magistrate of that town, convinced
-of her innocence, had applied for her release. But that
-did her little good. The town-scribent thought it would
-endanger the reputation of a court to put a person on the
-rack for fifty-eight times and then not even to have the satisfaction
-of singeing her a little, not to speak of burning. But
-the burghers of Ulm would not be silenced. At Regensburg
-there was an important Reichstag that year, and the
-Emperor, Rudolph II., was present in person. The ambassador
-from Ulm received orders from his town to intercede<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>
-for the accused, and as he was not given a hearing he
-threatened to set the Emperor and the Reich against the
-law-court of Nördlingen.</p>
-
-<p>The history of Maria Hollin made a deep impression
-upon Jörg Muckenhuber. Until now he had looked upon
-himself as a hero before his judges, but by the side of this
-true heroine he appeared to himself to be playing the part of
-a bad boy. Out of stubbornness and pride he had kept silent
-about his true history before his judges; before this woman
-he kept silent for shame. But finally he could not resist
-the firm, sympathetic voice of his invisible companion.</p>
-
-<p>So he was tame at last, and began to confess his tale to
-the old woman. At first he asked her if she had ever seen
-a pair of fighting dogs that had locked teeth, and so held
-each other as in a vice, for all the cuffs they got to make
-them let go. He and his judge, he said, were like such
-dogs. From a child he had led a bold vagabond life; he
-had enjoyed all the pleasures of a restless, adventurous
-rover, and had suffered all the deprivations and distress and
-shame of such. He had never murdered or robbed, only
-taken along what he needed. He was tired of the whole
-business. Life was a burden to him, but to take his own
-life, and be found later in the water or in the woods like a
-beast, was not to his taste.</p>
-
-<p>He had often heard death on the gallows lauded as the
-best, and when his companions spoke of their “heroes,” it
-was always of such persons as had reached the highest
-point of their career on the upper round of the ladder leading
-to the gallows.</p>
-
-<p>To put a showy end to life, which had lost its attraction
-for him, Jörg went to Nördlingen, a town which was then
-notorious for its hasty justice.</p>
-
-<p>Dame Hollin thereupon gave Jörg a most terrific lecture.
-To judge by the tone of her voice, he thought of her as
-standing in her dark cell like the angel with the flaming<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>
-sword. For all that her sermon did not touch him specially.
-He was much more deeply contrite when in the silent
-night he compared her heroic courage and disdain of death
-with his own sorry tale, making his invincible obstinacy
-look like the caricature of her bravery. He admitted the
-justice of everything she said when with a firm hand she
-shook his conscience; but he did not admit the justice of
-what the others said. And when Dame Hollin condemned
-him it frightened him as much as damnation at the last
-judgment might; but before that day came he was determined
-to play his joke upon the senate of Nördlingen, and
-hang on their gallows.</p>
-
-<p>Months passed. The two neighbours grew to be more
-and more to each other. The hardened witch succeeded
-in implanting a little bit of Christianity upon him, at least
-as much as could be crowded through the narrow-barred
-window. Jörg accepted her dogmas willingly enough, but
-would not let go of his own dogma, that he must be hanged
-on Nördlingen ground.</p>
-
-<p>Jörg had locked teeth with the senate, but the senators
-had also locked teeth with each other because of this same
-Jörg.</p>
-
-<p>Two parties formed and quarrelled so heartily that they
-quite forgot the object of their quarrel. One side, as before
-mentioned, wished to hang him because he had committed
-murder; the other, because he had not committed murder.
-Only the town-scribent constituted, in silence and all by
-himself, a third party of mediation. He wanted to let Jörg
-get away. For, he said to himself, if he had been put on
-the rack the first day, the truth would most likely have
-come to light; now it is too late. If we wait until both
-parties agree as to which offence Muckenhuber shall be
-hanged for, he may meanwhile die of old age in the tower.
-This would be a clear loss to the town, which supplies the
-vagabond with food and lodging all for nothing. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>
-town-scribent further concluding with subtle psychological
-insight that Jörg would probably by this time be mellow
-and tired of the poor fare of prison, it seemed to him to be
-the best plan to leave the door open by accident, so that
-the fellow could run away.</p>
-
-<p>So he gave orders to have the door of his cell left
-unbolted from time to time. Jörg noticed it, but did not
-stir; he was determined to be hanged on Nördlingen
-ground.</p>
-
-<p>But when he told his neighbour of the growing carelessness
-of his gaoler, things took a new turn. With the
-knowledge of the open door, though it was not that of her
-cell, the mighty love of freedom awoke in Dame Hollin.
-“If I could get out!” she cried, “it would not be to
-escape; I should but go to come back—go to tell my
-friends at Ulm of the disgrace I have suffered, and come
-back with witnesses and testimonials of my innocence. I
-do not want freedom; I want my honour and reputation——!”
-She did not finish what she wanted to say,
-but Jörg understood her.</p>
-
-<p>For some time he had been at work breaking through the
-thin partition between the two cells. His only tool was a
-small piece of iron, and the work progressed but slowly.
-After these words of Dame Hollin he worked day and night
-with the utmost exertion of his strength, and in the third
-night he could manage to crawl through the small hole.</p>
-
-<p>There was no time to be lost. This same night Jörg’s
-door was left unbolted again, so there were a few hasty
-words of farewell spoken. Dame Hollin crept through into
-her neighbour’s cell. Thus Jörg, trembling from head to
-foot, threw his arms about the old woman’s knees, and, as
-if he wanted to throw the fulness of his obedience and
-gratitude into one word, he cried, “Mother!” and she
-passed her hands gently over his face, feeling his features in
-the darkness, and crying, “My poor, unhappy son!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span></p>
-
-<p>Dame Hollin hid in the house of a faithful friend, to
-escape to Ulm the next day. Jörg slipped over into the
-deserted cell, and when his gaoler came to the door in the
-morning to push in a dish of humble fare, he crouched
-down in a corner, wrapped in the cloak of the old woman,
-and when the man passed on to his cell, he slipped nimbly
-through the hole in the wall, and in the garb of Jörg
-Muckenhuber received his own ration. He kept this up
-for about a week with much skill and secret delight, if
-sorrow for the loss of his faithful comrade had not choked
-his pleasure.</p>
-
-<p>But one day the door was opened wide enough to admit
-the town-scribent, together with the gaoler, the former
-ordering Dame Hollin to follow him to the court-room.
-Jörg played his <i>rôle</i> as long as he could, crouched down in
-terror in the darkest corners, and repelled his tormentors
-with silent gestures. But when the town-scribent cried
-reassuringly, “Woman, come boldly forth; I lead thee not
-to the rack, but to freedom,” then Muckenhuber forgot his
-mask, threw his cloak from his shoulders in impotent rage,
-started up indignantly and cried, with his clenched hands
-in his side, “You will do no such thing; I want to be
-hanged, and I won’t let you off!”</p>
-
-<p>The town-scribent tore his hair in despair and rage when
-he perceived that the witch was gone and the vagabond was
-left. He had intended to conduct Dame Hollin to freedom,
-but it was to have been freedom under weighty conditions;
-and now she had disappeared without any conditions whatsoever.
-Jörg, however, who was to have disappeared and
-no questions asked, sat once more firmly upon the neck of
-the senate. “Fellow, there’s no putting an end to you!”
-cried the town-scribent, foaming at the mouth. But
-Muckenhuber replied coldly, “It is this I complain of, that
-you won’t even try!”</p>
-
-<p>The senators poured bitter reproaches upon each other,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>
-at first in a low tone, then louder, until the storm grew, and
-there was a wild confusion of voices. Then the town-scribent
-silenced them all with his deep bass, and united
-the disputants with a word. He cried, “The cause of all
-this trouble is only Jörg Muckenhuber. Hang him at once
-if he does not recant his old confessions!” Jörg replied,
-“I do <i>not</i> recant!” and when the town-scribent asked him
-for the second time, “Now, I certainly shan’t recant,” and
-the third time ...</p>
-
-<p>There stood old Dame Hollin as if she had grown out of
-the ground, conducted by two of the most respectable
-burghers of Nördlingen and Ulm. She looked sharply at
-Muckenhuber, and said in a firm tone, “Jörg, you will
-recant your false confession!” The voice struck the
-insolent fellow like a peal of thunder. He was silent and
-lowered his eyes. There was no sound, one could hear the
-laboured breathings; then he spoke, “No other power on
-earth could have made me recant, but I cannot lie in the
-face of this woman;—I recant!”</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile the tumult of the populace without was
-increasing. The air was filled with wild threats, and with
-demands for the immediate release of Dame Hollin. The
-gentlemen saw that there was danger in delay. After a
-short, whispered debate the town-scribent read aloud the
-writ the old woman was to swear to. But Dame Hollin
-replied that she did not want mercy but demanded her
-right. The gentlemen of the senate made very wry faces
-and began to try persuasion, but they had learned ere this
-that there was little to be gained in that way with Dame
-Hollin.</p>
-
-<p>After a moment’s thought, she said to her judges, “You
-have tried to make a bargain with me. Having done so,
-you are no longer my judges, and cannot give me my right.
-Well then, I too am ready to offer you a bargain. Release
-that wicked lad yonder, I will adopt him in child’s stead,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>
-and take him to Ulm with me, and see if I can do better by
-him than you have done. My property has lain dead while
-you kept me in the tower. You should refund the usury I
-have lost; instead of that give me this wicked lad. On this
-condition will I sign your writ.”</p>
-
-<p>Already the populace clamoured outside the door. The
-senate would have had no choice, even though she had
-demanded much more than this.</p>
-
-<p>As she signed the writ, she found a bill appendixed for
-her fare during the time of her custody. She returned the
-leaf with a courteous smile to the town-scribent, and as the
-rabble was knocking at the door he plucked the interesting
-supplement into bits as fast as possible, and strewed the
-pieces under the table.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile the chains had been removed from Jörg; he
-looked about him as in a dream. Dame Hollin took his
-hand, and went to the door with him, where both were
-received by the gratified shouts of the shuffling crowd.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>The old woman kept her word. In her house Jörg
-became an honest, valiant man, who in the Thirty Years’
-War did great service to Ulm, the town of his adoption,
-and his name was never spoken but in honour and gratitude.
-But the witch’s counsel was forced to resign office, and after
-those five years of terror followed a better decade, during
-which law and justice reigned once more in the old
-Reichstadt.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>W. H. Riehl.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="ELECTIVE_AFFINITIES"><i>ELECTIVE AFFINITIES.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center">I.</p>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Highly-esteemed Madam</span>,—I venture to write these lines
-to you in the firm belief that you, like all women of mental
-distinction, love the unusual, and hate to the utmost the
-commonplaces of ordinary conventionality....</p>
-
-<p>Having left the company, and wending my lonely way
-through the streets of Berlin, I felt myself to be in a state
-of lively excitement. The events of the evening passed
-once more before me, and ere long I was in that incomprehensible
-mystical mood, which comes so suddenly we know
-not how or whence. I was quite capable of calling to the
-spirits that seemed to float about me: “Answer me, if ye
-hear me!” when the sound of a passing carriage called
-me back to reality, and my gaze turned from the stars of
-heaven to a pair of star-like earthly orbs whose mild light
-shone for a passing moment with full radiance into my
-soul.</p>
-
-<p>These starry eyes belonged to a young lady who was
-seated by your side in the carriage. At that moment I was
-seized with the purpose I am now carrying out.</p>
-
-<p>I herewith enclose an unsealed letter to the lovely
-possessor of those gleaming stars, and I leave it to your
-never-erring tact to decide, after having read the letter,
-whether you will hand it to the young lady, who is doubtless
-one of your intimate circle of acquaintances, or consign it
-to the atoning flames of your grate.—Yours most sincerely,</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">Von Sch.</span><br>
-</p>
-
-<p class="center">II.</p>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Highly-esteemed Miss</span>,—If Frau von B. should decide
-to give these lines into your hands, I shall consider it as a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>
-mark of confidence in me which encourages me in a
-measure to express to you a very singular request, as I
-am about to do. Perhaps you would have the goodness
-to look upon this mark of confidence on the part of so
-admirable a lady as a sort of pledge of my character, on
-the strength of which you will kindly permit me to conceal
-my name and social functions. At the same time I shall
-endeavour, dear Fraulein, to remain in complete ignorance
-so far as you are concerned.</p>
-
-<p>After these preliminaries touching the scenic arrangement,
-permit me to come to the point.</p>
-
-<p>I am sure you, as well as most persons possessing a lively
-imagination, have had occasion in life to observe the following
-occurrence. We stroll through the crowd of a large
-town thinking of nothing in particular, and indifferently
-passing a thousand faces that meet ours with the same
-indifference....</p>
-
-<p>And in the midst of this placid, colourless mood we are
-suddenly surprised and fascinated by a pair of eyes that
-unexpectedly emerge out of the senseless crowd to meet
-ours for a second and then to disappear again. But
-what a wealth of experience lies in that passing moment!
-We know for certain that never in our past life has that face
-crossed our path, but the sight has touched us with an
-electric thrill. And as our soul rises into our eyes to greet
-that other soul, a hundred questions and answers fly back
-and forth with the rapidity of lightning.</p>
-
-<p>“Who art thou? I have so much to say to thee. Secrets
-I scarce dare whisper to myself, I would entrust to thee.
-I feel that there is an invisible band between us.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, I feel it too! It would bind us closer than all
-other human bands.”</p>
-
-<p>And then comes the fear of making oneself ridiculous,
-and all the tame considerations that hamper every pure and
-fresh impulse. And all this, dear Fraulein, you and I have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>
-experienced. Our souls have met and recognised each other.
-This is a mighty fact, which you felt as well as I three
-days ago as your carriage crossed the Kurfürsten Bridge.
-If we were to meet now in society, the ordinary conventional
-preliminaries of getting acquainted would take away our
-naïve impression, we should be bereft of that elemental
-undeviating conviction which constituted the mysterious
-charm of our meeting. Let us then remain strangers to
-each other outwardly, trusting only to these first glowing
-intuitions.</p>
-
-<p>Let us exchange a few letters, freely and without a thought
-to conventionality. Their contents shall bind us to nothing
-in real life, and should we meet by some strange accident,
-they shall be but a memory.</p>
-
-<p>Do not, I beg of you, listen to the faint-hearted criticism
-of reason, but follow the first hearty impulse of your soul.
-It will lead you aright.</p>
-
-<p>With warm sympathy,</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">The Unknown of the Kurfürsten Bridge</span>.
-</p>
-
-<p class="center">III.</p>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—I have decided to answer your interesting
-letter. Frau von B. is to read all letters that pass between
-us, so that I can enter upon this correspondence with a
-happy sense of freedom from responsibility.</p>
-
-<p>I am weary of the dryness of ordinary intercourse, and
-there is nothing I should like better than to talk to a man
-for once without reserve. I drop my worsted-work as the
-prisoner drops his chains, and dip my pen into the ink with
-the thrilling rapture of dawning freedom.</p>
-
-<p>Do you know what it is to do worsted-work? Have you
-ever thought about this last reminiscence of mediæval
-times, this glaring anachronism in a time of steam and
-electricity and enlightenment?...</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span></p>
-
-<p>Liberty flows and surges about us, and life brings forth
-thousands of rich blossoms, and we sit imprisoned and—do
-worsted-work, or drum on the piano, murdering Chopin, or
-if we are very clever, sing Schumann’s songs with the pathos
-of dilettantism.</p>
-
-<p>When I met you on the Kurfürsten Bridge, Frau von B.
-and I were just coming home from a ladies’ party, to
-which all the guests had brought their worsted-work. I had
-really suffered under the unendurable weight of conversation
-on topics of the utmost indifference, under a hypocritical
-interest in things which cannot possibly interest anybody.
-My heart was full of bitterness, and on the way home I was
-considering the question whether such a life was worth
-living, whether it would not be wiser to run away, to adopt
-the garb of a man, and try one’s powers boldly in the stream
-of life.</p>
-
-<p>At that moment I saw you, and I felt all that you speak
-of in your letter. In that short second in which our eyes
-met, pictures clearly defined and wondrously bright arose
-before me.</p>
-
-<p>Dressed as a youth, I seemed to descend from my carriage
-and seize your hand, and you knew all. Silently we walked
-through the streets, hand in hand, until we reached your
-house. There, I told you everything about my lonely childhood,
-my joyless youth, and the world of dreams and ideals
-within me. You spoke earnest words of duty and work,
-called me your friend, and said we would go along part of
-the way side by side....</p>
-
-<p>After a winter of severe work came bright, sunny days of
-spring, and I felt at last that in the arms of nature, at her
-pure altar, I had received a “purer life, and the glad
-courage of hopeful youth.”</p>
-
-<p>I hope you will return my frankness in full. When we
-end our correspondence, and return after this bold aside
-into the track of everyday life, perhaps we shall bring back<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>
-some new, fresh courage, and the graceful memory of
-having been for once in our lives as foolish as we pleased.</p>
-
-<p>Kind greetings from your</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">Unknown</span>.
-</p>
-
-<p class="center">IV.</p>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Highly-esteemed Unknown Friend</span>,—Your amiable
-letter made me supremely happy. Now I know without a
-doubt that the mysterious quality of reading the soul of a
-being akin in spirit is no empty illusion. In that deeply
-mystical moment I recognised your charming self just as
-you describe it with winning simplicity. What you write
-me in many pages I have read word for word out of your
-eyes. And now that I know how near you are to me in
-sympathy and in intuitive understanding, now I have so
-much to say to you, so much to receive from you, that it
-were a crime not to tear down the paper barriers between
-us and to replace the dead letter by the living word.</p>
-
-<p>I only await your permission. I promise myself a great
-deal from this meeting, perhaps a friendship for life, and I
-warmly beg you to look upon the unusual beginning as an
-earnest of a happy end.</p>
-
-<p>Hoping impatiently for a gracious reply, I am, your truly
-devoted,</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">Unknown</span>.
-</p>
-
-<p class="center">V.</p>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Dear Friend</span>,—Allow me to tell you that, in spite of
-your somewhat too lively imagination, I have always looked
-upon you as a person of much sense, and that there is
-nothing that moves me more to pity than to see a sensible
-man attacked by a fashionable craze like spiritualism. I
-am always seized by the desire to heal the patient, which
-seems the more difficult the absurder—forgive the word,
-but I know no better—the cause of the attack.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp43" id="i_279" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_279.jpg" alt="">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>
-  <div class="caption">“THE UNUTTERABLE EXPRESSION IT PRODUCED UPON MY VISAGE.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>I hope you will laugh heartily over the following story,
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>and have a healthful feeling of convalescence when you
-have bravely conquered the first bitter taste of the medicine.</p>
-
-<p>A young widow, living in great seclusion, allows an old
-friend of her husband’s to persuade her to make a concession
-to him and to the carnival, and visit a masked
-ball at his house, in company of her brother, a comely
-school-boy.</p>
-
-<p>The latter, dressed as a young lady looks charming,
-makes countless conquests at the ball, and rides home at
-night in an open carriage with his sister, wrapped in a
-charming evening-cloak of hers, flushed with champagne,
-and with the triumphs of the evening.</p>
-
-<p>And lo and behold, upon the Kurfürsten Bridge the
-glowing eyes of the lad make, as it seems, a deep and
-lasting impression!</p>
-
-<p>A few days later the widow receives a very remarkable
-letter from a friend, which tempts her irresistibly to give
-him a lesson, which I am sure he will have the kindness to
-take in good part.</p>
-
-<p>She put herself as far as possible in the mood of her
-ecstatic friend, rummaged among her youthful reminiscences,
-and composed an answer which puts her friend quite beside
-himself, and convinces him that there is such a thing as
-mysterious sympathy of soul, electric glances, mystic bands,
-spirit kisses, etc., etc.</p>
-
-<p>And now—what do you say?</p>
-
-<p>In a gay carnival-humour, your old friend,</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">Alexandra von B.</span>
-</p>
-
-<p class="center">VI.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Dispatch.</span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Frau Alexandra von B——, H—— St.</i></p>
-
-<p>Had a photograph taken immediately upon receipt of
-your letter, to preserve the unutterable expression it produced
-upon my visage.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span></p>
-
-<p>Shall take the liberty of presenting you with a specimen
-ere long. Acceptance to be looked upon as an act of penal
-justice. In abject humility at having made an everlasting
-fool of himself, your friend,</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">Von Sch.</span></p>
-<p class="right">
-<i>Franz von Schönthan.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="HOT_PUNCH"><i>HOT PUNCH.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HERE is one thing that is beginning to strike me as
-very odd in life. It is how you make experiences
-without knowing it, and time goes on, and suddenly it
-dawns upon you that such and such an event was an experience.
-For instance, you spend an evening out of doors,
-because the weather is inviting, and you don’t in the least
-suspect the gentle breeze that is caressing you of any evil
-design, and then the next day, when the rheumatism sets in,
-or a toothache, or a stiff neck, or something or other of a
-surgical nature, which is best met by an application of spirits of
-camphor, then you know for certain that you were in a draught,
-and you are the wiser for the experience. You promise yourself
-solemnly that you will not be caught that way again, but
-the next time maybe it is not the draught, but sour milk, or
-beer that was too cold, and instead of a swollen cheek you
-find yourself in possession of the native semicolon bacillus,
-which luckily is unable to exist in hot punch, as they have
-discovered at the Imperial Health Office. This is a great
-thing, for when Frenchmen raise diseases in their undrained
-seaport towns, we in Berlin don’t have to confine ourselves
-to drinking carbolic lemonade, as we once feared, when we
-had lent Dr. Koch to France, and the papers were so full
-of cholera that one hated to touch them.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span></p>
-
-<p>Hot punch is a scientific discovery, which is efficient
-against the very fear of the disease, as I had occasion to
-observe in the case of Frau Postlieutenant, who was so
-moved by reading the papers that she was once affected
-in a peculiar manner, and could not find her pulse when she
-felt for it, which put her in an indescribable state of mind;
-for when the pulse is gone the last stage is approaching, and
-it is time to give a thought to one’s funeral. A glass or two
-of hot punch allayed the symptoms immediately, and before
-fifteen minutes were gone Frau Postlieutenant could feel
-her pulse all over. She assured us that it was hammering
-in her toes quite as strongly as in her temples. She was
-saved.</p>
-
-<p>“Frau Buchholz,” said she, “if you had not happened to
-come in just now, who knows but the black omnibus would
-have had to be harnessed for me by this time?”</p>
-
-<p>“It did look bad enough,” I replied, “but not so bad as
-all that. It was enough, though, to frighten a person out of
-her seven wits.”</p>
-
-<p>“I shan’t read another paper until the fruit season is
-over,” said the Frau Postlieutenant.</p>
-
-<p>“There you are right,” said I. “A juicy pear in one
-hand, and in the other thrilling accounts of the cholera
-would be more than Goliath could stand.”</p>
-
-<p>So this was an experience once more, to the effect that
-not everything that the papers bring is good for people, and
-that there is no better thing to bring one’s pulse back than
-a glass of punch, provided it is good and hot.</p>
-
-<p>The Frau Postlieutenant does not belong to that class of
-persons who try to give themselves an air by being ungrateful;
-who, when they have visited anywhere, talk about the discomfort
-of the beds, and, when they have been asked out,
-run to tell their neighbour the next day that it is quite
-beyond them to understand how any one can venture to
-offer such poor refreshments. No, she is not that sort, for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>
-when she had quite recovered she sent around to invite me
-to take a ride with her to the Grunewald, and drink coffee
-at Paulsborn, and then back again by way of Schildhorn.
-She had hired a very swell turn-out for the afternoon, first-class,
-with a coachman in livery, whose coat-tails, gorgeous
-with buttons, hung down from the box like a yard and a
-half of starry sky.</p>
-
-<p>It is not to be denied that the further end of the Kurfürstendamm,
-where there are no more houses, is pretty sandy,
-and the dust is given to flying about at a great rate; but as I
-had on my potato-coloured dress, trimmed with light brown
-satin, I did not suffer perceptibly, but the Frau Postlieutenant,
-in her black gown all covered with fine braiding, soon looked
-as if she had been done up in packing paper. Every vigorous
-breath of air brought some of the landscape between our
-teeth, where it gave a horribly rasping sound, but we bore
-up bravely, knowing that in Paulsborn the coffee-pot was
-awaiting us with its soothing contents.</p>
-
-<p>Our conversation was of a very refined strain, chiefly about
-the lack of really cultured society, which naturally led us to
-talk about the Bergfeldts. Frau Postlieutenant admitted
-that Frau Bergfeldt might have many excellent qualities, but
-she for her part should certainly never be willing to ride
-through the Grunewald with her in an open carriage.</p>
-
-<p>“Do you see, Betty,” I said, “what delicate distinctions
-the Frau Postlieutenant makes? This afternoon will be one
-of our proudest memories.”</p>
-
-<p>Mila also said that the weather was exquisite, and there
-were so few common people on the road. They never went
-anywhere on Sundays, she said, because the company was
-so promiscuous.</p>
-
-<p>Betty, who had been reading a good deal lately about
-human rights and the equality of the classes, was going to
-reply, but fortunately the carriage stopped just then before
-the lodge at Paulsborn. I am sure there is no class or rank<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>
-that I despise, and I respect everybody that gets an honest
-living; but for all the books in the world, and all the talk
-about equality, I don’t feel in the least inclined to give a
-<i>thé dansant</i> to the milkman and the chimney-sweep.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Julius Stinde.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="WOMAN"><i>WOMAN.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N his relation to women man is always more or less of
-a fool, whether he be their husband, lover, counsellor,
-or friend. He explains the same thing to them over and
-over again; he declares, he demonstrates with a will; he
-would have it thus and so, because only in this wise, and
-at such a time, will it fulfil his purpose; he points the
-argument and he grounds it with such explicitness that a
-very sign-post would strike root at listening to him; he
-accents the <i>casus quæstionis</i> with all possible pantomime,
-and with all logical emphasis. For a moment the lady fears
-the threatening storm; but as for the mental effect, the
-effect which the argument should make as such, which
-truth should make as truth,—for that her ladyship has
-no respect; indeed she does not even respect law and
-justice with all her heart, but only under compulsion, and
-driven thereto by despair.</p>
-
-<p>Man may talk as much as he pleases; the spoken word
-exerts no potent influence over a genuine woman. So long
-as her emotions are strongly affected, the whole line of
-argumentation to which the word gives expression seems
-to her but a piece of academical man-invented pedantry—the
-learned twaddle of the schools. She inclineth not her
-ear to <i>reasons</i>; she considers them an intolerable imposition,
-an encroachment upon the realm of her sentiment and the
-supremacy of her feminine intuition. Her logic is passion;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span>
-she feels but her mood, her interest; she sees things and
-relations but as they regard her personally. Whether there
-is an injustice to others implied, and what is the true
-import of things <i>per se</i>, all that is rarely comprehended and
-retained by a woman where her interest or her antipathy
-comes into play. In the entire course of the clearest and
-concisest exposition the fair listener is occupied only with
-her excitement and opposition, and never with the subject
-in question and its importance. The spoken word, as soon
-as she is required to acknowledge its office as bearer and
-representative of spirit, to value its absolute potency, is to
-her but empty sound. At the last she yields to pathos—to
-emphasis, to oratory, as she might do in a play. The
-dialectics affect her possibly by their eloquence, diction,
-and plastic qualities, rarely by the force of conviction.
-When all his arguments are exhausted, and the speaker
-looks forward to the effect for the sake of which he has
-marshalled all his rhetorical art and logic, and taken his
-eloquence into both hands as it were, Madam comes
-back to the same fatal point, to the same nonsense from
-whence she started; and all the forces of rhetoric, all the
-concentrated reasoning goes for nothing.</p>
-
-<p>Now the man’s temper rises, and he waxes indignant;
-a piece of copper is finally persuaded by the hammer to
-become a tea-kettle; words can be engraved on stone and
-steel, why not upon the <i>tabula rasa</i>, the blank daguerreotype-plate
-of a woman’s mind?</p>
-
-<p>The quietest, most serene of men must despair when
-there is no appealing to human reason. But Madam
-<i>shall</i> be convinced. He counts again the serried syllogisms
-on trembling fingers, with flashing eyes and tremulous
-lips, with a voice half suppressed by rage; every word
-is accentuated as if it were to conjure up spirits and
-wake the dead. Arguments are applied like thumb-screws,
-the entire demonstration is held up menacingly like a pistol<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span>
-with trigger drawn; she is accused of reason, and in the
-next moment it is demanded of her, as one demands the
-evidence of his five senses from a person suspicious of
-insanity. Madam is asked to declare, brief and plain,
-whether she had understood; she is not to say what she
-will do or not do; the matter under discussion and its fulfilment
-is to remain secondary; the man wants naught but
-the satisfaction of an acknowledgment that he is right, that
-his better-half possesses and respects human reason. All
-material interest is to be set aside; her ladyship shall have
-quite her own way; it is only demanded that there be a
-declaration in the interest of truth, of logic, of human
-dignity; but of this the fair sufferer in the cause of Reason
-is not capable, it is asking too much of her feminine nature,
-it breaks her heart. She feels herself ill-treated; in her
-excitement she has heard nothing but words, and like a
-tragedy-queen, she has been occupied only with her grief.
-She comprehends naught but her boundless misery, and the
-axiomatic barbarity of the genus man. And the tears she
-has long repressed burst forth, washing away demonstrations,
-syllogisms, and all; <i>that is a woman’s logic</i>. Nature
-will not be forced, and least of all woman-nature. Dosed
-with argumentation and logic, it loses appetite, fulness, wit,
-complexion, grace, amiability, and vivacity. A platonic
-friend of the ladies is, as a rule, an unmanly creature; that
-is, quite as unreasonable and weakly constructed as the
-female to whom he feels sympathetically drawn. Manly
-differences and manly reconciliations are quite out of the
-question in so unnatural a relation. Especially is there one
-case which calls for commiseration—viz., when a genuine
-man is called upon to be the dependant, the counsellor, and
-the gallant friend of a vain old hag abandoned of all graces;
-when, for instance, a son-in-law is condemned to manage
-the affairs of madam his mother-in-law. Either the lady is
-ungently set to rights, or else his unbounded respect for old<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span>
-age brings the son-in-law to an untimely grave. With the
-most uncongenial male one can discuss a question, and
-there is a possibility of arriving at an understanding or
-compromise; with every man some manœuvre will catch,
-but never with a woman who thinks her interest and
-the authority of her wilfulness endangered. In this
-desperate case she is destitute of reason and character,
-without method and consistency, without understanding
-and common justice, an enemy of all business
-principles and all promptness, ay, even without conscience
-and pity.</p>
-
-<p>She would like to make a bargain but not risk anything;
-yes, she will risk but not lose anything; yes, she will lose
-but it must not cost her anything. All old ladies are
-parsimonious; they have a passion for playing cards, but
-there is always the one condition that their cavalier, with
-dutiful politeness, lets them win his money. Dull are all
-old ladies, and hard to entertain if they cannot indulge in
-weather-worn flirtations, or if they do not perceive themselves
-to be the objects of devotion and attention.
-Ignorant of affairs are all ladies, the old and the young; but
-the old never to their disadvantage where money plays
-a part. Suspicious are they all by unalterable right, and
-curious because they are suspicious, if for no other reason.
-In some cases they are compassionate—<i>i.e.</i>, in cases of
-illness, of which they have more innate knowledge and
-power of subtle diagnosis than an experienced physician
-gets to his dying day; but toward their creditors they are
-worse than barbaric, they persecute them without sense or
-reason.</p>
-
-<p>Women are always mixing up the most insignificant
-things with the most important; the details with the
-principal points, the person, and the cause.</p>
-
-<p>Neither an old barrister nor a young lawyer can bring
-them to see the <i>punctum juris</i>, for they have as little sense<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span>
-of right and justice as a Hottentot, or an Englishman
-making a bargain.</p>
-
-<p>Of two evils women cannot choose the lesser until the
-greater is hard upon them.</p>
-
-<p>They want to build a large house, for instance, but are
-unwilling to lay a deep foundation; it is to have three
-storeys, but without the inconvenience of stairs, and there
-must be a cellar in each storey; else what is the use of
-having an architect for your lover, or indulgent husband, or
-friend? They want to go a-travelling, but at the same time
-things must be more comfortable and cheaper than at
-home; there is to be no luggage-waggon, but of course they
-must have twelve trunks and a half, and by dint of much
-coaxing they will spare you the half. Their goal is toward
-the north, but they wish to drive in a south-westerly
-direction, because it blows into the carriage from the other
-side.</p>
-
-<p>A woman has leased her farm, and is afterwards indignant
-at the good harvest which she might have had instead of
-her tenant. At last she has sold the estate, and has the
-money safe in her pocket, but she is quite taken by surprise
-at the thought of moving and giving up the old homestead.
-A woman is always greatly disconcerted to hear that she
-cannot sell things and keep them at the same time.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Bogumil Golz</i> (1801-1870).
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_CHRISTMAS_TALE"><i>A CHRISTMAS TALE.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T is a most charming thing to compose fairy-tales at
-Christmas-time. But there are difficulties to contend
-with, take my word for it, dear reader. I am an honest sort
-of fellow, who never makes a murderer’s den of his heart,
-as the proverb says. So I will confess that I have a strong<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>
-aversion to telling any particularly preposterous lies to the
-good people who may chance to read this, by relating
-wonderful, supernatural tales, and calling forth an impression
-as if I had elves to black my boots every day of my
-life. Ah no! sooner than do that I will give up the whole
-secret as to how the following story came to me, and at best
-I cannot swear that it is a pretty one. I said to myself,
-“Good friend, you must cultivate a certain mood; conjure
-up the breath of the woodlands about you, and all the rest
-will follow.” This was not so very difficult. I bought a
-little fir-tree, and set it up among the folios of the oaken
-table in my study.</p>
-
-<p>It was a nice little tree, and I pictured to myself the spot
-in the forest where it came from: a snow-covered opening,
-enclosed by tall dark pines, the edges thickly set with
-various young evergreens which must needs be thinned out.
-I smelled of the tree until my nose burned under its prickly
-needles. Ah, how sweetly aromatic! Like shades out of
-the lap of eternity, the Christmas-eves of long ago rose up
-before me, with many sweet memories interesting only to
-myself, with hosts of fairy-tales which Grimm and Ludwig
-Bechstein have long since put into charming books. But
-soon I perceived that the breath of the fir-tree would not
-suffice for my purpose, and that my mood required to be
-worked upon by means of other aids. I thereupon pulled
-down the blinds, although it was noon, and lit my large
-lamp, thinking of a well-known Vienna novelist, who is in
-the habit of putting himself into the bloodthirsty and
-terrible train of thought which serves his purpose by means
-of a piece of black cloth and four burning tapers, upon
-which he gazes in the pauses between his work. My large
-lamp sings, moreover, which is a quality that cannot be
-prized too highly, for oil-lamps do not as a general
-thing feel called upon to yield sweet music. As the
-lamp burned and hummed, I took great pains to start up a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span>
-rousing fire. It roared and sputtered with a will, for the
-wood was somewhat damp. But this was all the better, for
-a good, noisy fire plays a great part in literary difficulties.
-Hereupon I made myself some tea in my little tea-urn,
-which puffs and spits like a furious cat, and lit my cigar.
-The scene now comprised—</p>
-
-<ul>
-<li>A fragrant fir-tree.</li>
-<li>A burning and singing lamp.</li>
-<li>A roaring and sputtering fire.</li>
-<li>A puffing and spitting tea-urn.</li>
-<li>A glowing and smoking cigar.</li>
-<li>A meditating poet.</li>
-</ul>
-
-<p class="noin">I will not deny the fact that at this point I addressed some
-words of stern exhortation to myself.</p>
-
-<p>“Carl Pfründner,” I said, “if you don’t catch hold of a
-brilliant idea now, you never will. Such a comfortable state
-as you are in would inspire a chimney-sweep to write poetry.
-Suppose you get up something about an “Enchanted
-Sparrow,” or a “Bewitched Harlequin,” or a “Noodle in
-Luck””? As I was still pondering, my eye-lids grew heavy,
-and I fell asleep. I scorn to make use of the threadbare
-artifice of telling you that a brilliant thought came to me in
-my sleep. On the contrary, my nap was dreamless, and I
-awoke only strengthened in my dearth of ideas. The fir-tree
-was as fragrant as ever, the lamp and the fire still burned,
-and all the other aids to my imagination were still there. I
-now lit a second lamp, placing it upon the antique desk,
-and gazed thoughtfully into the hollow space between the
-drawers of the upper part, which can be shut off by a little
-sliding door. Thousands of times before had my eyes
-rested on that very spot, as if all possible subjects were contained
-therein, and my pen had but to choose before
-transferring them to paper. But never before had I looked
-with such particular interest at the small carved bar running
-across the partition.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span></p>
-
-<p>This bar is removed about a hand’s-breadth from the
-back of the ancient desk, which came down to me from
-the last century. I had always taken it to be nothing but
-an ornament to hide the rough board at the back. This
-time I suppose I held my head a little lower than usual, for
-I suddenly beheld a bolt behind the carved bar, which,
-when pushed back, fitted exactly into a groove cut into the
-upper edge of the bar. It was this circumstance which
-drew my attention to the said bar. I pushed the bolt back
-and forth, but it was back so far in the dark that I could
-not see how it influenced the bar. A couple of matches,
-used with great caution near the rotten wood, only showed me
-that the position of the bar remained unchanged. While I
-was pondering the object of the bolt, I made a second discovery.
-Far back behind the bar there was a narrow slit in
-the wood, like those which one sees on children’s earthen
-savings-banks. This was the more curious as the edges of
-the slit, as I approached it with a candle, appeared to be
-whetted off as if, in times past, they had frequently come in
-contact with hard objects. The resemblance to the slit of
-a savings-bank tempted me to drop in a coin. Of course I
-sacrificed only a kreuzer to this experiment, pushing it
-slowly through the hole, and then letting it drop.</p>
-
-<p>Heavens! what was that? The kreuzer fell first upon
-wood, judging by the sound, then it seemed to roll down
-some distance, and fell with a metallic sound. There was
-no doubt then that the desk contained a secret drawer, the
-existence of which I had never even suspected; and over
-and above this, it was evident that this secret drawer was
-designed especially to harbour coins, as the opening was not
-suited to paper-money or documents. The metallic ring
-gave good reason to suppose that the kreuzer had not
-fallen into an empty wooden drawer, but had joined the
-society of other coins filling the secret partition up to a
-certain height.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span></p>
-
-<p>I beg the reader to put himself in my position. Here I
-have a desk dating from the last century, my rightful property,
-and containing a secret drawer, which harbours, in all
-probability, a treasure of gold coins. I had often wondered
-at the tremendous weight of the old desk, and sometimes
-the motion of writing at it seemed to call forth a softly
-ringing sound. And now in this prosaic age my hand was
-destined to come upon a hoarded treasure, a treasure of gold
-and mayhap some other rare valuables! I trembled with
-excitement, and would have knocked down any one who in
-this supreme moment had asked me to think of that confounded
-fairy tale, not to mention writing it. My one
-thought was how to open the secret drawer.</p>
-
-<p>At first I tested the carved bar. It was immovable. I
-threw in another kreuzer, and, aided by the sense of hearing,
-tried to locate the secret drawer. Plainly I heard the
-metallic ring once more. It seemed to come from behind
-the carved bar, but the latter would not budge.</p>
-
-<p>I will not tire the reader, as I did myself, with my labours
-of research. For two hours I worked in the sweat of my
-brow, taking the old desk to pieces, so far as that was
-possible, without coming any nearer to the solution of the
-mystery. Furious at last, I ran out to get a hatchet, and
-swung it with might to crush all obstacles, when once more
-my eyes fell upon the left-hand set of drawers that I had put
-upon the floor during my search, and I laid the axe aside.
-Both of the drawers showed grooves along the sides, which
-were evidently there for some purpose, probably in order
-that they might be fastened from the side, frustrating any
-attempt to draw them out. Mastering my excitement, I put
-the drawers back in place, and saw now that the carved bar
-exactly corresponded to the position of the grooves. I tried
-to push it to the left, a thing I had of course not thought of
-before—it moved, and fitted as snugly as need be. Now,
-treasure, your last hour is come; that’s what I call a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>
-Christmas present worth having! Two seconds later the
-drawers were out, I pushed the carved bar around further,
-and behold, two small, dust-stained drawers were revealed.
-I put out my trembling hand——</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>I would say here that there must have been infamous
-rascals in the past century, who, not content with wantonly
-causing great excitement to honest people of these modern
-times, steal away their time, which they might have spent in
-writing a tolerable fairy-tale. Is there any one that can tell
-me why in the world one of those ancient fellows should
-have put the key of his street-door into a secret drawer? I
-wish it were the key to paradise which he had forgotten!
-The vicious old sinner might roast in purgatory so long as I
-lived, for of course I left the rusty key, together with my
-two kreuzers in the secret drawer, adding my curse.</p>
-
-<p>Every sympathetic Christian soul will understand that
-after this heavy disappointment I was not in the mood to
-spin out the graceful fairy-tale I promised. Indeed the
-holidays were quite spoiled for me that year!</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Eduard Pötzl.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_CASE_OF_MINCKWITZ"><i>THE CASE OF MINCKWITZ.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the course of the past month I have been called upon
-to bear the most acute sorrow, dear friend, of which a
-fine-strung soul like mine is capable. Indeed, my friend,
-terrible things have occurred! I am <i>misunderstood</i>! And
-misunderstood by whom? You will scarce believe me
-when I tell you, but it is even so: misunderstood by
-Professor Johannes Minckwitz,<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> of Leipsic, the great epic
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span>poet and literary connoisseur, for whom I feel the deepest
-reverence and the most tender affection.</p>
-
-<p>Hear the sad news. One morning as I was innocently
-turning the leaves of my “Neuhochdeutschen Parnass,”<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>
-my thoughts naturally enough wandering somewhat, my
-faithful maid-of-all-work stepped over the threshold of my
-door with weeping eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“What in the world has happened to you?” I asked in
-great consternation. “Has your lover proved faithless,
-Thrine?”</p>
-
-<p>“I shall have to leave this place, sir,” sobbed the honest
-creature.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t understand you, Thrine; express yourself more
-explicitly.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are dishonoured! And sooner will I starve than
-serve a dishonoured master, for folks do say that ‘a servant
-is no better than his master,’ and I am a respectable woman.
-Here is the paper, you’d better read and see for yourself!”
-Thrine sobbed bitterly, and handed me a number of the
-Leipsic local paper, containing an article heavily marked
-with a red pencil, and thereby recommending itself specially
-to my attention.</p>
-
-<p>No sooner had I glanced over the first lines of the terrible
-article than I grew dizzy, and therewith began to tremble
-convulsively. Thrine fainted away. Picture the scene to
-yourself, dear friend. Without raged the storm. Ah, the
-situation was dramatic. From the paper I gathered that
-Professor Johannes Minckwitz, in just indignation over the
-last of my harmless letters, had sued the editor of the
-<i>Salon</i> for misuse of his name, and for literary forgery, and
-had entrusted Dr. Coccius, a lawyer in Leipsic, with the
-impeachment.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp51" id="i_295" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_295.jpg" alt="">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span>
-  <div class="caption">“I GLANCED OVER THE FIRST LINES OF THE TERRIBLE ARTICLE.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Thrine,” I began, after an effective pause, “I begin to
-understand that we must part! You knew me in happy
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>days of yore, do not forget me now when sorrow is breaking
-in upon me. One service I would ask of you before parting,
-it is the last. Do me the favour to accept the “Neuhochdeutschen
-Parnass” as a token of remembrance from me.
-You always need paper to clean the windows, I know.
-Fare-thee-well, Thrine!”</p>
-
-<p>I was left alone with my anguish. Dishonoured, I cried,
-dishonoured! Misunderstood, indicted! How different
-was it, oh <i>Kleinstädter</i>, when you glided innocently through
-the pages of the <i>Salon</i> in the company of better wits than
-Minckwitz! Johannes turns from me, and</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Wo ich ihn nicht gab,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Ist mir das Grab.”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>So “The Death of a Youthful Hero” did not flow from
-the pen of the great poet! Never was I more surprised
-than over this discovery. I am to stand before the jury;
-I shall be condemned to dishonourable penalties—in a
-word, like the knapsack of the lieutenant, I am <i>perdu</i>.</p>
-
-<p>The <i>Kleinstädter</i> before the jury? Since I have heard
-that in the “Lawyer Hamlet” the jury are brought upon
-the stage to do nothing at all, I have a very clear impression
-of this horrible situation. In this “Lawyer Hamlet,” which,
-by the way, has been very scantily advertised (indeed scarce
-thirty papers devoted more than five columns to a detailed
-account of the piece), there is a certain Baron von Sonne
-who defends all poor people, and takes this opportunity of
-speechifying on various topics. This Baron von Sonne is
-the man for me; I shall turn to him in my extremity.
-And as I need not fear that the unknown author of “Lawyer
-Hamlet” will impeach me for misuse of his name—a guilt
-which he himself has been careful to avoid—I will herewith
-give the last act of the play, that is to say, the last
-act as it would have read if the accused had been the
-<i>Kleinstädter</i> instead of Stella.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span></p>
-
-<p>Here goes then—</p>
-
-<p class="center">LAWYER HAMLET.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Fourth Act.</span></p>
-
-<p class="hang">(<i>The court-room. At the left the benches of the jury. In
-the middle a table for the judge. At the right two
-small tables for the Crown solicitor and for the defendant.
-To the front a bench for the accused. As the curtain
-rises the judges are seen to enter. The jurymen take
-the seats appointed. The Kleinstädter, with his hands
-and feet securely fettered, is dragged into the room by
-gens d’armes. The defendant, Lawyer Hamlet, exchanges
-some words with the accused. The court solicitor
-breathes revenge.</i>)</p>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">First and Last Scene.</span></p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman Lehmann.</i> I request the audience to remain
-quiet; at the first signs of applause or displeasure all
-persons occupying the gallery will be turned out. The
-accused will rise from his seat. (<i>The Kleinstädter rises,
-his chains clash, the audience shudders.</i>) What is your
-name? (<i>The Kleinstädter looks perplexed, and does not
-reply.</i>) Do you hear what I say? I asked you what your
-name is?</p>
-
-<p><i>The Accused</i> (<i>greatly embarrassed</i>). Oh, Mr. Chairman——</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Well now, go ahead! What is your name?</p>
-
-<p><i>The Accused.</i> My name’s <i>Lehmann</i> too.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> You are accused of having published a poem
-in the Salon under the name of our honoured and esteemed
-Professor Johannes Minckwitz, and so to have passed off
-your own production for his. What have you to say for
-yourself?</p>
-
-<p><i>Accused.</i> Nix.<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span></p>
-<p><i>Lawyer Hamlet.</i> Gentlemen of the jury, I beg that you
-will note this “nix”; it is of the greatest importance.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> I must request the defendant not to interrupt
-the proceedings. Prisoner, no doubt you are aware of the
-fact that it is culpable to assign to Professor Minckwitz the
-name of poet—that is, of course I mean poet of verses
-which he did not make.</p>
-
-<p><i>Accused.</i> I did not know it, Mr. Chairman; I am
-innocent.</p>
-
-<p><i>Lawyer Hamlet.</i> Gentlemen of the jury, I beg that you
-will note these words; they are of the utmost importance to
-the following transactions.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> I wish to ask whether the accused has ever
-read the poems of Professor Minckwitz.</p>
-
-<p><i>The Accused</i> (<i>in violent excitement</i>). Never, Mr. Chairman,
-never! My record is spotless.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Why did you not read the poems?</p>
-
-<p><i>The Accused.</i> All my efforts to obtain the volume were
-fruitless. I called upon three of my friends who possess a
-well-equipped library; two of them threatened to impeach
-me for libel, the third kicked me down stairs.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> You may sit down. (<i>To the jury.</i>) A
-number of witnesses have been summoned before the
-court whose names the <i>Kleinstädter</i> is also charged with
-having forged. It seems indeed that forgery of names has
-been systematically indulged in by the prisoner. (<i>To the
-bailiff.</i>) Bid the witnesses enter.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>General tumult. Chairman’s bell.</i>)</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman</i> (<i>to first witness</i>). What is your name?</p>
-
-<p><i>Witness.</i> Dr. Max Hirsch.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Not related to the accused? Not in his
-service?</p>
-
-<p><i>Witness.</i> No.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> In the <i>Kleinstädter’s</i> second letter a speech
-is quoted which purports to have been delivered by you in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span>
-Parliament, beginning, “In England ... Sheffield ...
-partnership ... etc.” Is that correct?</p>
-
-<p><i>Witness.</i> No. (<i>Sits down.</i>)</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Second witness: His Majesty the Emperor
-of Siam. In his fourth letter the <i>Kleinstädter</i> relates how
-your most serene Highness said to your Highness’ servant
-among other things, “Ra-phra, how could my predecessor
-condemn a man of your integrity?” Is that true?</p>
-
-<p><i>Witness.</i> Never a word of it, by Jove. (<i>Sits down.</i>)</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Third witness: His Excellency the Imperial
-Chancellor Freiherr von Beust.</p>
-
-<p><i>Lawyer Hamlet.</i> I protest against the examination of this
-witness. Mr. Chairman and Judges, without venturing to
-impute motives not strictly impersonal to the witness, I feel
-it my duty to call attention to the fact that the relations
-between the accused and the witness are too close to assure
-an unbiassed testimony. Both are countrymen, both are
-great men; in the name of my client I move that this
-witness should not be cross-examined.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p class="hang">(<i>The judges put their heads together. After some
-time the Chairman announces that the court
-rejects the arguments of the defence as irrelevant,
-and demands the cross-examination of the
-witness.</i>)</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Freiherr von Beust! Not related to the
-accused?</p>
-
-<p><i>Witness.</i> No.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Not in his service?</p>
-
-<p><i>Witness.</i> No.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> In his fifth letter the <i>Kleinstädter</i> quoted a
-long telegram with the signature of your Excellency, which
-your Excellency was said to have addressed to the diplomatic
-representatives at the <i>Journalistentag</i>. Will your
-Excellency have the kindness to inform us as to the precise
-facts?</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span></p>
-
-<p><i>Witness.</i> Well, now, good friend, I’m afraid I’ll not be
-able to help you. I have sent a good many telegrams in
-my day.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Thank you. (<i>Witness leaves the stand.
-Chairman addresses the jury.</i>) Provided the gentlemen
-of the jury have no objections to offer, I will cross-examine
-the other witnesses all together. Fourth, fifth, and sixth
-witnesses: Victor Hugo, public writer on the Isle of
-Guernsey; Richard Wagner, musician <i>in spe</i>, and just now
-in Switzerland; and third, the man who wrote the prize
-novel! Gentlemen! in the letters of the <i>Kleinstädter</i> he
-quotes, or pretends to quote, from your writings; from you,
-Victor Hugo, a chapter from an unprinted novel about
-Barbara Ubryk, entitled, “<i>La nonne qui ne rit pas—mais
-pas du tout</i>.” The chapter to be headed, “Naxos, nix, nox,
-nux,” and beginning, “Night. Deep night, gloomy, dark.
-Upon the ground rotten straw. Husks and stems without
-fruit. In a word, straw.” From you, Mr. Wagner, he
-quoted verses from <i>Rheingold</i>—</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Winselnde Winde</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Wagalaweia!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Oh Eselinde,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Oh Eseleia!”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin">From you, prize-crowned poet, the novel, <i>The Bloody
-Tragedy at the Churchyard</i>. Are these quotations authentic—are
-you the authors of the same?</p>
-
-<p><i>Witnesses</i> (<i>in concert</i>). No. (<i>They sit down.</i>)</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Has the accused anything to say for himself?</p>
-
-<p><i>The Accused.</i> Nix.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> The list of witnesses is exhausted; the
-representative of the plaintiff, the Crown Solicitor, has
-the floor.</p>
-
-<p><i>Crown Solicitor.</i> Never, gentlemen of the jury, did I
-fulfil the serious and difficult function of my office with a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span>
-more quiet conscience or a lighter heart. There is not the
-faintest doubt stirring within me, no shadow of uneasiness
-falls upon me; the guilt of the accused is clear as day! We
-have here before us a hardened villain, a sinner of the deepest
-dye. What has occurred? A well-known magazine brings
-out a poem under the name of “Minckwitz.” The poem
-is not by Minckwitz; the forgery is evident. Taken alone,
-the fact of choosing this form of criticism would not be
-criminal; but, gentlemen, when this misuse of a writer’s
-name has the result of lowering him in public opinion
-it is decidedly culpable. And here this is the case. If
-Minckwitz were a poet of distinction, criticism would do
-him no harm; but as the <i>Kleinstädter’s</i> criticism is just in
-all points, it <i>does</i> harm Herr Professor Minckwitz, and
-lowers him in public opinion. The defendant might
-perhaps say that there is no penal law in the world which
-forbids criticism of a poet, and that the satire in question
-did not attack Minckwitz the man, but Minckwitz the poet.
-Do not permit yourself to be influenced by such sophistry.
-It is impossible to attack the <i>poet</i> Minckwitz, because there
-is no such person; whoever attacks Minckwitz attacks the
-man. I would be the last to restrain the freedom of speech.
-I admit the value and the necessity of criticism. But the
-chosen subject must be worthy of criticism. If Minckwitz
-takes pleasure in tripping up the great ones of literature with
-the utmost nonchalance in his “Neuhochdeutschen Parnass,”
-there is no reason why he should not indulge himself; but
-to criticise Minckwitz in his quality of poet is quite another
-matter; such a gross misuse of the function of criticism
-should be interfered with by a court of justice in the interest
-of the public.</p>
-
-<p>There is another argument which the defence will doubtless
-bring, to which I should like to reply right here. You
-will be told, gentlemen of the jury, that the degradation of
-an author in public opinion can be effective only if the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span>
-verses published in the <i>Salon</i>, under the name of Minckwitz,
-are poorer than his authentic ones, and that this is
-decidedly not the case. Well, it strikes me that the contrary
-is true! It is just because the verses in the <i>Salon</i>—as
-I must gladly admit—are much better than any
-Minckwitz verses; it is for this very reason that public
-opinion is unfavourably influenced. For, gentlemen, when
-Minckwitz brings his epos before the public, all the world
-will say, “The verses in the <i>Salon</i> were much more
-amusing,” and it seems to me this will not have the effect of
-heightening the author’s reputation. I have done, gentlemen
-of the jury. I believe I have proved to your satisfaction
-that the accused is guilty of the crime with which he was
-charged, and in consideration of the frequent repetition of
-literary forgery, as shown by the witnesses, I move that
-sentence be pronounced for the most severe penalty of the
-law—viz., confinement in intellectual pursuits to the works
-of Professor Minckwitz.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Sensation. Chairman’s bell.</i>)</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> The defendant has the floor.</p>
-
-<p><i>Lawyer Hamlet.</i> Gentlemen of the jury! We do not
-come before you with witnesses from the most distant
-confines of this globe, we do not come with ringing words;
-no, we are simple, harmless, plain, and true. We need no
-witnesses; the facts speak for us. Gentlemen of the jury,
-cast a glance upon the accused, look well at his stolid
-face, his fixed eyes, his enervated lips; and this innocent
-creature you would declare guilty of the heinous crime
-charged to him? Never, if I can help it! The representative
-of the Crown has told you that literary forgery in
-a legal sense is only possible where public reputation is
-endangered. I admit that in a merely human sense the
-name of Minckwitz was forged, but certainly not in the
-sense of the law. It strikes me that Professor Minckwitz
-would do well to get down on his knees and thank the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span>
-<i>Kleinstädter</i> for occupying himself so minutely with his
-small person; by means of the article in question Professor
-Minckwitz is not only not lowered in public opinion, on
-the contrary he is given more honour than he deserves.
-Granting, however, that the <i>Kleinstädter</i> could be convicted
-of forgery, would this be sufficient cause to pronounce
-sentence upon him? No, gentlemen of the jury, a
-thousand times no! I asked you just now to note my
-client’s physiognomy; I repeat my request. In these
-flaccid muscles, in these dim eyeballs, lurks idiocy. Far
-be it from us to avenge where we should pity. Yes, gentlemen,
-this <i>Kleinstädter</i> is an idiot, his physiognomy shows
-it, and still more evident does it become when you look
-back upon his conduct during these proceedings—when you
-remember the imbecility of that perpetual “nix,” and, most
-of all, by the deed of which he stands accused. There
-might be some sense in misusing the name of Goethe,
-Schiller, Heine, Geibel, Heyse, Lenau; I can understand
-that, though I would not condone it; but to misuse the
-name of Minckwitz as a poet, that, gentlemen of the jury,
-cannot be accounted for otherwise than by presupposing
-complete paralysis of the intellectual functions on the part
-of the accused. My client is a poor, irresponsible creature;
-his mental condition annuls his penalty. Gentlemen of the
-jury, I appeal to your heart. You all have children, rosy-cheeked,
-blooming, happy; imagine what would be your
-grief if one of your children should suddenly lose his reason;
-would you punish that child? No, you would not do so,
-you could not do it, and you will prove it now by fully
-acquitting my unfortunate client!</p>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>Sensation and weeping. Bell.</i>)</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Prisoner, is there anything you have to say
-for yourself?</p>
-
-<p><i>The Accused.</i> Nix.</p>
-
-<p><i>Chairman</i> (<i>recapitulates the proceedings and closes</i>). There<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span>
-are these questions then to be submitted to your judgment—</p>
-
-<p>First: Is the accused guilty of having with malice aforethought
-forged the name of Minckwitz in such manner as
-to thereby injure Professor Minckwitz’s public reputation?</p>
-
-<p>Second: Is the accused sane?</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p class="hang">(<i>The jury retire. After a short time they return, and
-their foreman declares in a strong voice that the
-jury answered both questions unanimously in the
-affirmative. Great excitement. The court solicitor
-repeats his proposition; the defendant does
-the same. After a half-hour’s debate the bell of
-the Chairman is heard.</i>)</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><i>Chairman.</i> Considering that the accused has been convicted
-of the penal offence with which he had been charged,
-considering further that the mental condition of the accused
-gives cause for leniency, the Court sentences the accused to
-the penalty of finding Minckwitz’s poetry excellent reading.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Paul Lindau.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="STUDENTS_SONGS"><i>STUDENTS’ SONGS.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<h3>OLD ASSYRIAN-JONAH.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the Black Whale at Ascalon</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">A man drank day by day,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Till, stiff as any broom-handle</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Upon the floor he lay.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">In the Black Whale at Ascalon</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">The landlord said: “I say,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">He’s drinking of my date-juice wine</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Much more than he can pay!”</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span></p>  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">In the Black Whale at Ascalon</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">The waiters brought the bill,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">In arrow-heads on six broad tiles,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">To him who thus did swill.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">In the Black Whale at Ascalon</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">The guest cried out: “O woe!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I spent in the Lamb at Nineveh</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">My money long ago!”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">In the Black Whale at Ascalon</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">The clock struck half-past four,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">When the Nubian porter he did pitch</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">The stranger from the door.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">In the Black Whale at Ascalon</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">No prophet hath renown;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And he who there would drink in peace</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Must pay his money down.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Joseph Victor Scheffel.</i>
-</p>
-
-<h3>HEINZ VON STEIN.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Out</span> rode from his wild, dark castle,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">The terrible Heinz von Stein:</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">He came to the door of a tavern</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And gazed at the swinging sign.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">He sat himself down at a table,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And growled for a bottle of wine;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Up came, with a flask and a corkscrew,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">A maiden of beauty divine.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then, seized with a deep love-longing,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">He uttered, “Oh, damosell mine,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Suppose you just give a few kisses</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">To the valorous Rotter von Stein.”</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span></p>  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">But she answered, “The kissing business</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Is entirely out of my line;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And I certainly will not begin it</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">On a countenance ugly as thine.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Oh, then the bold knight was angry,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And he cursed both coarse and fine;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And asked: “How much is the swindle</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">For your sour and nasty wine?”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">And fiercely he rode to the castle,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And sat himself down to dine;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And this is the terrible legend</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Of the terrible Heinz von Stein.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>BRIGAND SONG.</h3>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Air</i>—Von Weber’s “Dernière Pensée.”</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">’G giebt kein schönres Leben</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Als das Rauberleben</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">In dem düstern, düstern Wald.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">There’s</span> no life is nobbier</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Than to be a robbier</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">In the gloomy, gloomy, gloomy wood.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Always blood a-drinkin’,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Killin’ folks like winkin’,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Little hinfants murderin’ all we could.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Comes a carriage glidin’,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Or a feller ridin’,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Or a tinker travellin’ with his cram,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then each jovial rover</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Holloas out, “Shell over!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">For your life we do not care a d—n!”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span></p>
-
-<h3>A FARTHING AND A SIXPENCE.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">A <span class="smcap">farthing</span> and a sixpence,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And both of them were mine;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The farthing went for water,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And the sixpence went for wine.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">The landlord and his daughter</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Cry, both of them, “Oh woe!”</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The landlord when I’m coming,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And the daughter when I go.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">My shoes are all in pieces,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">My boots are torn, d’ye see;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And yonder, on the hedges,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">The birds are singing free.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">And if there were no taverns,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">I’d never wish to roam;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And no bung-hole in the barrel,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Then I couldn’t drink at home.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Count Albert von Schlippenbach.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span></p>
-<div class="figcenter illowp94" id="i_308" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_308.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“IN A SWAMP HE FELL—HOW SHOCKING!”</div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>THE TEUTOBURGER BATTLE.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">When</span> the Romans, rashly roving,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Into Germany were roving,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">First of all—to flourish, partial—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Rode ’mid trumps the great field-martial,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Sir Quintilius Varus.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">But in the Teutoburgian forest</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">How the north wind blew and chor-rused;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Ravens flying through the air,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And there was a perfume there</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">As of blood and corpses.</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span></p>  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">All at once, in sock and buskins,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Out came rushing the Cheruskins</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Howling, “Gott and Vaterland!”</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">They went in with sword in hand</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Against the Roman legions.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Ah, it was an awful slaughter,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And the cohorts ran like water;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But of all the foe that day</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The horsemen only got away,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Because they were on horseback!</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">O Quintilius! wretched general,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Knowest thou not that such our men are all?</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">In a swamp he fell—how shocking!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Lost two boots, a left-hand stocking,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And, besides, was smothered.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then, with his temper growing wusser,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Said to Centurion Titiusser,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Pull your sword out—never mind,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And bore me through with it behind,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Since the game is busted.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Scaevolo, of law a student,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Fine young fellow—but imprudent</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">As a youth of tender years,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Served among the volunteers—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">He was also captured.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">E’en his hoped-for death was baffled,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">For ere they got him to the scaffold</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">He was stabbed quite unaware,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And nailed fast <i>en derrière</i></div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">To his Corpus Juris.</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span></p>  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">When this forest fight was over,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Herman rubbed his hands in clover;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And to do the thing up right,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">The Cheruscian did invite</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">To a first-rate breakfast.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">But in Rome the wretched varmints</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Went to purchase mourning garments;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Just as they had tapped a puncheon,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And Augustus sat at luncheon,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Came the mournful story.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">And the tidings so provoked him,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">That a peacock leg half choked him,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And he cried—beyond control—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Varus, Varus! d—n your soul!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Redde legiones!”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">His German slave, Hans Schmidt be-christened,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Who in the corner stood and listened,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Remarked, “Der Teufel take me wenn</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">He efer kits dose droops acain,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">For teat men ish not lifin.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Now, in honour of the story,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">A monument they’ll raise for glory.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">As for pedestal—they’ve done it;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But who’ll pay for a statue on it</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Heaven alone can tell us.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>J. V. Scheffel.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp77" id="i_311" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_311.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“OLD CLO’,—TAKE THEM, THEY ARE THINE!”</div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>THE LAST PAIR OF BREECHES.</h3>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Air</i>—“’Tis the last Rose of Summer.”</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">’Tis</span> my la-a-st pair of bre-e-eches</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Le-e-ft sa-a-dly a-lone;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Ah—and she too with her riches,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">With another hence has gone.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Oh, they seemed in one piece knitted,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Such a pair is seldom matched;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Winter buckskin, how they fitted!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Large plaid pattern, never patched!</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span></p>  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Strutting proudly as a turkey,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">With those breeks I first sailed in;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">In my pocket to the door-key</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Rang such lots of lovely tin.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Ah, we fall as we have risen—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Soon no specie showed its face;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">And the Heidelberg town-prison</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Is a dark and silent place.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Soon I pawned all things worth pawning,—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Dress-coat, frock, and mantle light.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">You too, now, ere morrow’s dawning,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">My last trousers, good—good-night!</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Day of trial, with what sorrow</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Do I feel thy pain at last;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Nothing earthly bides the morrow,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And the pledge-laws travel fast.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">All must go, though strictly hoarded,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Oh, last trousers, last of mine!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Elkan Levi, gloomy, sordid,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Old clo’,—take them, they are thine!</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Boots!—of all my friends the truest,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Come and prop my suffering head;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But one pint, and that of newest,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">May’st thou bring—enough is said!</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then abed, from this sad hour,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">I’ll not rise, though all should ring,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Till a heavy golden shower</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Through the roof comes pattering.</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[313]</span></p>  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then begone, for we must sever;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Greet thy fellows in their cell.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Ah! my legs already shiver;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">My last breeches,—fare ye well!</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>J. V. Scheffel.</i>
-</p>
-
-<h3>ENDERLE VON KETSCH.</h3>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>[This ballad is founded on an incident narrated in the description of
-the Palatinate by Merian (1645), where, speaking of the village Ketsch,
-he tells us that “The Counte Palatine Otto Heinrich, afterwards
-Kurfürst, sailed in the yeere 1530 to the Holie Lande and to Jerusalem.
-Returning thence, hee came over the greate open sea, where a shipp
-from Norwaie mett him, and from it there came this cry: ‘Flye, flye,
-for ye fatt Enderle von Ketsch cometh!’ Now the Counte Palatine
-and his Chancellor Mückenhäuser knew a godless wretche of this name
-who dwelt at Ketsch, and therefore whenn they returned home they
-inquired of ye fatt Enderle and of the tyme of his deathe, and observed
-that itt agreed with the tyme whenn they did heare the crye upon ye
-sea, as whilom a professor of Heidelberg hath narrated in divers
-wrytings which hee left behinde.”]</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp73" id="i_315" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_315.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“THERE A GHOST IN HIS SHIRT-SLEEVES WAS STANDING,
-AND HOWLING A HORRIBLE SONG.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="center"><i>Chorus.</i></div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“<span class="smcap">Away</span>—along! Away—along!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">With trembling, your jaws on the stretch.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Away—along! We sing the song</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Of Enderle von Ketsch!”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="center"><i>Solo.</i></div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Old Heinrich, the Pfalzgrave of Rhine—oh!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Spoke out of a morning, “Rem blem!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">I’m tired of the sour Hock wine—oh!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">I’m off for Jerusalem.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Far lovelier, neater, and nicer</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Are the maids there who give you the cup;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Oh, Chancellor! oh, Mückenhäuser,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Five thousand gold ducats pack up.”</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[314]</span></p>  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">And as before Joppa they anchored,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">The Chancellor held up his hand:</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Now drain to the dregs your last tankard,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">For the ducats are come to an end.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Old Heinrich said, “Well, and no wonder;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Rem blem! what remains to be seen!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">We’ll paddle for Cyprus out yonder,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And make a small raise on the Queen.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">But just as the galley was dancing</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">By Cyprus, in beautiful night,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">A storm o’er the billows came prancing,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">With thunder and flashes of light.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">In a ghastly wild glare, by the landing,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">A black ship came rushing along;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">There a ghost in his shirt-sleeves was standing,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And howling a horrible song.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="center"><i>Chorus.</i></div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Away—along! Away—along!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">With trembling, your jaws on the stretch.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Away—along! I sing the song</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Of Enderle von Ketsch!”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="center"><i>Solo.</i></div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">The thunder grew calmer and wiser,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Like oil lay the water below;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">But oh, the old brave Mückenhäuser</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">The Chancellor felt sorrow and woe.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">The Pfalzgrave stood up by the rudder,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">And gazed on the billowy foam;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Rem blem! all my soul’s in a shudder,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Oh, Cyprus—I travel for home!</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[315]</span></p>  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“God spare me such terrible menace—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">I’m wiser through trial and pain;</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Back, back on our course to old Venice—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">I’ll never borrow money again.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“And he who ’mid heathens at table</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">His cash to the devil has slammed,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Let him hook it in peace while he’s able,—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">It sounds like all hell and be damned!”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>J. V. Scheffel.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[316]</span></p>
-
-<h3>GOD AND THE LOVER.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Then</span> full of longing hieing,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Straight I sought the Father, sighing:</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0"><i>O may I, may I, may I,</i></div>
-    <div class="verse indent0"><i>May I love the girl?</i></div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“You blackguard!” he outswore,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“If you want your back beat sore,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then you may love the girl.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then full of longing hieing,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Straight I sought the good Priest, sighing:</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0"><i>O may I, may I, may I,</i></div>
-    <div class="verse indent0"><i>May I love the girl?</i></div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“My dear son, by my soul,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">If you seek for Hell’s deep hole,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then you may love the girl.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">Then full of longing hieing,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Straight I sought the Lord God, sighing:</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0"><i>O may I, may I, may I,</i></div>
-    <div class="verse indent0"><i>May I love the girl?</i></div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">“My boy,” laughed he, “go take her:</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Why the devil did I make her?—</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">Faith, you may love the girl!”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Old German.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[317]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="UNINTENTIONAL_WITTICISMS_OF_THE"><i>UNINTENTIONAL WITTICISMS OF THE
-ABSENT-MINDED GERMAN PROFESSOR.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the day of Achilles the Greeks had no books except
-Homer.</p>
-
-<p>A panic seized the Persians at Marathon, and crying,
-“Lord Jesus, there are the Athenasians,” they rushed for
-the sea.</p>
-
-<p>Alexander would undoubtedly have subjugated the whole
-of Asia, but he will soon die.</p>
-
-<p>Alexander was poisoned twenty-one years before his
-death.</p>
-
-<p>The death of Alexander was felt by all Asia, but not
-until after his death.</p>
-
-<p>Demetrius was the son of his father, and had an army of
-100,000 Reichsthalers.</p>
-
-<p>Charilaus was born very young.</p>
-
-<p>This is a common incident in Roman history, which,
-however, does not occur often.</p>
-
-<p>Servius came to Rome and was born there.</p>
-
-<p>At the battle of Cannæ the Roman army consisted of
-30,000 men, 20,000 were made prisoners, 40,000 fell, and
-120,000 escaped.</p>
-
-<p>If Cæsar had not crossed the Rubicon there is no knowing
-where he would have gone.</p>
-
-<p>Brutus and Cassius murdered Cæsar in a manner very
-detrimental to his health.</p>
-
-<p>His brother, whom he had caused to be murdered, he at
-last proscribed.</p>
-
-<p>Varus was the only Roman general who succeeded in
-being conquered by the Germans.</p>
-
-<p>Gallus was murdered in the presence of the populace, and
-he met the same fate once more at the hands of an assassin.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[318]</span></p>
-
-<p>Julianus first killed himself, then his father, and then
-himself.</p>
-
-<p>Tacitus says the ancient Germans were as tall as our
-Gardes du Corps.</p>
-
-<p>The Cimbers and Teutons are descended from each other.</p>
-
-<p>Alfons was two years old when he was born.</p>
-
-<p>So did King Alfons surrender the eastern part of his
-career.</p>
-
-<p>Returning from Spain, the roads were so poor that it was
-necessary to take eight waggons to one horse.</p>
-
-<p>Richard III. murdered all his successors.</p>
-
-<p>After the execution of Mary Stuart, Elizabeth appeared in
-Parliament, in one hand a handkerchief, in the other a tear.</p>
-
-<p>It is <span class="err" title="original: unnecessay">unnecessary</span> to say anything about Newton except
-that he died.</p>
-
-<p>Danton was not executed until he had cut his own throat.</p>
-
-<p>To be sure Marat was murdered, but he died first of a
-disease so virulent as to rob him of life.</p>
-
-<p>Maximilian I. had hopes of seeing the throne upon his
-head.</p>
-
-<p>After the battle of Leipsic there were a large number of
-horses that had lost three or four or more legs running
-about without a master.</p>
-
-<p>Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, lived until shortly
-before his death.</p>
-
-<p>Stanislaus was not yet in existence when his father was
-born.</p>
-
-<p>Suwarow marched at so rapid a pace with his army that
-neither the infantry, nor cavalry, nor artillery could keep up
-with him.</p>
-
-<p>The Polish army was beaten by Suwarow because it
-ran away and fled.</p>
-
-<p>A bitter war ensued on page 94.</p>
-
-<p>The earth like all bodies has parallel circles, which intersect,
-and this is mathematical geography.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[319]</span></p>
-
-<p>He drew his sword and shot him.</p>
-
-<p>Gotha is not much farther from Erfurt than Erfurt is from
-Gotha.</p>
-
-<p>I am unable to give you the titles of books about Africa
-just now. I have them in my head, but not on paper.</p>
-
-<p>Among the most excellent products of Egypt the climate
-must be counted.</p>
-
-<p>The sources of the Nile are much farther south than
-where Bruce discovered them.</p>
-
-<p>The eye-sight of the Hottentots is so well developed that
-they can hear the tramp of a horse at an incredible distance.</p>
-
-<p>The walls of Babylon were so broad that four waggons
-could go on top of each other.</p>
-
-<p>North America consists of a great number of large and
-small islands, very few of which are surrounded by water.</p>
-
-<p>When Humboldt ascended Mount Chimborazo he found
-the air so thin that he could not read without glasses.</p>
-
-<p>There is so much coal-smoke in London that even when
-the sun does not shine you cannot see the sky.</p>
-
-<p>There would be far less leather produced by the English
-if they tanned only their own hides.</p>
-
-<p>There are many propositions in mathematics that can
-only be proved by beginning over again.</p>
-
-<p>The theory of parallel lines explains itself, for it tends
-toward infinity.</p>
-
-<p><i>Professor</i>: “That impertinent fellow, Sustorf, must be
-reported.” <i>Pupil</i>: “Herr Professor, his name is not Sustorf;
-it is Thomas.” Professor: “Well, then, we will not
-report him.”</p>
-
-<p>It must strike four soon, for it struck a quarter-to half-an-hour
-ago.</p>
-
-<p>I see a great many pupils who are absent.</p>
-
-<p>If any of you would like to read up this subject, you will
-find something to the point in a book the title of which I
-have forgotten. It is in the forty-second chapter.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[320]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp63" id="i_320" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_320.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“WITH A SINGLE BOUND HE WAS OUTSIDE THE DOOR.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak"><i>THE INCARCERATION OF THE HERR
-PROFESSOR.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">W</span>HEN he got to the hall before the door of the schoolroom,
-the Herr Director heard a tremendous uproar.
-Forty boyish voices were shouting “Encore,” and “Da
-capo!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[321]</span></p>
-
-<p>Professor Samuel Heinzerling began to frown.</p>
-
-<p>Now there was a lull in the wild chorus, and a clear,
-penetrating voice was heard in a tone of absurd magniloquence—</p>
-
-<p>“That will do faw to-day, Heppenheimer. It ith vewy
-evident you’ve come to clath unprepared. I’m vewy much
-put out by thuch conduct. Thit down!”</p>
-
-<p>Thundering applause.</p>
-
-<p>The professor seemed turned to a stone.</p>
-
-<p>By all the gods of Greece, that was his voice, his manner,
-and no mistake. To be sure, there was an exaggeration of
-caricature, but the likeness was so evident that none but a
-connoisseur would be able to distinguish the slight shade of
-difference. It was little short of sacrilege. To think that
-one of his pupils should have the audacity to ridicule him,
-the sovereign authority over all school matters; him, the
-author of “A Latin Grammar for use in schools, specially
-adapted to the higher classes;” him, the renowned follower
-of Kant, from the hallowed heights of his own platform!
-<i>Proh pudor! Honos sit auribus!</i> This was a prank such as
-none but the soul of the arch-rogue Wilhelm Rumpf could
-bring forth.</p>
-
-<p>“Will you take a pathage, Möwicke,” the voice of the
-godless pupil continued. “What, you are indithpothed?
-Deaw me, when I heaw young men of your age thay they
-are indithpothed that lookth ill, it lookth vewy ill indeed.
-Knebel, put down in the clath-book: Möwicke, being called
-upon to tranthlate, wath indithpothed.”</p>
-
-<p>The professor was unable to control his temper longer.</p>
-
-<p>With a sudden movement he opened the door, and
-stepped in among the startled boys.</p>
-
-<p>His intuition had been correct.</p>
-
-<p>It was indeed Wilhelm Rumpf, the greatest good-for-nothing
-the class could boast of, who had committed the
-unpardonable offence against the majesty of his person.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[322]</span>
-For four weeks only this lad had been one of Samuel
-Heinzerling’s pupils, and already there was no scamp in
-class from first to last who did not own his superiority. His
-collar drawn up high in front, an immense pair of paper
-spectacles upon his nose, in his left hand a book, in his
-right the traditional tiny lead-pencil, there he stood upon
-the platform, just about to commit himself further when the
-indignant professor crossed the threshold.</p>
-
-<p>“Wumpf!” said Samuel with dignity, “Wumpf! you
-will go to the <i>cawcer</i><a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> faw two dayth. Knebel, put down
-in the clath-book: Wumpf, condemned to two dayth in the
-<i>cawcer</i> faw childith and unworthy conduct. Heppenheimer,
-call the <i>pedell</i>!”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, Herr Professor,—I did not—I only——” stammered
-Rumpf, putting the paper spectacles in his pocket,
-and walking back to his seat.</p>
-
-<p>“Not another word!”</p>
-
-<p>“I thought——”</p>
-
-<p>“Be thtill, I tell you!”</p>
-
-<p>“But won’t you permit me——”</p>
-
-<p>“Knebel, put down: Wumpf hath one day added to the
-owiginal penalty faw obthtinathy. I am tiwed of fighting it
-out with you. You ought to be athamed to the vewy depth
-of your thoul!”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Andiatur et altera pars</i>, Herr Professor. This is a
-precept to which you have always called our attention!”</p>
-
-<p>“Vewy good! You thall not thay that I am untrue to
-my printhipleth. What have you to thay faw yourthelf?”</p>
-
-<p>“I can only assure you, sir, that it was not my intention
-to do anything disrespectful. I was only exercising myself
-in the art of mimicry.”</p>
-
-<p>“It would have been better to exerthithe yourthelf in Latin
-thtyle and in Greek compothition.”</p>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[323]</span></p>
-<p>“I do that also, Herr Professor. But aside from those
-branches of knowledge, art also has her privileges.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thertainly, I have never denied that. Do you pretend
-to call your nonthenthe, art? It ith an art that you will
-never be able to live on.”</p>
-
-<p>“There’s no knowing, Herr Professor!”</p>
-
-<p>“Be thtill, I tell you! If you go on at this wate you
-will be shipwecked soonaw or lataw in life. Knipke, go
-and see why Heppenheimer doeth not come back with
-the <i>pedell</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, just this once, Herr Professor,” whispered Rumpf
-coaxingly. “You might let me off just this once.”</p>
-
-<p>“No indeed! You go to <i>cawcer</i>. But we will not let
-thith dithagreeable affair intewupt our work. Hutzler, begin
-the wepetition.”</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Professor, I was ill when we translated this. Here
-is my certificate.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed! So you were ill, ath uthual. Do you know,
-Hutzler, it stwikes me that you are oftener ill than well.”</p>
-
-<p>“Unfortunately, Herr Professor, my delicate constitution——”</p>
-
-<p>“Delicate? Eh, delicate? You don’t thay tho, Hutzler!
-I with every man under the sun were ath delicate ath you
-are. Lathy, that’s what you are, but not delicate——”</p>
-
-<p>“Lazy? When I have a high fever you don’t expect me
-to——”</p>
-
-<p>“I know all that! Dare thay you dwank too much beer.
-You twanthlate, Gildemeister.”</p>
-
-<p>“Absent!” cried a number of voices at once.</p>
-
-<p>Samuel shook his head sadly.</p>
-
-<p>“Doeth nobody know what ith the matter with Gildemeister?”</p>
-
-<p>“He has a cold!” replied one of the lads.</p>
-
-<p>“Cold! When I wath hith age I never had a cold. But
-why don’t Knipke and Heppenheimer come back? Schwarz,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[324]</span>
-you go and thee if you can’t find them, but mind you come
-wight back!”</p>
-
-<p>Schwarz went, and returned after ten minutes with the
-<i>pedell</i> and the others.</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Inaddler was occupied with papering his wall,”
-said Heppenheimer in a respectful tone; “he had to change
-his coat.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, indeed! And doeth it take you half-an-hour to do
-that? Inaddlaw, theemth to me you are beginning to neglect
-your offith!”</p>
-
-<p>“I beg your pardon, Herr Professor; the young gentleman
-came to my door just two minutes ago.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” cried three indignant voices.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, it theemth witheth to let thith matter wetht! Here,
-take Wumpf to the <i>cawcer</i>. Wumpf, you will behave yourself
-and not be continually calling the <i>pedell</i> ath you did the
-latht time you were there. Inaddlaw, don’t let anything
-induthe you to let him come out into the hall.”</p>
-
-<p>“Very good, Herr Professor.”</p>
-
-<p>Wilhelm Rumpf bit his lip, turned to go, and disappeared
-with Inaddler in the dim twilight of the hall.</p>
-
-<p>“What is it you did, Herr Rumpf?” asked the <i>pedell</i>
-sympathetically, as they were passing upstairs.</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, but, begging your pardon, you must have done
-<i>something</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>“I only did what the professor does all the time.”</p>
-
-<p>“You don’t say so! How is that?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you just listen to me. Don’t you thee, dear
-Inaddlaw, this fellow Wumpf is a pawfect scapegwace, and
-there ith no penalty severe enough faw him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good gracious!” stammered the <i>pedell</i>, clasping his hands
-above his head. “To think that such things are possible!
-It’s positively uncanny, Herr Rumpf, that it is! Heaven
-knows if I didn’t see you right here before me with my own<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[325]</span>
-eyes I’d swear that it’s the Herr Professor in person whose
-voice I hear this minute. You’ll make your fortune with
-such a gift as that some day, sir. Why, once when I was
-drinking my beer over at Lotze’s there was a magician who’d
-imitate anything you wanted him to, twittering birds and
-neighing horses, barking dogs and ranting priests. But it
-didn’t come up to your performance!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yeth, yeth, dear Inaddlaw! I dare thay you’re wight!”
-replied Rumpf, still continuing in the voice and tone of the
-professor.</p>
-
-<p>“You don’t mean to say you kept this thing up in his
-presence? Well, I must say, Herr Rumpf, there’s a time
-for everything. No wonder the Herr Professor was very
-much put out.”</p>
-
-<p>“Now weally! Do you think tho?”</p>
-
-<p>“I shall have to ask you to stop this now. You see, it’s
-not compatible with the dignity of my office. Will you
-please walk into this room?”</p>
-
-<p>“Thertainly——”</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Rumpf, I shall tell the Herr Professor that your
-punishment is altogether too lenient.”</p>
-
-<p>“What bithiness ith that of yours, you abthurd old
-fellow? I can do what I pleathe.”</p>
-
-<p>“That you cannot do.”</p>
-
-<p>“You will thee that I can. I can talk ath it thuits me,
-and whoever doeth not like it can thtop up hith ears.”</p>
-
-<p>“You wait and see.”</p>
-
-<p>“Wait for what?”</p>
-
-<p>“I shall inform the Herr Professor.”</p>
-
-<p>“Give him my compliments.”</p>
-
-<p>Inaddler turned the key and slowly walked away.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>Inaddler, having done what was incumbent upon him,
-devoted himself lustily to his interrupted occupation. He
-dipped his brush into the tremendous pot of paste and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[326]</span>
-supplied strip after strip of wall paper with the faintly
-fragrant liquid.</p>
-
-<p>Wilhelm Rumpf sat yawning upon the seat of his prison,
-and assured himself in a soliloquy that he was heartily
-sick of the gymnasium and of the uncalled-for restrictions
-of school life.</p>
-
-<p>Herr Samuel Heinzerling scratched his head, pushed his
-large round-eyed spectacles up high on his nose and shook
-his pedagogical head three or four times.</p>
-
-<p>“A mithewable boy, thith fellow Wumpf,” he murmured,
-“but I half believe I could win him by gentler methodth
-more weadily than I can by severity. I will make one more
-attempt to appeal to hith conscienthe. It ith a pity to let him
-go on like thith. He ith one of my motht gifted pupilth!”</p>
-
-<p>He touched the bell.</p>
-
-<p>After two minutes Annie appeared, Inaddler’s daughter.
-She was evidently about to go out, for a tiny hat surmounted
-by feathers was perched jauntily upon her curly
-head.</p>
-
-<p>“What can I do for you, Herr Professor?” she asked with
-a dainty curtsey.</p>
-
-<p>“Where is your father?” whispered Samuel, with a
-remarkably pure pronunciation for him.</p>
-
-<p>“He is papering. Is there anything you wish him to do,
-Herr Professor?”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, he ith papawing. Well, then, I will not dithturb
-him. It ith of no consequenth, Annie; I dare thay the key
-is on the <i>cawcer</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>“I will run and ask, Herr Professor.”</p>
-
-<p>She ran down the stairs like a deer, and was back in a
-few seconds.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir; the keys are on the hall door as well as on
-the cell. Is there anything else?”</p>
-
-<p>“No; I thank you.”</p>
-
-<p>Annie turned to go, while Samuel looked after her with a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[327]</span>
-smile. He passed his hand once or twice over his closely-shaved
-chin, then he took his hat from the table and
-ascended the stairs to the <i>carcer</i>.</p>
-
-<p>Wilhelm Rumpf was greatly surprised when after so short
-a time of imprisonment the door turned on its hinges.
-His astonishment reached its climax when he recognised
-Professor Samuel Heinzerling.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Wumpf?” said that philosopher with dignity.</p>
-
-<p>“What do you wish, Herr Professor?” responded the
-pupil in a tone of resolute obstinacy.</p>
-
-<p>“I have come to athk if you are not beginning to thee
-that thuch puerilenetheth are out of plathe altogether in a
-gymnathium, and that——”</p>
-
-<p>“I am not at all aware of having done——”</p>
-
-<p>“What, Wumpf? I did not expect to find you tho
-thtubborn! I wish you would put yourthelf in my plathe.
-I am sure you would be much more thevere with thith
-unmanageable Wilhelm Wumpf than I have been, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Professor——”</p>
-
-<p>“Surely thuch childish conduct ith not what one would
-expect of a young man of good family. You’d betht be on
-your guard, for the next time I catch you in a thcwape I
-shall expel you!”</p>
-
-<p>“Expel me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Wumpf, expel you. So you would do well to turn
-over a new leaf, and let your dithgratheful nonthenthe go.
-I wepeat it, put yourself in my place!”</p>
-
-<p>Wilhelm Rumpf lowered his head. He felt that his
-expulsion was only a matter of time. Suddenly a diabolical
-thought took possession of his brain.</p>
-
-<p>“If I must get expelled,” he said to himself, “it shall be
-with flying colours.”</p>
-
-<p>He smiled like the villainous hero of a sensational novel
-after some dark deed, and said in a tone of simulated
-humility—</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[328]</span></p>
-
-<p>“You say, sir, I should put myself in your place?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Wumpf, that ith what I thay.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well then, seeing you will have it so,—I wish you much
-pleasure!”</p>
-
-<p>And with a single bound he was outside the door, turned
-the key, and left the poor professor to his deplorable fate.</p>
-
-<p>“Wumpf! what ith thith you are up to? I’ll exthpel
-you thith vewy day! Open the door at onthe! At onthe, I
-thay!”</p>
-
-<p>“I give you two hours’ <i>cawcer</i>,” replied Rumpf with
-dignity. “You told me to put mythelf in your plathe!”</p>
-
-<p>“Wumpf! you will thee what will happen! Open the
-door; I inthitht upon it!”</p>
-
-<p>“You have no wight to talk to me in that tone. Jutht at
-pwethent <i>I</i> am the Herr Profeththor! You are merely the
-pupil Wilhelm Wumpf. Be thtill! I will not bwook
-oppothition!”</p>
-
-<p>“Dear Wumpf! I will fawgive you thith onthe. Pleathe
-open the door like a good fellow. Your penalty shall be a
-vewy slight one. I give you my word faw it, you shall not
-be exthpelled. Do you hear what I thay?”</p>
-
-<p>Dear Rumpf did not hear. He had crept stealthily along
-the hall and was now hastening downstairs to complete his
-escape.</p>
-
-<p>As he was passing the <i>pedell’s</i> door a tempting idea took
-possession of him.</p>
-
-<p>He put his eye to the keyhole. Inaddler was standing
-upon a ladder, his back to the door, and was just attempting
-to put a heavily-pasted strip of paper in place. Wilhelm
-Rumpf just lifted the latch, and called out with the purest
-Heinzerling accent of which he was capable—</p>
-
-<p>“I am going now, Inaddlaw. Keep an eye on that fellow
-Wumpf. The lad is cawying on at a gweat wate. He ith
-thtill keeping up hith impertinent nonthenthe. You keep
-wight on with your work. All I want to thay ith that you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[329]</span>
-are not to open the door faw him on any conthideration.
-The fellow ith quite capable of knocking you down and
-wunning away. Do you hear what I thay, Inaddlaw?”</p>
-
-<p>“Very good, Herr Professor. Excuse me for not getting
-down——”</p>
-
-<p>“Thtay wight where you are, I thay, and finish your
-papawing. Good mawning.”</p>
-
-<p>“Your servant, Herr Professor.”</p>
-
-<p>Wilhelm Rumpf went upstairs again, and once more
-entered the hallowed precincts of the <i>carcer</i>. Samuel Heinzerling
-was raging terribly. Now he seemed to have discovered
-the bell, for just as Rumpf sought refuge behind an
-enormous linen chest belonging to the Inaddler family, it
-resounded shrilly through the hall like the yell of indignant
-demons.</p>
-
-<p>“Help!” moaned the professor. “Help! Inaddlaw; you
-will lothe your plathe thith very day, if you don’t come up
-thith minute! Help! Fire! fire! Murder! Wobbers!
-Help!”</p>
-
-<p>The <i>pedell</i>, recalled to his duty by the uninterrupted
-sound of the bell, left his private occupation and put in an
-appearance before the door of the prison. Deceitful Wilhelm
-Rumpf crept deeper into his hiding-place. Samuel
-Heinzerling, utterly exhausted from calling and crying,
-threw himself down upon his seat. His bosom was palpitating;
-his nostrils worked like a pair of good bellows.</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Rumpf,” said Inaddler, giving a warning knock on
-the door, “look out, I’m making a note of all your doings!”</p>
-
-<p>“The Lord be praithed that you are here, Inaddlaw!
-Open the door, I thay! Thith mithewable thcoundwel hath
-locked me in. Thuch conduct ith unheard of!”</p>
-
-<p>“Let me tell you, Herr Rumpf, you’d better stop your
-joking. You may be quite sure I’ll tell the Herr Professor
-how you called him a miserable scoundrel!”</p>
-
-<p>“Have you lotht your wits, Inaddlaw?” shouted Samuel in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[330]</span>
-a tone of supreme indignation. “The devil! don’t you hear
-me thay how Wumpf, the knave, hath locked me in here when
-I came to thee him, and talk like a father to him! I thay,
-don’t keep me waiting! Open the door at onthe!”</p>
-
-<p>“You must take me to be very stupid, Herr Rumpf. The
-professor was at my door this moment, and has my word for
-it that I won’t let you out. And now I advise you to behave
-yourself, and stop ringing that bell, else I’ll take it down,
-sure as fate!”</p>
-
-<p>“Inaddlaw, I’ll thee to it that you are thent to gaol for
-depriving me of my freedom!”</p>
-
-<p>“Now just you listen to me, will you? It’s positively
-childish this everlasting imitating of the Herr Professor.
-There is no denying that the professor lisps a bit, and pronounces
-his r’s in a funny way, but never so long as I knew
-him was he guilty of such a silly twaddle as you are indulging
-in. And now then, for the last time, all I can say is, be
-quiet, and conduct yourself like a gentleman——”</p>
-
-<p>“But I wepeat to you, upon my honour, that confounded
-scoundwel turned the key behind me, before I knew what he
-wath about! Inaddlaw! Knave, ass! You must know me!
-Have the goodneth to considaw!”</p>
-
-<p>“What? You call me an ass? You call me a knave?
-I’d have you to know it’s a question who is the greatest ass
-or the greatest knave, you or I! Well I never in all my
-born days! The impudence! A green boy like you calling
-an honest old man an ass! You are an ass yourself!
-Do you understand! But you’ll get your deserts!”</p>
-
-<p>“You are an ass and a fool!” moaned Heinzerling in
-despair. “So you wefuse to open the door?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d never think of doing such a thing.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good, vewy good!” groaned the philosopher with a dying
-voice. “Vewy good! I’ll stay wight here in the <i>cawcer</i> then!
-Do you hear, Inaddlaw? Wight here in the <i>cawcer</i>!”</p>
-
-<p>“I am glad to hear you are beginning to come around to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[331]</span>
-common sense. And now I hope you’ll let me alone. I’ve
-no more time to listen to your farce!”</p>
-
-<p>“Inaddlaw!” cried Samuel, getting enraged once more.
-“Hour by hour I’ll thit here, do you understand? Hour by
-hour. Like a thcamp of a thchoolboy I’ll bear the dithgwace
-of it! Do you hear me, Inaddlaw?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m going now. You’d better do your translation.”</p>
-
-<p>“Holy heavens, I’m lothing my weason! Am I cwathy?
-Man, won’t you look through the keyhole. Then at leatht
-you might thee——”</p>
-
-<p>“You don’t catch me. I haven’t forgotten how you blew
-in my eyes the other day!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, go to the devil by all meanths. There’s no
-wawing with such pawverse thtupidity. Just wait till I
-come out of thith. You won’t have thith plathe of <i>pedell</i>
-much longer, I’ll pwomithe you that!”</p>
-
-<p>Inaddler felt his way downstairs in a very ill humour.
-This lad Rumpf was surely the most impertinent fellow he
-had ever come across. An ass did he call him? Thunder
-and lightning! Ever since the decease of Mrs. Inaddler
-the like had not occurred to him——!</p>
-
-<p>These miserable schoolboys!</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile Samuel Heinzerling passed up and down his
-cell with long steps. His whole appearance bore a certain
-resemblance to an African lion condemned to imprisonment
-by human sagacity without losing thereby any of the original
-pride and strength of his noble nature. His hands crossed
-on his back, his head with its grey mane inclined wofully
-toward one shoulder, his lips tightly shut—so he walked
-back and forth, back and forth, the darkest and most
-misanthropic thoughts in his bosom.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly a broad smile flitted across his features.</p>
-
-<p>“Most abthurd thith ith!” he muttered to himself.
-“Weally, though thith ith a very disagweeable affair for me to
-be in, there ith no denying the humour of the thituation——”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[332]</span></p>
-
-<p>He stood still.</p>
-
-<p>“Ith there weally any dithgwace in being outwitted by a
-thchoolboy? Go to, Thamuel! Did not a thelebrated
-king hold the ladder faw a thief to thteal his watch? Wath
-not even Pwince Bithmarck locked in by wuthless hands?
-Not to name a hundred other cases. And thtill hithtory
-treath thith king with rethpect. And thtill Bithmarck hath
-lotht none of hith reputation ath the betht diplomatitht in
-Europe. No, no, Thamuel! Your dignity ath thchool-mathter,
-ath thitizen, ath philothopher, need not thuffer by
-thith mortifying thituation. Retht assured, Thamuel——”</p>
-
-<p>He continued his walk in a self-satisfied mood; but soon
-he interrupted himself anew.</p>
-
-<p>“But thothe boyth!” he stammered, turning pale.
-“When thothe boyth hear how I wath impwithoned at the
-<i>cawcer</i>! Fearful thought! I might ath well give up my
-authowity ath a teacher at onthe. And they <i>will</i> hear it.
-There ith no help faw it! Ye godth, ye godth, why do ye
-thmite me thus?”</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Professor,” whispered a familiar voice at the door
-of the cell, “you are not yet dishonoured. Your authority
-is as unassailable as ever——”</p>
-
-<p>“Wumpf!” muttered Samuel; “you godleth fellow you!
-Open that door, I thay, thith minute! Conthider your
-earth boxed! Conthider yourthelf expelled!”</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Professor, I’ve come to save you! Do not insult
-me!”</p>
-
-<p>“To thave me? What impertinenthe! Open the door,
-or I’ll——”</p>
-
-<p>“Will you hear me speak, Herr Professor? I assure
-you all will end well.”</p>
-
-<p>Samuel considered.</p>
-
-<p>“Vewy well,” he said at last; “I’ll condethend to hear
-you. Thpeak——”</p>
-
-<p>“I only wanted to show you that my art is not quite<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[333]</span>
-without practical import. Forgive me if in doing so I
-have seemingly left out of consideration the very high
-esteem and respect in which I am happily conscious of
-always having held you!”</p>
-
-<p>“You are a wogue, Wumpf!”</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Professor! suppose you dispense me from the
-<i>carcer</i> penalty, withdraw your threat regarding expulsion,
-and permit me to guard the most complete silence over
-what has passed!”</p>
-
-<p>“It would never do, Wumpf. You mutht hold out your
-time——”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes? Well, then, good-bye to you, Herr Professor!
-Don’t ring the bell too often!”</p>
-
-<p>“Wumpf! hear what I thay to you! Wumpf!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well——?”</p>
-
-<p>“You are in many wespects an extwaawdinawy lad,
-Wumpf; and tho I am quite willing to make an extheption
-in your favour,—open the door!”</p>
-
-<p>“Will you dispense me from <i>carcer</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yeth.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you intend to expel me?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, in the devil’th name.”</p>
-
-<p>“Give me your word of honour, Herr Professor!”</p>
-
-<p>“Wumpf, how dare you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Your word of honour, Herr Professor!”</p>
-
-<p>“Vewy good, you have it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Jupiter Ultor is witness.”</p>
-
-<p>“What?”</p>
-
-<p>“I call upon the gods for witnesses.”</p>
-
-<p>“Open the door, I thay!”</p>
-
-<p>“Presently, Herr Professor. You are sure you bear me
-no grudge?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, no, no! <i>Will</i> you open that door?”</p>
-
-<p>“You give me full absolution?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, under the condition that you tell nobody a word<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">[334]</span>
-of your guilty conduct. I have told you that I take you to
-be an extwaawdinawy lad, Wumpf——”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you for your good opinion. My word of
-honour then that so long as you are in your present position
-at the town gymnasium no word shall pass my lips!”</p>
-
-<p>With that he turned the key and opened the door.</p>
-
-<p>Like the king in Uhland’s ballad did Samuel Heinzerling
-step out into the pure air of heaven. He took a deep
-breath; then, brushing his hair from his brow as if trying to
-remember something, he said—</p>
-
-<p>“Wumpf, I can take a joke ath well ath any man; but I
-wish you would do me the favour not to mimic me in
-future. You—you weally do it too well!”</p>
-
-<p>“Your wish is my law!”</p>
-
-<p>“Vewy good! And now you’d betht hathten down to
-the clath-woom. It’th not yet a quarter to—you’ll be just
-in time!”</p>
-
-<p>“But how can I do that, Herr Professor? They all
-know that you have given me three days!”</p>
-
-<p>“Vewy good! I’ll go with you.”</p>
-
-<p>They quickly walked downstairs.</p>
-
-<p>“Inaddlaw!” called the professor into the basement door.</p>
-
-<p>The <i>pedell</i> appeared at once and officiously asked what
-was his behest.</p>
-
-<p>“I have dithpenthed Wumpf fwom his penalty faw sevewal
-weasons,” said Samuel.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah! that is what you came back for. Well, all I wish
-to say is that Herr Rumpf was not at all quiet in his cell.
-It’s none of my business, I suppose, but he shouted and
-swore like a good ’un——”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, never mind, Inaddlaw; I have thpecial motiveth
-faw dealing leniently with him thith time. You may
-wemove the key to the <i>cawcer</i>.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Ernest Eckstein.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">[335]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="OUR_WAR-CORRESPONDENT"><i>OUR WAR-CORRESPONDENT.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE natural and justifiable mistrust which the reading
-public brings to bear upon published reports from
-military headquarters has caused us to send our extra
-special correspondent, Herr Wippchen, whose presence has
-already graced several official festivities at the porter brewery,
-as well as two general assemblies of the architects’ club, to
-be an eye-witness upon the field occupied just now by the
-oriental question.</p>
-
-<p>No sooner was our intention made public than four
-managers of the most renowned life insurance companies
-applied to us, declaring their willingness to insure the life of
-our Wippchen against all the dangers of war upon the most
-reasonable conditions.</p>
-
-<p>Yesterday, at eleven o’clock in the forenoon, Herr
-Wippchen set out on his journey, favoured by the most
-glorious weather. In the evening we had his first report
-from Bernau,<a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> which we here publish:—</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">Bernau</span>, <i>May 3, 1877</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p>After travelling for two hours I arrived here, and in this
-friendly little town I found rooms far from the deafening
-noise of the railway, where I can devote myself with leisure
-to my task. It is my purpose to give you a battle of some
-dimensions every day. Certain it is that the position of
-Bernau is decidedly favourable to my enterprise, for not
-only is it possible to take the train for the battle-field twice
-a day, but also to write to Berlin much more frequently.</p>
-
-<p>On the train it was the opinion of many that the die had
-fallen, and that the temple of Janus would not be sheathed
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">[336]</span>again for weeks to come. Indeed, at the “Kaiserhof,” the
-night before we left, we were quite unanimous about that.</p>
-
-<p>I am sorry to say that I am not supplied with the
-necessary maps. The geography I had when I went to
-school is rather old, and the map of Turkey is partly torn
-out.</p>
-
-<p>It was a capital idea to send me here. There is no denying
-the fact that a war-correspondent should not be constantly
-seen in the streets of the town where his reports are printed.</p>
-
-<p>The most important thing to-day seems to me to be the
-fact that this oriental war is not the first in history. There
-is no denying that there have been several others, none of
-which have ended with the annihilation of Russia or Turkey.
-Both arose again like Aphrodite out of the ashes.</p>
-
-<p>To be sure, Russia says the beard of the prophet must
-be shaved from the earth, because Turkey persecutes and
-torments Christianity. But how if Turkey should suddenly
-turn and say that in Russia too the Christians sigh under
-the bed of Procrustes, and that the lash of civilisation must
-be applied to the Russians! What then?</p>
-
-<p>And as for England, there is no denying that England
-will never look on and permit the aggrandisement of Russia
-from without. But with all its Armada it will never be
-able to hinder its aggrandisement within.</p>
-
-<p>Where is Ariadne’s thread to guide us out of the Scylla
-of this Augean stable?</p>
-
-<p>I enclose my first letter from the battle-field, and at the
-same time I would ask you to send me a couple of those
-new gold 5-mark pieces, which the inhabitants of Bernau
-are curious to see.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">Leowa</span>, <i>April 24</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p>Rosy-fingered Eos had but just struck five when I
-arose from the naked earth and betook myself to the
-Pruth to see the Russian troops cross it. There is no denying
-that there may have been about 13,000 men; Tschetschentians,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">[337]</span>
-Svanetians, Zaporopian Kossaks, Lesghians,
-mostly adults, were all marching towards Glatz. They sang
-a song which I should like to call “The Watch on the
-Pruth.” When General Strobelew saw me he declared me
-to be a spy, and condemned me to the knout for life. At
-that, of course, I turned my back upon him; but even as I
-did it, I lay upon the bench, and two Kossaks raised the
-knout of Damocles above me to execute the stroke of death,
-when the general declared I should be let off this once with
-a black eye. One of the Kossaks proceeded to strike me
-one, and the general shook my hand heartily, assuring me
-that soon no Christian should sigh at the hands of the Turk.
-I saluted him by laying two fingers of my right hand upon
-my injured eye, and the general turned to continue his way.</p>
-
-<p>The Roumanians who had hastened to the spot to witness
-the passage of the Pruth cursed with ringing hurrahs, and
-waved their hats with clenched fists.</p>
-
-<p>I hastened to Kars, where there is a skirmish going on.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">Batum</span>, <i>April 26</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p>The Russians and Turks had pitched into each other
-near Batum. I stood upon a pile of corpses where I had
-a good view. The Turks struck to the right and left with
-such vehemence that all their crooked swords were soon
-fully straightened out. The Russians did not wait to be
-told twice, and knew no mercy. The thunder of the
-cannons was terrible. Boom! boom! only a good deal
-louder. Ill-luck would have it that I came to stand right
-between a Russian and a Turk, and they both shot at me at
-the same moment. I stooped down quickly, and both fell
-down lifeless, each having been pierced by the other’s ball.
-It was a marvellous escape. The scythe of Charon spared
-me by a miracle, as it were.</p>
-
-<p>For hours the battle raged. Finally it was left undecided.
-The Russians, as well as the Turks, were victorious.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">[338]</span>
-Exhausted with hardships, and with the display of courage,
-I at last fell asleep upon a drum, and did not awake until a
-Russian beat the retreat upon me. <i>C’est la guerre!</i></p>
-
-<p>Soon there will be more or less more.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">To Herr Wippchen at Bernau.</span></p>
-
-<p>Since the 3rd you have not sent us a single skirmish, for
-we presume you do not expect us to look upon your request
-for a further remittance, with which we unfortunately complied,
-in the light of a war report. You seem to take the
-oriental complication as an opportunity to live in the
-country at our expense. Do you think this is acting like
-our own correspondent? If so, you mistake. If we do not
-receive one of the bloodiest battles by return post, we shall
-look about for another war-correspondent. It was only
-yesterday that one of the profession offered his services,
-declaring his readiness to furnish us with war at 5-pfennige
-a line. We wish to bring this to your notice, saluting you
-in the firm expectation of a desperate conflict.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-Yours cordially,<br>
-
-<span class="smcap">The Editor</span>.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-<span class="smcap">Paris</span>, <i>May 14, 1878</i>.<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>Here I sit in my cosy <i>pro doma</i>, which I have rented
-with my hard-earned savings on the bulwarks of the temple
-(<i>Boulevard du Temple</i>). It was so hot at the exhibition that
-it seemed as if Helios had poured out all the tropics upon
-it, and when at last I turned to leave I found that all the
-cabs were filled with weary visitors.</p>
-
-<p>The soirée at Minister Waddington’s was a very brilliant
-affair. The entire aristocracy and plebeocracy of Paris was
-present. Especially the Prince of Wales. He looks for all
-the world exactly like his mother. When I was presented
-to him, he at once got entangled in a lengthy toast. It is
-well known that the prince is a connoisseur in delicately<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">[339]</span>
-done slices of bread. He closed with the words, “In this
-sense I seize the empty glass and fill it to the alliance
-between Germany and England.” I answered with, “God
-save the Queen,” in which I joined with fervour. I then
-added, “In this toast every German will join so long as he
-calls his soul his own upon this terrestrial globe.”</p>
-
-<p>“To be, or not to be,” replied the prince, and thereupon
-he toasted on the alliance between England and the
-terrestrial globe. I recommended the prince to the favour
-of heaven, whereupon he toasted the alliance between
-England and heaven. He then joined other groups, and
-toasted every one of them. Presently he left the soirée, not
-without having favoured the footman in the ante-chamber,
-who helped him on with his overcoat, with a toast. When
-he was in his carriage, he was overheard to pronounce
-several toasts to the Paris vehicles, the driver, the moon
-and stars, and the institution of street-gas.</p>
-
-<p>No wonder the prince is very popular in Paris society!</p>
-
-<p>Yesterday His Serenity the Shah left. A few hours before
-his departure I saw him at the exhibition standing before a
-piece of soap (<i>savon</i>). “How much is this letter-weight?”
-he inquired, and thereupon bought it.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Julius Stettenheim.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="SCHNORPS_SWALLOW-TAIL"><i>SCHNORPS’ SWALLOW-TAIL.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">H</span>E played the bass viol in the orchestra of the
-theatre.</p>
-
-<p>The bass viol had come to be the hereditary instrument
-for all the male members of the Schnorps family, who were
-invariably musical, and I remember an anecdote from the
-life of Aegidius Schnorps, the grandfather of my hero, which
-well deserves to be handed down to posterity.</p>
-
-<p>Of course Aegidius played the hereditary instrument.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">[340]</span>
-But he did not play it at the Royal Theatre; he had not
-yet arrived at such distinction. Instead of that he was a
-member of a rather obscure band which used to gather its
-laurels at country dances on Sundays and special holidays.
-The leader was supposed to furnish the bass viol, but the
-Schnorpses had always had their own instrument, and prided
-themselves not a little upon this family possession. Although
-the peasants were not at all particular about any involuntary
-variations that might perchance find their way into the tune,
-for ’tis easy to pipe to those that want to dance, it so
-happened that one day Father Aegidius produced tones of
-such singular impurity that the leader, whose week-day occupation
-was that of an honest shoemaker, called out, greatly
-enraged, “Confound you, Aegedi, why don’t you play right?”
-“Hold your tongue, shoemaker!” replied the indignant
-Schnorps. “I can play as I please; this bass belongs to
-me.”</p>
-
-<p>Ah yes, they were always very self-sufficient, were the
-Schnorpses, and had little respect for the rest of the world.
-They were always trying to force their square heads through
-thick and thin.</p>
-
-<p>After Aegidius came Sebastian Schnorps, who of course
-also devoted himself to the grumbling bass, and who was
-gathered unto his fathers in the very midst of his professional
-activity, inasmuch as he and his instrument fell down
-together from a high ladder, by means of which he had
-intended to reach a place in a barn which should furnish
-him the necessary acoustic conditions for evolving seraphic
-tones, and properly affecting the crowd of dancing peasants
-beneath him.</p>
-
-<p>Peace be unto his ashes!</p>
-
-<p>After him came Gottlieb Schnorps, the man who is to
-occupy our attention to-day. It were really needless to say
-that the hereditary proclivity had come down to him, if it
-were not incumbent upon me to do justice to him by mentioning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">[341]</span>
-the fact that he was a musician of a better sort
-than his ancestors. He had worked his way up from a
-country fiddler, had studied a little, and though in his
-general manner and bearing he had remained true to the
-family traditions of the Schnorpses, he had struck out a new
-path in going to see something of the world, and one day he
-came back with the contract of a court engagement in his
-pocket, and with a wife whom the dear God must have
-created for his special convenience, so well were her characteristics
-adapted to his.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>They arranged their life as they thought best. Either he
-quarrelled with his wife or she with him, or both of them
-with the children, or the latter among each other—between
-times the bass viol grumbled, for Schnorps was always hard
-at work developing his musical faculties—in short, their
-home life was a lively one.</p>
-
-<p>If Schnorps had only been a little neater in his personal
-appearance!—but in this respect he did little honour to the
-Royal Orchestra. His shabbiness had grown proverbial.
-He had a special predilection for an enormous cravat to
-conceal the doubtful purity of his linen from the eyes of the
-curious. His coat was seldom brushed, and the lower part
-of his coat-sleeves shone like a mirror.</p>
-
-<p>The pride of his heart was a dress-coat, which he donned
-only on extraordinary occasions. He had brought himself
-to purchase this piece of wearing apparel only by dint of the
-rigorous etiquette of the Royal Theatre, which authoritatively
-demanded the use of a dress-coat on certain days. It never
-occurred to him to have a new one, and he wandered
-from junk-shop to junk-shop until he found a specimen at
-Solomon Hoffa’s, which he purchased for one thaler and
-some odd groschens, and which he thereafter wore to the
-horror of all respectable people, and to the annoyance of the
-entire orchestra.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">[342]</span></p>
-
-<p>It was really too shabbily old-fashioned. In fact, it was a
-disgrace to the corporation. The collar was of such goodly
-size as to almost completely hide the square head of
-Schnorps; the sleeves were so tight that Gottlieb could
-only with difficulty properly belabour his bass viol, and the
-broad tails stood out like the arms of a windmill from the
-lank legs of the wearer.</p>
-
-<p>One morning he received a formidable-looking square
-letter, with the well-known official green seal, in which he
-was notified in the politest of language, but with all possible
-decision, that when taking part in the orchestra in future he
-was to appear in a coat which was more in harmony with
-the dignity of a Royal Theatre, and less likely to excite the
-risibility of the audience.</p>
-
-<p>This left no room for doubt, it was certainly plain enough.
-Schnorps raged—talked about tyranny, interference with
-personal freedom, scolded his wife, and flogged all the
-young Schnorpses; but there was no help for it—the acquisition
-of a new coat loomed upon the horizon as an inexorable
-necessity.</p>
-
-<p>And now occurred what had never occurred before. For
-several days in succession the townspeople saw the bass
-violinist Schnorps and his spouse walk about from one
-clothing shop to another. In each one they entered into
-lengthy negotiations, only to pass on after a time grumbling
-and scolding about the outrageous prices, until at last the
-firm of J. M. Lindenfeld had the good fortune to come to
-terms with Herr and Frau Schnorps about a new and handsome
-swallow-tail coat.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp74" id="i_343" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_343.jpg" alt="">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">[343]</span>
-  <div class="caption">“IT WAS A DISGRACE TO THE CORPORATION.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“I’ll tell you what, Sally,” said the bass violinist one
-day to his better-half; “though I’ve been forced by pure
-tyranny to spend a sinful lot of money on that new dress-coat,
-there’s no earthly reason why I shouldn’t get all the
-good I can out of the old one. I wish you’d just send for
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">[344]</span>old Peter and tell him to make Michel a jacket out of it; it
-will last the boy many a year.”</p>
-
-<p>Old Peter was a tailor whose chief art lay in mending and
-patching up old garments, and Michel was the eldest sprout
-and heir pretendent to the bass viol of the Schnorpses.</p>
-
-<p>The tailor came, made a very close and conscientious
-examination of the old swallow-tail by the aid of a pair of
-enormous horn spectacles, and finally declared, with great
-decision, that the article in question had had its day, and
-that there was not the slightest possibility of renovating it.</p>
-
-<p>This was a terrible shock for Schnorps, for Peter’s
-judgment was considered quite incontrovertible, and when
-there was anything to be made out of an old garment he did
-it. This he had proved time and time again in the wardrobe
-of the Schnorpses. So there was nothing for it but to
-stow away the old dress-coat among other venerable relics,
-and it might have stayed there to this day if Frau Sally
-Schnorps had not hit upon a brilliant plan.</p>
-
-<p>Hoods were quite the fashion just then, and why not
-make a hood out of a dress-coat? It might be trimmed
-with a quantity of ribbons and laces to conceal the shabbiness
-of the cloth, which latter could still further be improved
-upon by being turned. She was very proud of this idea,
-and forthwith called upon a deaf old seamstress, who often
-worked for her, and who was quite noted for her stupidity,
-but aside from that was a poor, unassuming woman who
-patiently worked for her living without expecting any
-generous remuneration. This last quality had served to
-gain her the good will of Frau Schnorps, into the mysteries
-of whose housekeeping she was thoroughly initiated.</p>
-
-<p>She came and found the wife of the bass violinist at the
-door, about to go out, while Schnorps was rehearsing for the
-opera. In brief words Frau Sally explained to her that in
-the big wardrobe upstairs there was a dress-coat of her
-husband’s which was quite worth the trouble of making over,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">[345]</span>
-and which she wished to be metamorphosed into a hood for
-herself.</p>
-
-<p>“Very well, very well, I’ll see to it all right, Frau
-Schnorps,” replied the old woman; and while Frau Sally
-Schnorps went to market, her mind quite at rest, she entered
-the house where the youngest of the Schnorpses, who had
-been left to guard the domestic hearth, handed over the
-dress-coat, which she thereupon took home to “make over.”
-And she did it. When she came back, after a day or two,
-the old dress-coat had become a new head-covering, which,
-to be sure, was rather heavily decorated with lace and
-various trimmings, but for this very reason exactly suited the
-taste of Madam Schnorps. It is true, her husband said,
-that now you could see that the dress-coat had really not
-been so bad, and that the money which went for the new
-one might have been put to some better use, but there was
-no use crying over spilt milk, the tyrannical intendant had
-decreed that it should be so, and he philosophically added&#160;—</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“For every evil under the sun</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">There is a remedy or there’s none.</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">If there is one, try and find it,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">If there isn’t, never mind it.”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin">When autumn came the wife of the musician walked forth
-proudly in her new hood, and about the same time her
-husband received an invitation to spend the evening at the
-house of an old general, who was a great lover of music,
-and famous for his bachelor’s suppers, which added a great
-attraction to his musical evenings. The old gentleman had
-a high opinion of Gottlieb Schnorps as a musician, and
-would have liked to ask him long ago, but he had never
-been able to bring himself to do so on account of Schnorps’s
-shabbiness, and the bass violinist was indebted for this
-invitation chiefly to his new coat.</p>
-
-<p>Schnorps was highly elated to receive it, and his mouth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">[346]</span>
-watered at the thought of all the culinary delights which
-would await him after the music.</p>
-
-<p>When the auspicious day came he devoted an unusual
-amount of care and attention to his toilet. Although it was
-only Thursday, he permitted himself the luxury of a clean
-shirt, bought himself—and this was the rarest of extravagances—a
-pair of white cotton gloves, even went so far as to
-brush his black trousers with a certain amount of energy,
-a thing he never did on ordinary occasions, so as not to
-wear out the cloth.</p>
-
-<p>“Get my dress-coat out, Sally,” he said in the evening,
-and she went upstairs in obedience to his behest.</p>
-
-<p>Now it was that something horrible occurred!</p>
-
-<p>As Schnorps’s spouse opened the door of the wardrobe
-and put her hand in behind all the ancestral garments,
-she screamed aloud, for there, like a ghost of bygone days,
-the old swallow-tail grinned at her in the full glory of its
-invulnerable perfection. She turned it about again and
-again, and thought she was losing her reason—there was not
-a particle of doubt of it, it was undeniably the same coat
-which she had fondly believed she had been wearing on her
-head in the elaborated and decorative shape of a new hood.
-In wild excitement she turned the contents of the wardrobe
-topsy-turvy; trousers and coats were flung about to the right
-and to the left, but there was no vestige to be seen of the
-new dress-coat, and with convincing force the certainty came
-to her that the stupid old seamstress had cut up the new
-garment instead of the old to manufacture her head-gear
-therefrom.</p>
-
-<p>So that was the reason it looked so well! Ah, now
-everything was clear.</p>
-
-<p>“If Schnorps gets wind of this he’ll murder me,” sighed
-Frau Sally, and so much was certain, this affair must be
-hushed up for the time being.</p>
-
-<p>But how was she to accomplish this?</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">[347]</span></p>
-
-<p>She glanced out of the window at the neighbouring house,
-and a saving idea flitted through her mind. Stealthily she
-crept downstairs and out at the back door, and hastily
-entering the house across the way she poured out the sad
-tale of her misfortunes into the sympathetic ear of her
-neighbour, imploring her to help her out of her difficulties
-by lending her the dress-coat of her husband just for this
-one night.</p>
-
-<p>The good-natured woman was easily won, and an hour
-later Schnorps, happily unconscious of the state of affairs, and
-attired in his neighbour’s dress-coat, was on his way to the
-general, the servant of the latter walking behind him and
-dragging along his heavy bass viol.</p>
-
-<p>The coat was somewhat tight, which fact caused its wearer
-to remark, as he was putting it on, that he was really growing
-stout in spite of his moderate way of living.</p>
-
-<p>Poor innocent Schnorps!</p>
-
-<p>The musical performance had passed off greatly to the
-satisfaction of the old general, and the ensuing excellent
-supper was no less to the satisfaction of his guests. The
-bass violinist indulged himself most freely in the good things
-set before him, and manifested a degree of steady perseverance
-as if he had fasted for a fortnight to fitly prepare himself
-for this special feast. He left nothing undone, plateful
-after plateful vanished, one glass of delicious wine after
-another disappeared in the bottomless pit of his eating
-apparatus, and whenever he thought himself unobserved he
-helped himself freely to generous handfuls of sweets, depositing
-them in the voluminous pockets of his dress-coat.</p>
-
-<p>Ah, he was a kind father, when he had nothing to lose
-thereby, and he was quite willing to be a bringer of dainties
-to his dear ones at home.</p>
-
-<p>The guests remained until very late, and of course
-Schnorps was the last to go. It was somewhere near two in
-the morning when he reeled home in a condition which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">[348]</span>
-really put every well-intentioned cab-driver under the moral
-obligation of turning out for him.</p>
-
-<p>Arrived at the door of his house, he indulged in some profoundly
-philosophical reflections about the preposterous size
-of keys, and the smallness of the corresponding keyholes—so
-profound, in fact, that he sat for a long, long time upon
-the stone-steps, his head buried in his hands, and his eyes
-closed, until at dawn a cool breath of air roused him from
-his meditations, so that he rose shivering and passed into
-the house.</p>
-
-<p>After several hours of refreshing sleep he awoke in no very
-enviable condition. He looked about him with wondering
-eyes, and suddenly he opened them to abnormal width as if
-to pierce the object upon which they fell.</p>
-
-<p>It was the new swallow-tail. Merciful heavens, how it
-looked! During his <i>siesta</i> on the door-steps he had sat
-upon the cream-filled candies he had in his pocket, and the
-mixture of chocolate, sugar, and fruit had formed into a sticky
-crust on the tails of his coat which was truly horrible to
-behold.</p>
-
-<p>The bass violinist jumped out of bed at a single
-bound, and examined the luckless coat, which in the very
-flower of its youth had been called upon to endure such
-hardships.</p>
-
-<p>“When my old woman sees that, there’ll be a row,” he
-muttered, passing his hand desperately through his bristling
-locks. He seized a brush and began to belabour the
-swallow-tail with an amount of energy such as he had
-never before displayed; but although his perseverance was
-rewarded by the disappearance of some of the smaller stains,
-the large blurs which had been caused by the crushed
-chocolate-drops would yield to no amount of brushing, the
-less so as they were still moist, and by rubbing acquired a
-more formidable appearance.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile he heard his wife beginning to stir in her room,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">[349]</span>
-and poor terrified Schnorps, who at times quaked in his
-shoes before his fair spouse, puzzled his head to find some
-remedy for his trouble. Suddenly it occurred to him that
-years ago he had bought a bottle of benzine which he knew
-must be somewhere in his room.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp72" id="i_349" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_349.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“HE SEIZED A BRUSH AND BEGAN TO BELABOUR THE SWALLOW-TAIL.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>He found a dozen bottles on top of the wardrobe, but how
-was he to know which was the one he wanted? He rummaged
-until he discovered one at the sight of which the
-certainty dawned within his dizzy brain that this was it. He
-spread out the unfortunate coat upon the table, poured a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">[350]</span>
-generous supply of the liquid supposed to be benzine upon
-it, and was about to rub it in with his handkerchief when a
-horrible sight appeared before him.</p>
-
-<p>Wherever a drop of the fluid had fallen, the cloth turned
-red; and before the perplexed violinist could find an
-explanation for this remarkable metamorphosis, there
-appeared upon the coat an infinite number of large
-and small holes which sealed its doom for now and
-eternity.</p>
-
-<p>It so happened that instead of benzine, Schnorps had
-laid hold of a bottle of sulphuric acid, which he had once
-used to clean the screws of his instrument.</p>
-
-<p>When he realised what had happened, he certainly
-expected to go mad, and he weakly fell back in his chair,
-gazing fixedly upon his murdered swallow-tail. His head
-whirled—the new coat—his wife—the 15 thalers—the intendant—sulphuric
-acid—all was swallowed up in one wild
-eddy, and it was some time before he regained any self-possession.</p>
-
-<p>Ye saints! it would never do to have his wife get hold of
-this! The first thing to do was to remove the article in
-question. Hastily he dressed himself, slipped on his felt
-slippers, hid the dress-coat beneath his dressing-gown, and
-stealthily crept upstairs, where he hid it, with many misgivings,
-in the utmost depths of the old wardrobe.</p>
-
-<p>It was high time, for when he came back his better-half
-appeared upon the scene. Never had she inspired him with
-such terror as at this moment, and yet never since the days
-of their honeymoon had he bidden her good-morning as
-tenderly as he did to-day. She too was unusually amiable,
-a fact which only weighed the more upon his guilty
-conscience.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, did you have a pleasant evening?” she asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh yes, very nice—yes—quite nice!” he replied, in an
-embarrassed tone of voice.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">[351]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Oh, indeed!” she said, glancing about her as if she
-were looking for something, which caused poor Schnorps to
-tremble again.</p>
-
-<p>“What are you looking for, dear?”</p>
-
-<p>She gazed at him in surprise. Dear? He had only called
-her so once before, and that was when he asked her if she
-would have him.</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing—that is—where’s your new coat?”</p>
-
-<p>“The coat,” he answered, shaking in his shoes; “what do
-you want it for?”</p>
-
-<p>“I should like to put it away,” she said very gently.</p>
-
-<p>“You needn’t do that. I put it where it belongs.”</p>
-
-<p>“Where it belongs?” she asked in great excitement.</p>
-
-<p>“Why yes,” replied Schnorps; “upstairs in the wardrobe.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, so,” she remarked, greatly relieved—“in the wardrobe!
-Yes, yes! Well, come and have your breakfast,
-Gottlieb; I am coming down in a minute.”</p>
-
-<p>With these words she walked out, and now it was
-Schnorps’ turn to take a deep breath of relief.</p>
-
-<p>He finished dressing and gradually became more tranquil—but
-it was the tranquillity that precedes a mighty storm.</p>
-
-<p>The reader can readily imagine what followed.</p>
-
-<p>After a pause of ten minutes, the shrill voice of Frau
-Sally rang through the house in a manner which made all
-the inmates start and tremble. Intending to return the
-borrowed coat to its rightful possessor, she had discovered
-the catastrophe, and raged like a lunatic.</p>
-
-<p>At first Schnorps tried to defend himself and to comfort
-her, but when he began to understand all the details and
-complications of the hapless tale,—when he heard that he
-had ruined his neighbour’s coat, and that his own had long
-ago gone to perdition by means of his wife’s thoughtlessness
-and the old seamstress’s stupidity, then his wrath knew no
-bounds.</p>
-
-<p>It was really too much. To have to pay for <i>two</i> new<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">[352]</span>
-dress-coats, and to have none! it was death to him, it would
-bring him to an untimely grave.</p>
-
-<p>I will cast the mantle of Christian charity over the ensuing
-scene; but to this day the neighbours talk about the row
-that took place at the house of the Schnorpses after the
-general’s party.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Fritz Brentano.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_MAN_OF_ORDER"><i>THE MAN OF ORDER.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">S</span>O far as I am concerned, I must confess that I am not
-greatly interested either in painted Empresses, or in
-Cardinals, or in Pashas. My attention was riveted upon a
-lank, lean man, who must have been of unusual length when
-he was standing up, a man with white hair and a grey
-beard, round blue glasses before his eyes, beneath them a
-nose shaped like a potato, and a thin-lipped mouth drawn
-down at the corners in a sardonic smile. On his head
-there was a straw hat, the brim of which was of a width
-such as I had never before met with. This person sat upon
-a camp-stool, holding with his left hand a parasol lined with
-green over the afore-mentioned straw hat, and with his
-right hand guiding a small telescope screwed to a stick,
-which was fastened in the ground. There is no need to
-say that the ruler and guider of this telescope was reconnoitring
-the châlet across the way. What pleased me best
-was the fussiness, the apparatus, and the intensity of research
-which served the man’s curiosity. Surely this was
-the last of the Mohicans, one of the last original characters
-which are disappearing more and more out of the insipid
-level of our most modern mediocrity and uniformity. Who
-was the man? The dear old village of Ragaz has, by no
-means to the delight of everybody, grown into a “fashionable”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">[354]</span>
-resort, and one meets queer enough figures there every
-summer. But one like the man with a telescope and camp-stool,
-who had improvised an observatory on the spur of the
-moment, is an exotic plant, even in the Ragaz of to-day,
-and is well worth the trouble of observation.</p>
-
- <div class="figcenter illowp52" id="i_353" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_353.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“WHO WAS THE MAN?”</div>
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">[353]</span>
-</div>
-
-<p>What a pity, I thought, that Amadeus Hoffmann is no
-more among the living, or Edgar Poe. For either of them
-this fellow would have been a find.</p>
-
-<p>Gradually the spectators dispersed, as neither the empress,
-who had been turned out of her empire, nor the cardinal, who
-had taken the hint that he was superfluous, condescended
-to show themselves, and as it was getting rather dull to gaze
-upon the red fez of the pasha, which was just visible above
-the railing of the verandah at the right. At last there were
-only two left: the telescope man, who continued his
-observations, and my worthy self observing the obdurate
-observer.</p>
-
-<p>Finally, we both accomplished our purpose—he in seeing
-Madonna Eugenia and the Prince-Cardinal leave the house
-in quick succession, I in being a witness to the geometrical
-correctness with which the discoverer took down his
-observatory.</p>
-
-<p>His motions were as measured as if he felt it incumbent
-upon him to keep time to the music of the spheres. His
-very manner of getting up showed a man who never puts
-one foot before the other without having incontestably
-assured himself where he was about to tread. When his
-long bony figure had drawn itself out to its full length his
-first object was to see clearly. For this purpose he
-cautiously removed his spectacles from his potato-shaped
-nose and wiped the large, round blue glasses emphatically
-with a piece of soft leather he produced out of his right vest-pocket.
-Having put back the piece of leather and the
-spectacles to their original place, he commenced the work of
-packing up, without haste and without delay. At first the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">[355]</span>
-telescope was unscrewed, reduced to its smallest dimensions,
-wiped on all sides with a large red silk handkerchief, and
-enclosed in a leather case, out of which he had carefully
-blown the dust, and which he now laid down gently
-upon the camp-stool. Hereupon he pulled out the stick
-which had served as a holder for his telescope until now, but
-which, upon nearer acquaintance, proved to be a perfect
-miracle, a very encyclopædia of a stick, so to say. It was
-evidently the pride and joy of its happy possessor. There
-could be no doubt of that from the satisfaction with which
-he touched the various springs of the complicated apparatus
-to display the countless metamorphoses which made the
-stick appear in turn as a common cane, as an umbrella, as a
-hoe, as a geological hammer, as a pocket-dagger, as a candle-snuffer,
-as a reading-desk, as a corkscrew, as a cup, as a
-chisel, as an inkstand, and as various other things. At last
-I should really not have been surprised if this Chinese
-puzzle had suddenly put on the garb of a speaker in
-Parliament.</p>
-
-<p>The man could read open admiration, the most unselfish
-of human sympathy, from my countenance, and consequently
-felt impelled to say, as he pointed to his stick,
-having reduced it to its most primitive form: “It is the
-result of five years of theoretic studies and three years of
-practical constructive experiments. Ay, sir, with genius
-and order one can accomplish some pretty good things
-upon this disorderly earth.”</p>
-
-<p>With that he leaned his miraculous staff carefully against
-a tree, buckled his telescope-case to a broad strap which
-hung across his right shoulder like a bandoleer, took up
-his camp-stool, devoted himself assiduously to reducing it to
-infinitesimal dimensions, and buckled the object, which in
-its present shape no person would ever have suspected of
-being a chair, to his strap. He then took up his encyclopædic
-stick, lightly pricked the ground with the point, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">[356]</span>
-remarked, in the full consciousness of work well done:
-“All’s in order! Cardinal, Pasha, Ex-empress, all done
-up in good order.”</p>
-
-<p>“Heilige Ordnung, segensreiche,” I began, quoting
-Schiller.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir; that is the wisest word ever the immortal
-Marbach sage pronounced. To say that, he must have
-been a man of order himself. And that he was so is
-proved to-day by his printed note-book. Unfortunately
-his collection of pill-bills has not yet been published. Nor
-Goethe’s Rhine-wine bills. Neither, I am sorry to say,
-have we as yet any printed proofs of the number of pipe-lighters
-which were twisted for Johann Heinrich Voss by
-his prudent housewife Ernestine. At the same time I
-must admit that gradually we are reducing our history of
-literature to something like order. There is nothing like
-a basis of scientific research. This alone will bring light
-into chaos. When we have once succeeded in establishing
-the relation of Goethe’s digestion to his poetic production,
-then we may set to work to discover the relation of the
-first part of <i>Faust</i> to the second. Happily there are men
-living and working who know that the so-called minutiæ
-and bagatelles of life are in reality the most important
-things. I know a Leipsic professor who has brought
-together scientific proof to show that true literature is
-that which has been contemptuously dubbed waste-paper-basket-literature.
-I know another Alexandrian ditto of
-Leipsic who is to edit a work which his friends have
-signalled in advance as about to create a new epoch in
-literature, the title of which will be, ‘The Wash-bills of
-our Classic and Romantic Poets, being a Collection of
-Records and Documents for a Prospective Inductive
-Analytical History of German Literature of the Eighteenth
-and Nineteenth Centuries.’ I know a third Byzantian of
-Leipsic, who plans to bring the art of writing diplomatic<span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">[357]</span>
-history up to the acme of perfection. He has made the
-different kinds of snuff which Frederick the Great indulged
-in the objects of his preliminary investigations, in order to
-be able to furnish proof of the effect which each individual
-sort had upon the brain-nerves of said Frederick, and
-consequently upon the destiny of the human race. Do
-you see, sir, that is what I call a truly scientific spirit, a
-healthy realism that, a spirit of sterling accuracy! Three
-groans for anything like disorder! It is incredible what a
-mischief-maker disorder is in these days! There was a
-fellow the other day had the audacity to spell Goethe
-G-ö-t-h-e throughout an entire book! Would you believe
-it? Fortunately he got his fingers whacked right heartily
-with the academical rattan. ‘Göthe’! what do you think
-of it? Of course it is idiotic in German to write the
-diphthongs <i>ä</i>, <i>ö</i>, <i>ü</i> as if they were <i>æ</i>, <i>œ</i>, <i>ue</i>—I’ll admit
-that, and I dare say Goethe himself would to-day save
-himself the trouble of putting in the extra <i>e</i>, but the orthography
-of G-o-e-t-h-e has once been established, and in the
-interest of order I would advise none but anarchists and
-rebels to be so godless as to leave out the <i>e</i>. The law of
-order is supreme, in great and in the greatest, in small and
-in the smallest.”</p>
-
-<p>He stopped exhausted and gasped for breath. “On earth
-and in the heavens,” I added at haphazard.</p>
-
-<p>“In the heavens? Not that I know of!” he said,
-drawing down the corners of his mouth. At the same time
-he touched his lifted cane, allowing the candle-snuffers to
-protrude for a moment, as if he were about to snuff out all
-anarchic stars in the firmament. “Do you know, in the
-so-called heavens there is not much order? The disorderly
-conduct of the comets should have been interfered with
-long ago. And then this transit of Venus, what do you say
-to that? Do you call that order? Venus should go in a
-decent and orderly manner above or below the sun, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">[358]</span>
-certainly not straight before his Majesty’s very nose. Why,
-it is like snapping his fingers at the sun; it’s disrespectful,
-it’s opposed to all decorum, to all order.”</p>
-
-<p>So saying he darted away from me—we had meanwhile
-reached the hotel “Hof Ragaz,” and entering the right
-wing had walked upstairs—and like a whirlwind he
-pounced upon a table standing in the hall, about which
-evidently there was something not in order.</p>
-
-<p>“There it is again!” he muttered, slowly passing the tip
-of his fore-finger over the top of the table until upon the
-dusty surface the word “Dust” appeared in large type
-capitals.</p>
-
-<p>“Hang those women!” grumbled the owner of the
-magic staff. “Will you believe me when I tell you that
-yesterday I wrote the same cry of warning upon the top of
-this table? All in vain!”</p>
-
-<p>And setting down his elaborately-constructed cane with
-well-tempered force upon the first step of the staircase
-leading to the third storey, he continued: “Tell me, dear
-sir, did you ever in the course of your experience meet with
-a person of the feminine sex, be it child, girl, or matron,
-who could ever be prevailed upon by means of exhortation,
-kindness, severity, diplomacy, or force to fully shut the
-latch of a door, or turn down the bolt of a window-sash?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, to tell the truth, I have never met a feminine person
-of that description.”</p>
-
-<p>“I thought so!” he continued, with a triumphant smile.
-“Oh, if you knew all the trouble, all the untold trouble, I
-have taken for years to teach the women-folks at home to
-properly shut doors and windows. All in vain! But do
-you know how I punish the disorderly batch at home?
-Whenever I find a door left upon the latch, or a window
-with the bolt but half-turned, I at once lift the door or the
-sash out of the hinges and lean it against the wall. This
-has the desired effect of vexing the women and giving them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">[359]</span>
-additional work, especially in winter. There’s nothing like
-the law of order. But do you call that order, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>And with a degree of moral indignation he pointed to a
-row of milk-stains upon the stairs. One of the chamber-maids,
-hastening up or down stairs with a breakfast-tray, had
-not kept an eye properly upon the milk-pitcher.</p>
-
-<p>What did our fanatic in the cause of order? Something
-I had never seen before. He pulled a piece of chalk out of
-his pocket, and step by step he marked a neat circle round
-about each drop of milk.</p>
-
-<p>“You see,” he said, “this is the way I do at home to
-call the attention of the women to such offences against all
-sense of decency and modesty, which of course they never
-see and correct of their own accord. Oh, disorder, thy
-name is woman.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Johannes Scherr</i>.
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_LUXURY_OF_GOING_ABOUT_INCOGNITO"><i>THE LUXURY OF GOING ABOUT INCOGNITO.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">F</span>OR six years the couple had lived in a very small town,
-in which each inhabitant could furnish a detailed
-biography of his neighbour, possessed an intimate knowledge
-of his daily <i>menu</i>, and knew just when the post
-delivered a package to him—the size and shape of which
-package being made the subject of conversation at the
-next coffee-party, where also unfailing conclusions were
-arrived at as to the contents and sender of the object in
-question. Judge Schwarz, being a person of distinction in
-town, naturally suffered more than others under the zealous
-observation of his neighbours, and was quite sure that he
-could not have a button sewed on his coat without having
-his friends mention the fact to each other and make their
-comments upon it;—ay, he went so far as to believe himself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">[360]</span>
-particularly favoured by good fortune if the local paper
-did not get hold of the important event and retail it to its
-readers the next morning in a sprightly editorial.</p>
-
-<p>This consciousness had in the course of years reached
-such a stage in the judge’s mind as to become utterly
-unendurable; and as in certain individuals painful inner
-experiences seek to become personified in some external
-object, so all this small-town gossip, this puerile mutual
-observation and control, seemed to concentrate itself in
-the person of the Apothecary Lebermann, a good-natured
-but essentially prosy person, possessed of an insatiable
-curiosity, who was interested in the whole world, and
-wanted to know everything—on the other hand taking
-for granted that others had as lively a concern about him
-and the experiences of his daily life.</p>
-
-<p>On the day on which our story begins the judge was
-returning from court in rather an irritable mood, and his
-face darkened perceptibly as he saw the apothecary coming
-to meet him.</p>
-
-<p>While it was, as we have said, Herr Lebermann’s justifiable
-peculiarity to desire to know everything, and with a
-rare toughness of purpose to work upon his neighbour with
-queries until the other would fling the desired information
-at his head in a fit of uncontrollable indignation, the judge
-was the most uncommunicative of mortals. It was his
-intention that no one should know what he did, or where
-he bought his things, or with whom he kept up a correspondence—ay,
-even his Christian name was to him a
-matter of deep secrecy; in fact, a sharp altercation between
-him and his wife had once been brought about by no other
-cause than that she had failed to fully understand his
-feelings in this respect, and unadvisedly addressing him
-one day on the railroad with the harmless remark, “See
-the charming view, Karl!” had unmasked him before his
-fellow-travellers.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">[361]</span></p>
-
-<p>Here these two gentlemen, as unlike as possible in their
-peculiarities, met upon the street, and while the judge was
-as nimble as an eel in trying to escape the apothecary, the
-latter was equally assiduous in his efforts to detain him,
-and opened the conversation with the apparently unnecessary
-question, “Coming from court so early to-day,
-Herr Schwarz?”</p>
-
-<p>“No!” replied the judge unkindly.</p>
-
-<p>“No?” repeated Herr Lebermann, in a tone of surprise.
-“This is the way I generally see you come. Where have
-you been, then?”</p>
-
-<p>Apparently the judge was deaf.</p>
-
-<p>“Seems to me you generally come from court at this
-time of day,” persisted Herr Lebermann; “Ah, I see, you
-don’t care to tell me,” he added pleasantly, “but I know all
-about it just the same!”</p>
-
-<p>“If you know it there’s no need of asking,” growled the
-judge.</p>
-
-<p>“And now you’re on your way home,” remarked Herr
-Lebermann, with the blissful serenity of a man who has
-accomplished his purpose of knowing all about the aims
-and intents of other people. “I’ll walk along with you a
-bit. I am always out for a constitutional at this time of
-day!”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s a wise thing to do!” remarked Herr Schwarz
-with fatal indifference.</p>
-
-<p>“And when I get home I eat my sandwich,” the apothecary
-confidentially informed him; “only one, you know,
-so as not to take away my appetite for dinner! By the
-way, that reminds me—how does it agree with you to dine
-so much later?”</p>
-
-<p>The judge gave him a scathing look. “How do you
-know that I dine later than usual?” he asked indignantly.</p>
-
-<p>“You see, your cook is the sister of our maid, and she
-told her about it. You dine at half-past two, don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">[362]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Sometimes,” cried the irritated judge, struggling to control
-his temper; “here we are at my house—good morning,
-Herr Lebermann!”</p>
-
-<p>“One moment!” said the apothecary, taking possession of
-the judge’s button-hole while the latter was angrily seeking
-to escape; “there seems to be company at your house.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why?” asked Schwarz, trembling with ire—he had
-fetched his sister-in-law from the station twelve hours ago,
-long after nightfall, and had hoped that the fact of her
-presence was as yet unknown.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I saw your maid buy <i>three</i> little tarts at the
-pastry-cook’s this morning,” said the apothecary innocently;
-“she generally takes only two—so I thought, perhaps——”</p>
-
-<p>The judge darted a glance of utter contempt at his
-companion.</p>
-
-<p>“Why did you not take it for granted I might desire to
-eat <i>two</i> tarts to-day?” he said with alarming politeness, and
-then walked into the house full of wrath.</p>
-
-<p>Weighty decisions were ripening within him, and the
-result of his deliberation became apparent as he sat down to
-lunch with his ladies, and suddenly delivered himself of the
-astonishing words: “We’ll start for Berlin this evening!”</p>
-
-<p>Helen dropped her fork and gazed at her husband with
-wide-open eyes. “This evening?”</p>
-
-<p>“When I say this evening I don’t mean next year,”
-growled the paterfamilias. “That’s just like a woman!
-Here you’ve always been talking and begging to go and
-travel—to go and leave this miserable little place for awhile,
-and now when I offer to go, you raise objections!”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear Karl!” began his wife soothingly, “I was
-only taken by surprise at your sudden resolve. What can
-have occurred to bring it about?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m tired of this small town gossip, and more especially
-of the apothecary!” said Karl, energetically. “Confound
-it—I can’t blow my nose but that Lebermann sends to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">[363]</span>
-inquire if I have a cold! I want to go and see what life is
-like in a large town, where I can go about <i>incognito</i>. I can
-just manage to get away over Sunday. We’ll take three
-round-trip tickets and go to Berlin this evening. Go and
-pack your things!”</p>
-
-<p>He folded his napkin and got up. A low exclamation
-from Annchen interrupted him.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Three?</i>—shall I go too?”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_363" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_363.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption"> “HELEN WAS SOFTLY CARESSING ON ONE SIDE, HIS LITTLE SISTER-IN-LAW
-PATTING HIS SHOULDER ON THE OTHER.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>There was such an unmistakable expression of rapture
-upon her charming face that a smile stole across the features
-of her growling brother-in-law.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I should think so,” he said; “did you suppose we
-would leave you at home?”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you, Karl—thank you!” cried Annchen, in a
-state of bliss; and while Helen was softly caressing her
-“bear” upon one side, his little sister-in-law was patting his
-shoulder upon the other, crying, “Thank you, Karl,—I think
-you are perfectly lovely!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">[364]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, you’re the first person that has told me so since I
-was two years old,” remarked the judge, whose dudgeon
-was melting under the beams of the rapture he had been
-the cause of, like snow before the summer’s sun. “Now I
-know how to tame such shy little birds. What, Helen?
-Perfectly lovely, am I?”</p>
-
-<p>And with a half-ironical, half-flattered shrug of his
-shoulders he left the room to devote himself to assiduous
-studies of the time-table, which to him, as to most people
-who rarely travel, was a book of seven seals.</p>
-
-<p>The day on which this memorable resolution was formed
-was a cold, windy autumn day, making it imperative to
-choose warm clothing for the night journey. All day the
-ladies were occupied with putting their wearing apparel in
-order, which, in the face of this journey, proved to be
-inadequate in many respects.</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll buy all that in Berlin,” said Helen consolingly to
-her sister, who was putting on her plain little straw hat with
-a look of deep concern, quite unconscious of the fact how
-charmingly becoming it was to her rosy face. The judge
-walked up and down in the room, casting brief remarks at
-his ladies from time to time. “Don’t take your entire
-outfit along just for two or three days,” he remarked
-warningly.</p>
-
-<p>Evening came fast enough; every moment was made the
-most of, and when the lamps were lit there was still this and
-that waiting to be attended to. At the last moment—they
-were just sitting down to tea—a thought struck the paterfamilias;
-he touched the bell.</p>
-
-<p>“Did you attend to what I told you this morning?” he
-asked the maid in his mystifying fashion.</p>
-
-<p>Pauline looked at her master with no very intelligent
-expression in her face.</p>
-
-<p>“What do you mean, sir?”</p>
-
-<p>“Did you get what I told you?” queried the judge.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">[365]</span>
-Pauline was silent, thereby giving most decided expression
-to her bewilderment.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, Karl, do tell her what you mean,” implored
-Helen; “there’s no time to be lost—we must be going!”</p>
-
-<p>“Very well,” replied the judge discontentedly; “of course
-it is more than you can endure not to know what I am
-referring to! Did you go and fetch my fur-lined great-coat
-from the furrier’s?”</p>
-
-<p>Pauline blushed guiltily.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, dear me, I forgot all about it, sir—I’ll run there
-now as fast as I can!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, and you’ll run back no doubt when we are in the
-cars,” said her master contemptuously. “Well, then, I shall
-take my death of cold on the journey—at any rate I shall
-be spared the trouble of telling Lebermann just how my
-funeral came off!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, well, Karl,” said Helen, soothing his dismal forebodings;
-“seems to me there might be some other way out
-of your difficulty. Pauline can fetch the great-coat to the
-station and hand it to you there. Do you understand,
-Pauline?”</p>
-
-<p>Pauline nodded humbly and departed, while the judge
-arose and took up the leather bag containing the money
-and tickets, and enjoined his ladies to make haste.
-“Put on your things, children—I think the carriage is
-coming!”</p>
-
-<p>As the party reached the station their happy mood was
-somewhat dampened, for Pauline and the great-coat were
-not in sight. All in vain did eager eyes pierce the darkness
-of night, and all were about to succumb to fate and take
-their seats in the car, when the long-expected one, like
-Schiller’s diver, appeared breathless upon the scene, holding
-the coat on high, and swinging it like a triumphal banner.
-The judge without delay slipped into the warmer garment,
-and indeed it was high time, for already the conductor<span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">[366]</span>
-was slamming to the doors of the other compartments,—a
-sharp whistle, and the train started.</p>
-
-<p>Our three travellers were in the rosiest mood imaginable.
-Helen, who had not set foot outside of the provincial town,
-which was now her home, since her marriage, pictured to
-herself the glories of Berlin in the brightest of hues, and
-Annchen dreamed vague, golden dreams, and indulged in
-exquisite air-castles, in which at the decisive moment her
-unknown hero was always seen leaning out of some
-window.</p>
-
-<p>The judge was gleefully rubbing his hands.</p>
-
-<p>“Now then—at last we are free of that miserable place,”
-he said, making himself comfortable in his corner of the
-compartment. “Now let us all go to sleep and open our
-eyes to-morrow morning in Berlin!”</p>
-
-<p>The train sped through the night air; and it was not until
-it had reached Berlin that the Schwarzes awoke with the
-proud consciousness of being in the Imperial Capital.</p>
-
-<p>The judge put his somewhat dishevelled head out of the
-window.</p>
-
-<p>“See the hurry and bustle of the crowd,” he said cheerfully.
-“This is rather different from the streets of Solau!
-Here the individual disappears like a drop in the ocean,
-and no one knows or cares what his neighbour is about.
-Come, children, we must get out!”</p>
-
-<p>He stretched himself with lazy ease, and took his hand-luggage
-down out of the net, then jumped down himself
-after his ladies.</p>
-
-<p>“Look you, there’s not a person knows us here,” he continued;
-“we can do exactly as we please for three days—it’s
-like being at a grand masquerade!”</p>
-
-<p>“Good morning, Herr Judge!” a voice cried at that
-moment behind him. “Shall I fetch you a cab?”</p>
-
-<p>The addressed started perceptibly. A porter quite unknown
-to himself or his ladies stood before him and held<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">[367]</span>
-out his hand for the luggage, with a peculiar, knowing smile
-upon his features, then quickly piled them upon his back
-with skilful dexterity.</p>
-
-<p>“How do you know who I am?” asked the judge, somewhat
-irritated at this unexpected violation of his <i>incognito</i>.</p>
-
-<p>His unknown friend, however, had already turned upon
-his heel in search of a cab, and was now storing his burden
-upon the top.</p>
-
-<p>A glorious autumn morning was dawning over town, and
-the unknown splendour before them beckoned invitingly to
-our unsophisticated friends.</p>
-
-<p>“Look here, Karl,” began Helen, who had meanwhile
-conferred with Annchen as to their mutual wishes, “what do
-you say to going on foot to the hotel? As we are only to
-be here for so short a time, we should make the most of
-every moment, and seems to me, after last night’s journey,
-a walk would be much more refreshing to us than a ride in
-a close cab!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes!” cried Annchen, whose beaming eyes gazed
-upon the new world of wonders as a child might gaze upon
-fairyland.</p>
-
-<p>“All right, go a-head!” replied the judge, whom the air
-of the metropolis had suddenly changed into a jovial fellow.
-“I’ll run and buy a map of Berlin, and then join you!”</p>
-
-<p>He paid for the cab while the ladies were walking
-slowly a-head, and gave a fee to make sure that the charioteer
-would safely deposit the trunks at the hotel; but as he
-was turning back to the station to buy the map the cab-driver
-called out—</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you kindly, Herr Judge!”</p>
-
-<p>That good gentleman was perceptibly taken aback; he
-cast a suspicious glance behind him,—there stood the porter
-who had addressed him in like manner, and the two men
-were grinning diabolically.</p>
-
-<p>“Aha,” said the judge to himself, “that fellow noticed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">[368]</span>
-that his foolish speech vexed me, and now they are having a
-laugh at me in company. I suppose that’s Berlin humour,
-and it has got to be endured!”</p>
-
-<p>In possession of a Berlin town-map, which rivalled a
-moderate-sized bed-screen in size, the judge hastened to join
-his ladies, who had been caught by a shop window in the
-Friedrichstrasse as securely as flies caught in a fly-trap.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s right,” said the judge indulgently, “take your
-time looking at these things. Where you are as utterly
-unknown as we are here, there is no harm in looking at
-show-windows.”</p>
-
-<p>He thereupon gave the objects in the window a close
-inspection.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Herr Schwarz, what is it that’s taking your fancy?”
-suddenly cried a shrill voice, and a shoemaker’s apprentice
-with undisguised mirth in his rogue’s visage slipped by him
-laughing.</p>
-
-<p>The judge was speechless.</p>
-
-<p>“This is getting worse and worse!” he exclaimed; “there’s
-something wrong here! Come, children, this is positively
-uncanny. This looks like the artful device of some
-scoundrel. Let us hurry up and go to the hotel. The next
-time any one calls me Herr Judge or Herr Schwarz, it will
-be the worse for him!”</p>
-
-<p>The sisters were growing nervous also.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, yes,” assented Helen, “we’ll go to the hotel—it is
-very unpleasant here in the streets! I don’t understand
-how it is, Karl,” she added; “you must bear a striking resemblance
-to some popular town celebrity, whose name
-happens to be Schwarz into the bargain!”</p>
-
-<p>“And who happens to be a judge as well?” asked Karl
-sarcastically. “That’s very probable, my child! I have
-always said that no sooner do you set out to have a good
-time than immediately something occurs to frustrate your
-plans!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">[369]</span></p>
-
-<p>They had walked on, eagerly discussing the possible cause
-of this unusual occurrence, and suddenly they discovered
-that they had lost their bearings.</p>
-
-<p>“Where are we, anyway?” asked Annchen with a trembling
-voice. “I thought we were to be in Unter den Linden by
-this time?”</p>
-
-<p>“That is so, Karl,” added Helen; “you are taking us
-nobody knows where! These streets are not at all attractive,
-and I am tired out!”</p>
-
-<p>Karl forthwith produced his tremendous map of the town.</p>
-
-<p>“Wait one moment,” he said with dignity; “I’ll tell you
-immediately.”</p>
-
-<p>And he then and there unfolded the enormous sheet. A
-playful morning wind, however, mercilessly jerked it hither
-and thither, and there was nothing for it but to beg the
-ladies to stand on either side as banner-holders, and help
-him save it from destruction. But it took Karl longer than
-he thought to find his way about, and while he was still
-engaged in the effort, a tall, elegant-looking man walked
-down the street, and, with evident amusement, glanced at
-the conspicuous group, especially noting the charming person
-of little Annchen. The face of the stranger wore a pleasant,
-good-humoured expression, and, moreover, was so handsome
-and attractive that there was no perceptible reason why
-Annchen, raising her eyes at that moment, should suddenly
-blush to the roots of her hair, her hand at the same time
-trembling so that she could scarcely hold the map over
-which Karl and Helen were still chanting a woful duet in
-search of their hotel.</p>
-
-<p>The stranger, evidently struck by the appearance of the
-lovely, embarrassed girl, walked on slowly and then turned
-and came back. There was undisguised merriment and
-a half-controlled laugh upon his lips as he passed around
-behind Karl and before the fair banner-holders.</p>
-
-<p>“Good morning, Herr Judge Schwarz,” he said, taking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">[370]</span>
-his hat off low to the ladies, and turned to pass on his
-way.</p>
-
-<p>But he had reckoned without his host. In a paroxysm
-of rage the judge darted after him.</p>
-
-<p>“Sir, what does this mean? How do you know my
-name and title?” he cried, panting with indignation, while
-Helen vainly tried to appease him.</p>
-
-<p>Karl shook off her hand impatiently.</p>
-
-<p>“How can you have the effrontery to address me by my
-name?” he repeated in a tone of thunder.</p>
-
-<p>“My dear sir,” replied the stranger, laughing, “if your
-name is to be kept secret, allow me to call your attention
-to the fact that it would be the part of wisdom not to wear
-it plainly upon your back!”</p>
-
-<p>Karl gazed upon the stranger in speechless astonishment.
-Helen turned her husband dexterously around. Ah, here
-was the solution of the riddle! That benighted furrier had
-forgotten, in the press of business, to remove the slip of paper
-from the judge’s great-coat, by which that valuable garment
-had been distinguished from others entrusted to his keeping,
-and poor Karl had been walking about for an hour in
-Berlin with an enormous placard on his back bearing the
-inscription, “Herr Judge Schwarz!”</p>
-
-<p>While Helen and Anna were occupied in removing this
-enemy of the much-desired <i>incognito</i> from the back of their
-liege lord and master, Annchen found time to whisper to
-her sister, “That was Kurt!”</p>
-
-<p>“Nonsense!” cried Helen in surprise, now giving Karl’s
-tormentor a scrutinising glance, while the latter was vainly
-endeavouring to pacify the enraged Karl—more likely, I
-regret to say, for the sake of the pretty damsel than for
-brotherly love. But Karl was obstinate, and would have
-nothing to do with forgiveness, and even the kind offer of
-the unknown to show him the way had no further effect
-than to extract a surly reply, “You may, for all I care!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">[371]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp49" id="i_371" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_371.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“WALKING ABOUT FOR AN HOUR IN BERLIN WITH A PLACARD ON HIS BACK.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">[372]</span></p>
-
-<p>“We want to go to the R—— Hotel,” added the judge
-reluctantly, “if you know where that is?”</p>
-
-<p>The stranger laughed again.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh yes, I know perfectly well,” he said; “it is not at all
-out of my way, if you will allow me to escort you there.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, thank you,” said Karl curtly; “just tell me the way
-to go. My bump of locality is very well developed, but in
-this confounded town there’s no finding one’s way about.”</p>
-
-<p>“Allow me to mention my name,” said the stranger
-after he had given brief directions as to the way, lifting his
-hat.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t trouble yourself, thank you,” growled the judge;
-“it is not my habit to make acquaintances upon the street.
-Come along, children.”</p>
-
-<p>And after a brief and not very reassuring farewell to the
-young man, he gave an arm to each of his ladies, and drew
-them along after him.</p>
-
-<p>The stranger, thus brusquely dismissed, looked after the
-three departing figures for a moment, gave a low whistle,
-and went on his way still laughing.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile Helen, touched by the look of disappointment
-on her sister’s face, had smartly reproached her husband for
-showing so little politeness to the stranger.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t understand you, Karl,” she said. “How could
-you be so rude to the young man? It was only too natural
-that, under the circumstances, he indulged in the harmless
-joke of addressing you!”</p>
-
-<p>“The impudence of it!” cried Karl in a rage.</p>
-
-<p>“In fact, you ought to be grateful to him,” Helen added
-boldly, “for without him and his explanation you would still
-be walking about with the slip on your back, like a book
-from the circulating library. The young fellow looked very
-nice!” Karl stood stock-still.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll tell you what, children,” he said energetically, “now
-leave me in peace about your unknown friend! That’s the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">[373]</span>
-way all women are—that’s what a woman’s opinion is worth!
-Looked nice, did he? And such creatures are all for
-equality with men! If you are on the jury, and a convicted
-murderer has blue calf’s eyes, every one of you would acquit
-him! I’d have you to know that it is my firm conviction
-the man was a sharper!”</p>
-
-<p>“Shame on you, Karl!” cried Anna, her just ire getting
-the better of her shyness. Her hero a sharper,—this was
-too bad!</p>
-
-<p>Her brother-in-law gave her a penetrating look.</p>
-
-<p>“What business is it of yours, if I may be permitted to
-ask?”</p>
-
-<p>“Annchen has seen him at D——!” said Helen, endeavouring
-to hide her sister’s embarrassment.</p>
-
-<p>“What?” asked Karl suspiciously, “you know the fellow?
-What’s his name?”</p>
-
-<p>That, as we know, was a very inconvenient question.
-That the unknown was called Kurt would scarcely suffice to
-satisfy the judge by way of personal information, and that
-was all Annchen knew about him. So she was silent, and
-confined herself to blushing once more, which, however
-pretty it might look, could scarcely <span class="err" title="original: he">be</span> regarded as a satisfactory
-explanation, at least not to this unsentimental
-brother-in-law and judge.</p>
-
-<p>“Aha!” said Karl, with a lordly air, “you are so well
-acquainted that you do not so much as know his name!
-Take my word for it, the man was a sharper—that is my
-firm opinion. Such fellows always look very elegant and
-well-bred. Not another word about him!”</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile they had safely reached the hotel, and it was
-time to yield to the imperious need for rest and sleep. This,
-to be sure, was not indulged in for long, for excitement and
-the wish to enjoy Berlin to the full soon drove the pleasure-seekers
-out again.</p>
-
-<p>In the dining-room the question, “What now?” was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">[374]</span>
-discussed at length by the couple, while Annchen listened
-to everything that was proposed with unmistakable indifference.
-To her Berlin had grown to be nothing but an
-enormous frame to hold the likeness of the adorable, who
-had crossed her path once more this morning in so surprising
-a fashion, and, alas! seemed utterly unconscious
-of the fact that he had ever seen her before.</p>
-
-<p>The unknown, whom we will herewith introduce to our
-readers as Dr. Rüdiger, had meanwhile also reached the
-R—— Hotel, at which he too, as good luck would have it,
-had put up.</p>
-
-<p>Himself unnoticed, he observed how the judge and his
-ladies, after a short parley with the <i>portier</i>, left the hotel,
-and no sooner had they turned the next corner than he too
-approached that personage.</p>
-
-<p>“Has Herr Judge Schwarz gone out already?” he asked
-nonchalantly.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, Herr Schwarz and the ladies have just gone,”
-replied the <i>portier</i>, who in his person united the dignity of
-a Spanish grandee with eely suavity.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s too bad!” remarked the wily Rüdiger. “We
-were going to make an engagement for this evening!”</p>
-
-<p>“Herr Schwarz ordered tickets to the opera for to-morrow
-night,” said the <i>portier</i>.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah! that’s capital,” replied Rüdiger. “You may procure
-a ticket for me in the same box; I will come and ask
-you for it.”</p>
-
-<p>He walked away cheerfully, and patiently did the principal
-sights of Berlin, in the secret hope that fortune would
-favour him and bring about a meeting between him and the
-Schwarz family. But for the present this hope came to
-naught.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile our party had set out on their trip of pleasure.
-First they had devoted themselves to show-windows, and
-with many an admiring ejaculation had come to the conclusion<span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">[375]</span>
-that Berlin was the only place worth sojourning in.
-Then they pantingly followed two closed Imperial carriages,
-and endeavoured to make each other believe that they had
-caught a sight of the persons within. Finally, after the
-museum had been hurried through with profound awe and
-moderate comprehension, they all experienced decided
-pangs of hunger, and, with the intention of dining cosily
-together, they entered a superb restaurant on the ground
-floor.</p>
-
-<p>The judge escorted his ladies to an inviting little table
-near one of the windows, from where one had a fine view
-of the streets and the busy crowds—not, to be sure, with
-the additional advantage mentioned in the well-known
-song—</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent0">“Across the lands we gaze, oh!</div>
-    <div class="verse indent0">While we are all unseen——,”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin">for every glass of wine and every forkful of meat could be
-closely scrutinised by the passers-by.</p>
-
-<p>But the pleasing knowledge of being quite unknown
-comforted the judge for this drawback of his position.</p>
-
-<p>The waiter’s question as to what they wished to have for
-dinner might have appeared as an insult to the judge in
-his exceeding love of secrecy; being, however, very hungry
-he generously forgave him, and the three together assiduously
-studied the <i>menu</i>, which sported a variety of names
-which might have been made to stand for almost <i>anything</i>,
-so that whatever one ordered there was always a pleasant
-surprise in view.</p>
-
-<p>Soon a bottle with a promising silvery cork stood upon
-the table in a dainty cooler, and the judge was just raising
-his glass to drink the ladies’ health: “Children,” he said,
-“I can’t tell you how delightful this is, to feel that one is
-sitting here free of all good friends and neighbours. Here’s
-to our <i>incognito</i>!”</p>
-
-<p>There was a playful tap at the window. Karl, poor<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">[376]</span>
-fellow, started as if he had beheld a ghost—indeed I know
-not but a ghost even would have been a more welcome
-sight at that particular moment than the smiling face of
-Herr Lebermann, who, with the unmistakable consciousness
-of giving the judge and his family a great and
-unexpected pleasure, pressed his nose flat against the
-window-pane.</p>
-<div class="figcenter illowe31_25" id="i_376">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_376.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“THE SMILING FACE OF HERR LEBERMANN.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The judge dropped his fork. “For heaven’s sake—Lebermann!”
-he stammered with difficulty.</p>
-
-<p>A further critical remark was suppressed, for the good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_377">[377]</span>
-Lebermann, with a happy smile upon his face, stood before
-our pleasure-seekers.</p>
-
-<p>“Well now, you’d never have supposed you’d find me
-here, would you?” he asked, full of rapture.</p>
-
-<p>“No—that is the last thing I should have thought of,”
-replied Karl mildly. “What brought you here?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll tell you all about it in a minute,” replied Herr
-Lebermann, having given a chivalrous greeting to the
-ladies and proved himself thoroughly well-informed by
-looking at Annchen with the words, “Ah, this, I suppose,
-is your visitor that came the other night!”</p>
-
-<p>He drew a chair up to the table and ordered a beef-steak.</p>
-
-<p>The judge looked about him wildly, and was apparently
-so greatly in danger of indulging in unwary remarks, that
-Helen, to avert the storm, imprudently reminded the
-apothecary of his promised narrative.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you see,” began the interesting arrival, “I noticed
-some time ago that there was something wrong with my
-molar tooth—the third in the upper row,” he added, to
-expel every doubt. “I believe I mentioned it to you once,
-Herr Judge?”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s quite possible!” sighed Karl brokenly.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, yes, I remember it quite well! We were sitting at
-König’s in the restaurant—it is not very long ago! Well,
-never mind! So, then, the day before yesterday, in the
-afternoon, that tooth began to hurt me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Too bad!” said Helen pitifully, feeling it incumbent
-upon her to say something polite.</p>
-
-<p>“It wasn’t very bad,” said Herr Lebermann consolingly,
-“but still I felt it, you know! Yesterday, in the morning,
-the head-man had left open the back-door to the shop, and
-then there is always a draught; you have no idea how it blows.
-Time and time again I have said to him: ‘Herr Semmler,’
-says I, ‘don’t leave that back-door unlatched,’ but he can’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_378">[378]</span>
-get over the habit! You will say, you wouldn’t be put
-upon!”</p>
-
-<p>He looked at his victims expectantly.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t say any such thing!” growled Karl, his soul
-burning within him. “Hurry up, children—we must be
-going!”</p>
-
-<p>“I shall be through in a minute,” said Herr Lebermann.
-“Where did I stop? Ah yes, I know! That miserable
-Semmler. When I tell him courteously it has no effect, and
-I don’t like to be curt to him, for he is a decent enough
-fellow, and it’s hard to find such another nowadays. He
-is quite to be depended upon. He has a little property
-too——”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, but Herr Lebermann,” interrupted Helen, who
-already saw her husband in spirit rush at him with a
-knife, “you were going to tell us what brought you to
-Berlin!”</p>
-
-<p>Herr Lebermann cut up his beef-steak with much
-deliberation.</p>
-
-<p>“I was just about to tell you,” he said with a courteous
-bow to Helen. “Well, you see, last night the door was left
-open again. I was somewhat heated. I had on a heavy
-over-coat,—perhaps I had walked faster than usual,—I
-shouldn’t at all wonder if I had!—I entered the shop—and
-there was a tremendous draught! You really have no idea
-how bad it was—and at that very moment my tooth was at
-it again! I was quite beside myself, went upstairs to talk to
-my wife. It is really very convenient to have our lodgings in
-the same house now. ‘Clara!’ says I, ‘my tooth!’ ‘The
-one that was stopped?’ says she. ‘Yes,’ says I. Do you
-know my Clara, Frau Schwarz?”</p>
-
-<p>Helen gave an affirmative nod—she felt her eyelids
-growing heavy. Karl nervously drummed on the table, and
-Annchen was the only one who was not bored, for she was
-looking out upon the street in feverish excitement, hoping<span class="pagenum" id="Page_379">[379]</span>
-to catch a glimpse of her unknown hero, and hearing never
-a word that was spoken about her.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” continued Lebermann, “my wife, resolute as
-she is, said ‘Lebermann’—she always calls me Lebermann
-now, since our youngest is not called Fatty any more, but
-Robert, and you know my name is Robert too, and there
-was everlasting confusion—Robert—Robert—there was no
-knowing which Robert was meant. Well, to make a long
-story short, she said, ‘Lebermann,’ says she, ‘this is a
-serious matter. You’d best go to the right man at once!’
-No sooner said than done. I went and got a round-trip
-ticket—took the cars—came here—went to the dentist the
-first thing this morning—and now I’m free of all that, and I
-have had the rare good fortune of meeting you! This is
-delightful—really delightful!”</p>
-
-<p>“So it is,” said Karl, who was on the utmost verge of
-human endurance. “And now we must be going! Good-day
-to you, Herr Lebermann!”</p>
-
-<p>“Where do you put up?” asked the apothecary.</p>
-
-<p>“Nowhere as yet,” lied Karl, with a bold brow, appeasing
-his conscience with the thought that they had not yet spent
-a night at the hotel. “Waiter—what’s to pay?”</p>
-
-<p>“And where shall we meet again?” asked this kind
-neighbour, who seemed fully determined to dog the steps
-of his countrymen like a fearful nightly apparition.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, that’s the last thing—I mean to say we haven’t
-any definite plans as yet,” said Karl, taking his hat from the
-hook, while the ladies, much cast down by the turn their
-happily-begun travels had taken, were also getting ready
-to go.</p>
-
-<p>Annchen was struggling with her mantelet, when suddenly
-she heard a very engaging voice behind her: “Permit me
-to be of assistance,” and Dr. Rüdiger stood before the
-group with the happiest face in the world.</p>
-
-<p>As far as the judge’s expression at that particular moment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_380">[380]</span>
-was concerned, it is only to be regretted that there was no
-photographer on the spot. He gave the uncalled helper a
-crushing look, offered his arm to his wife, beckoned Annchen
-to his side, and without a word, bowed coldly to Lebermann
-and left the restaurant.</p>
-
-<p>This was really too bad! After several hours’ chase
-Rüdiger had at last succeeded in finding his lovely heroine
-once more, and at that very moment she was taken from
-him again. The only straw of refuge for him to cling to
-was Herr Lebermann, whom he had found in the company
-of the Schwarz family, and who might therefore be expected
-to give him some information.</p>
-
-<p>“The judge was in a great hurry,” he said, turning with
-an assumed air of placidity to the apothecary, who at once
-made room for the new-comer at his table.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, that’s just like my friend Schwarz,” he said
-deliberately, “he’s always excited—always on the go. I’m
-not at all like him. I am much more quiet, and that’s the
-very reason we get on so famously! My wife always says:
-‘Lebermann,’—my name is Lebermann, Apothecary Lebermann,
-from Solau——”</p>
-
-<p>“Dr. Rüdiger!” remarked his new friend with a bow.</p>
-
-<p>“Happy to meet you! Well, my wife says: ‘Lebermann,
-you are the most imperturbable man I ever saw.’ So you
-know my friend Schwarz, Dr. Rüdiger? Ah, by the way, I
-did not understand exactly whether he has found a hotel—do
-you know where he is staying?”</p>
-
-<p>“At the R—— Hotel,” replied Rüdiger innocently,
-thereby doing the worst service he could to the family
-to which he wished to make himself agreeable.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, I am glad to hear it; I shall go and order a room
-immediately,” said Lebermann joyously; “he will be so
-pleased, I know.”</p>
-
-<p>The judge and his ladies had taken up their wanderings
-again not in the best of spirits. The fact that the world<span class="pagenum" id="Page_381">[381]</span>
-is round had never struck them as so vexatious as now,
-when, in consequence of this dire roundness, Herr Lebermann
-was always rolling towards them.</p>
-
-<p>“What with this bad luck we are having,” remarked the
-judge bitterly, “it’s quite likely the fellow will cross our
-path again. After to-day’s experience I am confident I
-could climb up on Mount Vesuvius to escape from men,
-and when I reach the top the volcano would be sure to
-spit out Lebermann. Hello! where are we now?” he
-added discontentedly. “We are always losing our way in
-this wretched town. In this respect really I prefer Solau!”</p>
-
-<p>He disappeared once more behind his large map and
-began to search diligently for his hotel, or rather for the
-street that it was in.</p>
-
-<p>A small street urchin, with a bright, saucy face, at this
-moment came singing and skipping along the side-walk.
-At sight of the deeply-absorbed family an expression of
-unalloyed bliss passed over his face, and with the exclamation,
-“Who lives behind there?” he put his finger
-straight through the map; thereupon he took flight with a
-perfect shriek of laughter ere the judge had recovered from
-his consternation sufficiently to take up the chase with any
-hope of success.</p>
-
-<p>Helen and Annchen looked at their protector with some
-misgivings, in the uneasy expectation of seeing him beside
-himself with ire; but, lo and behold, he was quite the
-contrary! Herr Schwarz, who had been steadily regarding
-the injured map, strangely enough looked very well pleased,
-and taking a deep breath he said, “This <i>is</i> a good thing,
-now—if the lad hasn’t punched a hole in the spot I have
-always had such a deal of trouble to find. This really
-simplifies matters greatly.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Hans Arnold.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_382">[382]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_INNER_LIFE_OF_THE_SECOND-CLASS"><i>THE INNER LIFE OF THE SECOND-CLASS
-CAB-DRIVER.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin">“<span class="dropcap">A</span> WRITER who would describe things that he has not
-seen with his own eyes is a feeble rhapsodist; his
-characters are unreal, and his productions will never touch
-the hearts of his readers!” Amen! My friend Otto put his
-glass down on the table with such vehemence that the red
-wine in it spattered on the table-cloth. I am very shy by
-nature; people who talk loud and set down their glass
-energetically, looking at me at the same time, as much as
-to say, “Any objections?” always awe me. That is the
-reason my friend Otto awed me. We sat opposite at the
-table in the Italian wine-room; while he was speaking he
-looked firmly at me; there was no doubt of it, he counted
-me in with these blameworthy authors. Our other friends
-who sat at table with us gazed at me in silence; it was
-evident that I was expected to say a weighty word in self-defence.
-I myself felt it incumbent upon me,—but unfortunately
-nothing appropriate occurred to me. After a
-lengthy pause I mildly remarked, “Quite true, one should
-dip down into the fulness of human life.” My friend Otto
-laughed scornfully into his glass, our friends gave me a look
-of pity—I had undoubtedly made a fool of myself.</p>
-
-<p>At the same time, the words of my friend Otto would
-never have made such an impression upon me if my conscience
-had not troubled me. A plan was ripening within
-me for a great social novel, delineating the life of the lower
-classes in Berlin. Realism—that was my programme. In
-spirit I saw my likeness in all the illustrated papers; behind
-my name I read, “The German Zola,” in a parenthesis. I
-had not yet fully decided upon the contents of the novel;
-but so much was sure, the hero should be a second-class
-cab-driver,—if that didn’t take, I didn’t know what would.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_383">[383]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowe37_1875" id="i_383">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_383.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“KEPT ME WAITING AT THE DOOR WHILE HE WAS AMUSING HIMSELF
-WITH HIS ADORED.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_384">[384]</span></p>
-
-<p>As I was walking home, I was tortured with tormenting
-doubts called forth by the words of my friend. “So you
-would delineate a second-class cab-driver?” I said to myself.
-“What do you know about a second-class cab-driver?
-That in summer he wears a coat trimmed with galloons, and
-a cocked hat, and in winter a mantle, high boots lined with
-straw, and a fur cap—everybody knows that. But have
-you ever listened to the conversation with which at the
-stopping-places he makes time pass for himself and his
-colleagues? Have you ever followed him into the gin-shops
-where he refreshes himself with a glass of half-and-half
-and a sandwich? Do you know aught about his likes
-and dislikes? Or of the mutual relation between him and
-his horse? In a word, have you any knowledge of the
-inner life of a second-class cab-driver? Be honest with
-yourself, you have none; and here you are going to write a
-social novel about him! Well I never!” The last word I
-said half-audibly to myself while I was opening the street-door
-in a very ill humour.</p>
-
-<p>I did not sleep well that night. I was perpetually
-pondering over the inner life of the second-class cab-driver.</p>
-
-<p>When I arose, sighing, the next morning, I perceived
-that I should accomplish nothing by going on in this way,
-and I resolved to devote myself to practical studies. Armed
-with my note-book, I stepped out into the street.</p>
-
-<p>It was a glorious spring morning, but I was indifferent to
-the fact; my eyes were riveted upon second-class cabs and
-their charioteers. At the next corner there was a stopping-place
-for six such; my heart beat faster as I beheld them.
-Heretofore these fellows had appeared to me in the light of
-ordinary mortals; now it struck me that there was a sly
-smile upon their faces, as if they were conscious of the fact of
-possessing something which they would take care not to
-divulge—the inner life of the second-class cab-driver.</p>
-
-<p>I jumped into the foremost cab; it was open, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_385">[385]</span>
-sported cushions of red plush. The driver sat nodding
-upon the box, and for the present his inner life was hidden
-by the sound of a tremendous snoring.</p>
-
-<p>“Thou shalt be my hero!” spoke a voice within me.
-After some fruitless efforts, I at last succeeded in waking
-him. I named some street at random, where he was to
-take me, and resolved to enter into conversation with
-him.</p>
-
-<p>“Been on many trips to-day?” I asked in a winning
-voice, while he was putting his horse in motion. He did
-not seem to hear me, at least he paid no attention to my
-remark.</p>
-
-<p>“Been on many trips to-day?” I repeated, still more
-pleasantly.</p>
-
-<p>He turned his head about. “You’re right there,” he
-said. “It’s a double trip.”</p>
-
-<p>I was taken back by this unexpected result of my speech.
-“Double trip?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, don’t you believe it?” he asked indignantly. I
-was vexed that I had unwisely entered upon a double trip,
-and subsided.</p>
-
-<p>“Pronounced faculty for justice,” I put down in my note-book,
-“which occasionally amounts to unbending doggedness.”
-As the note seemed too scant, I added, “Brusque
-and uncommunicative.”</p>
-
-<p>We had reached a part of the town which offered no
-possible attractions to me; so there was nothing for it but
-to drive back again. I jumped into the first cab I saw, and
-as I was just about to open conversation with the driver I
-perceived that it was a first-class cab. What was a first-class
-cab-driver to me? Besides, it cost me a shilling. I was
-terribly vexed with myself.</p>
-
-<p>I now resolved to be more cautious in my choice of cabs.
-Long I strolled about the streets, keeping an eye on all the
-stopping-places I passed, until at last I beheld a young<span class="pagenum" id="Page_386">[386]</span>
-second-class cab-driver, who, as soon as he saw my gaze
-fixed upon him, leaped with jerky haste upon his box.</p>
-
-<p>“At last,” I said to myself while getting in, “this
-is a genuine wide-awake Berlin cab-driver, such as I
-want.”</p>
-
-<p>I tested his conversational powers with two or three
-casual remarks—my efforts were crowned with success. I
-told him to drive to the Thiergarten, as the most favourable
-place to listen undisturbed to his communications.</p>
-
-<p>As we Were jolting along the streets I silently gazed at
-my charioteer, who was enthroned with more audacity than
-grace side-wise upon his box, so that I could see his profile;
-I noticed certain dark shadows in his face, which looked as
-if he had inadvertently come into close contact with a boot-brush.</p>
-
-<p>As soon as we had reached the shady precincts of the
-Thiergarten the sluices of his eloquence were opened, and
-indeed this worthy youth repaid me for all that I had heretofore
-missed.</p>
-
-<p>“How is business going on?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, it’s only just going so-so,” he replied, “but up to
-last week it was going fine; we’ve had the whole town to
-sweep.”</p>
-
-<p>“Sweep?” I asked, somewhat puzzled.</p>
-
-<p>“Well yes, you see,” he said, “that’s because all winter
-folks had to sit at home and have a fire, and now, you see,
-it’s warm again——”</p>
-
-<p>“Aha,—I understand,” I interrupted; a rare point this
-for my note-book: “The second-class cab-driver manifests
-a surprising aptitude for simile; when the awaking spring-time
-entices men to leave their dark houses and entrust
-themselves to his vehicle, he expresses this by saying that
-he has swept the whole town.”</p>
-
-<p>In the joy of my heart I offered him a cigar; he did not
-decline, at the same time remarking that he preferred snuff<span class="pagenum" id="Page_387">[387]</span>
-to tobacco, which, as he said, was better adapted to his
-calling.</p>
-
-<p>Again I opened my note-book: “The second-class cab-driver
-does not disdain tobacco, preferring however to
-indulge in snuff.”</p>
-
-<p>“You see,” I said, after having secured this important fact
-in writing for all future times, “how it is always well to open
-one’s eyes to learn new things; up to this day I have never
-seen a cab-driver use snuff.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, as for them fellows——,” he replied, shrugging his
-shoulders, “why should they snuff? I was talking about
-our business.”</p>
-
-<p>“How so?” I stammered, with a puzzled look. He
-leaned down to me. “I’m only taking this cab out to-day,
-because my father don’t feel just right; the old hurdle
-belongs to him.”</p>
-
-<p>The trees in the Thiergarten began to dance before my
-very eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“What is your calling?” I shrieked in mortal agony.
-With a smile he looked down upon me: “I’m a chimney-sweep,”
-he said.</p>
-
-<p>“Stop!” I called out to him in a voice of thunder; “I
-want to get out here!”</p>
-
-<p>That afternoon I returned to my rooms with a bowed
-head; I had the feeling that everybody must know I had
-been out riding with a chimney-sweep.</p>
-
-<p>As I entered the house I noticed that there was a gateway
-beside the street-door bearing the inscription: “Cabs
-and carriages by the hour.” I had only lived in that particular
-house for a few days, and so had paid no attention
-to this before. Now, as my eyes were resting thoughtfully
-upon this sign, I made the observation that it is in hours of
-deep contrition that the soul of man ripens to grand purposes;
-for a thought arose within me, the boldness of which
-almost made me grow dizzy.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_388">[388]</span></p>
-
-<p>In my unhappy experience with the chimney-sweep I had
-seen that one can be a cab-driver on time,—how would it
-be if for twenty-four hours I myself were to fill such a
-post?</p>
-
-<p>I seized my hat, so that the sacred fire of my first decision
-should not be cooled off by pedantic considerations, entered
-the yard below, and the office of the cab-owner.</p>
-
-<p>At first he was little inclined to favour my plan; then
-gradually it dawned upon him that I should certainly be a
-very cheap cab-driver, who would cost him nothing, and
-moreover put thirty shillings into his pocket, a sum which
-I then and there counted upon the table. He began to
-treat me with a certain air of gentle indulgence, such as one
-bestows upon a person who is not fully in his right mind,
-and whom it is best not to irritate. One favourable circumstance
-was that he had just had a new coat and a new
-pair of trousers made for one of his drivers; provided these
-garments fitted me, I should put them on to-morrow. As
-far as the hat was concerned, he would let me take the one
-belonging to Gustav, the driver whose place I was to take.</p>
-
-<p>“So then,—to-morrow morning at five o’clock,” he said,
-“right here in the yard!”</p>
-
-<p>“I shall be here to-morrow morning at five o’clock,” I
-replied with an easy air, as if it were a daily habit of mine
-to get up at five. I was turning to go, when he called after
-me, “But you must leave your eye-glasses at home!” and
-he pointed to my nose; “that will never do for a cab-driver!”</p>
-
-<p>“You are right,” I rejoined; “I shall get me a pair of
-steel spectacles.”</p>
-
-<p>With that I left him, and partook myself to a masquerade-shop,
-where I procured a large beard to cover the lower
-part of my face, and a wig; beside my original object of
-disguising myself as far as possible, the thought of Gustav’s
-cocked hat made a special head-gear seem desirable. Beard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_389">[389]</span>
-and wig were sprinkled with grey, and must needs give me
-an air of homely dignity. In the shop of an optician I
-completed my outfit, looking through his entire stock of
-clumsy, old-fashioned spectacles. I could not find the
-desired steel spectacles, but there was a pair of horn ones
-with enormous circular glasses, by means of which my face
-gained an owl-like expression. That was what I wanted.
-Putting my treasures in my pocket, I stepped out upon the
-street, very well satisfied with myself. The energetic way
-in which I had seized upon this great enterprise pleased
-me; all my arrangements struck me as being exceedingly
-practical; I had a happy presentiment as to the success of
-my undertaking; this success I involuntarily carried into
-my thoughts of the novel that was to be, and I began to
-conjecture what remuneration I should demand. “I can’t
-let you have it cheap, gentlemen,” I said half-audibly with
-a triumphant smile, as I opened the door of the wine-room
-where I expected to meet my friends.</p>
-
-<p>To evade every possibility of being recognised by them,
-I meant to tell them that I should be going out of town
-to-morrow.</p>
-
-<p>This part of my programme also ran off smoothly. My
-friend Otto and all my other friends were present, and while
-my heart was leaping within me for proud joy over my
-new-discovered talent for adventure, I unfolded my fictitious
-plan of travel as coolly as possible.</p>
-
-<p>The only person who seemed to be interested was my
-friend Otto.</p>
-
-<p>“Going out of town?” he said. “Is it certain?”</p>
-
-<p>“Quite certain,” I replied; “I shall be leaving to-morrow
-morning.”</p>
-
-<p>“Where to?”</p>
-
-<p>“Humph—a short trip to the country—to visit some
-relatives.”</p>
-
-<p>“For how long?” he queried further.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_390">[390]</span></p>
-
-<p>“That depends; two or three days at the most.” It was
-really strange that he should be so inquisitive—and withal
-there was a peculiar look in his eyes. “He can’t know?”
-I asked myself involuntarily, but I did not complete my
-sentence. “That is all nonsense,” I said to myself; “he
-doesn’t even know anything about the novel—how could he
-guess anything?” Indeed, he seemed quite satisfied at
-last, and when I had left them all I walked home with the
-consciousness that things were going finely.</p>
-
-<p>“Are you the gentleman?” asked a deep, grumbling
-voice, when in the grey dawn of morning I entered the yard
-next morning.</p>
-
-<p>Without breakfast, for I had not wished to betray myself
-to my landlady, with a false beard on my face and a wig on
-my head, and an enormous pair of horn spectacles on my
-nose—my feelings can readily be imagined. And with all
-that I felt it incumbent upon me to feign a cheerful manner
-to keep Gustav—for I judged him to be the possessor of
-the bass voice—in good spirits.</p>
-
-<p>“The weather will be gorgeous to-day,” I said, apparently
-in the best of humour, while my teeth were chattering with
-cold. Gustav grunted like a bear disturbed in his winter’s
-sleep.</p>
-
-<p>“Can I put on the things?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p>Gustav pointed to the office. “In there,” he said; “I’ll
-be hitching up while you’re about it.”</p>
-
-<p>Soon after I came forth attired as a cab-driver.</p>
-
-<p>In the middle of the yard stood the cab with a horse
-before it, which in the light of early dawn looked like some
-antediluvian animal. Gustav was occupied with the harness,
-and seemed disinclined to take notice of me.</p>
-
-<p>“Here we are,” I said in a tone of assumed gaiety, which
-was not at all in keeping with my inmost mood. I seemed
-unspeakably ridiculous to myself.</p>
-
-<p>Gustav looked at me askance, and made some inarticulate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_391">[391]</span>
-ejaculation. His conduct was not particularly encouraging.
-Upon the box I saw some sort of a receptacle with an
-open top.</p>
-
-<p>“Aha,” I said, stepping up to it, “I presume this is the
-fodder-chest?”</p>
-
-<p>Gustav looked at the receptacle and then at me. “That
-there?” he said; “sure, that’s my hat.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, so——” I stammered in embarrassment; “your
-hat? Permit me.”</p>
-
-<p>It was with strange feelings that I took the hat from the
-box and held it in my hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Number twelve thirty-two,” said Gustav laconically.</p>
-
-<p>“Twelve thirty-two,” I repeated. It was the first time in
-my life that I felt I had a number.</p>
-
-<p>“At noon you have to feed him the first time,” Gustav
-informed me.</p>
-
-<p>“Feed whom?” I asked involuntarily; my thoughts were
-occupied with the hat, and I thought that was what he was
-referring to.</p>
-
-<p>Gustav seemed to consider it beneath him to answer my
-insipid question.</p>
-
-<p>“Between four and five,” he continued, “he gets his
-fodder again; do you know how to go to work to feed a
-horse?”</p>
-
-<p>He held the nose-bag in his hands and looked at me as
-if he had strong doubts as to my efficiency.</p>
-
-<p>“I have sometimes seen it done at the stopping-places,”
-I replied dejectedly, “but we might as well make a
-trial.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, go ahead,” he said, handing the receptacle
-to me.</p>
-
-<p>It was with some difficulty that I got the strap which held
-the bag adjusted around the horse’s neck; Gustav stood
-behind me with a critical air.</p>
-
-<p>“That ain’t right,” he said; “take the bit out first.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_392">[392]</span></p>
-
-<p>He now showed me how to take the bit out of the horse’s
-mouth, and then made me do it.</p>
-
-<p>The horse put his nose in the bag, and when he observed
-that there was nothing in it, he shook his ears, as much as
-to say, “I don’t think much of such practical jokes!” The
-horse seemed to share his master’s opinion of me, for Gustav
-was anything but satisfied, as his grunting tones proved.</p>
-
-<p>“Well now, go ahead!” he said at last, scanning me
-once more from head to foot. From under the seat he
-produced a dark bundle, which upon being unfolded proved
-to be his mantle; he thereupon proceeded to put it around
-my shoulders.</p>
-
-<p>“Bless us! This is heavy,” I said, groaning under the
-burden.</p>
-
-<p>As I seized the lines Gustav imparted his final instructions.
-“Here is the check,” he said, putting a piece of
-metal with the number of my cab into my hand; “now
-drive to the Schlesische Bahnhof and wait there; maybe
-you’ll get a job when the early train comes in. Give the
-check to the policeman; do you understand?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, yes,” I said; “I have often arrived by that station
-myself.”</p>
-
-<p>“And then when you’re ready to start give him a good
-whack with your whip,” he continued.</p>
-
-<p>“Whom?” I was about to ask once more, for I thought
-he was still talking of the policeman, but fortunately I
-suppressed my dulness.</p>
-
-<p>“For when he has been standing awhile,” explained
-Gustav, “the nag gets awfully lazy and his bones get stiff;
-but when he’s going he does very well, and then all you
-have to do is to let him jog along.”</p>
-
-<p>“Very well,” I said, seizing the whip, which he handed to
-me; “I’ll do precisely as you say.”</p>
-
-<p>Gustav opened the gateway preparatory to setting out. I
-jerked the reins and called out—“Go along!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_393">[393]</span></p>
-
-<p>The steed in my cab, however, did not pay the least
-attention to my manipulations; so far as I could see, he
-had fallen asleep again.</p>
-
-<p>I now began to belabour his back with the whip; even
-that was but half successful; he gave a little shrug of disdain,
-and stood still as if fastened to the ground.</p>
-
-<p>“You must hit around further to the front!” cried Gustav
-from the gate; “he don’t feel anything on his back any
-more!”</p>
-
-<p>So I whipped him on the neck, but, lo and behold, he
-did not seem to approve of such treatment. He threw his
-head back, shook his ears as much as to say, “Have the
-goodness to desist from such foolishness!” And when I
-paid no attention to his objections, he suddenly lifted his
-hinder part and “thump” went his hoofs against the cab,
-making me shake and tremble upon my box.</p>
-
-<p>Now Gustav came walking up to me slowly.</p>
-
-<p>“Give it to me,” he said, taking the whip out of my hand;
-“I’ll have a talk with him.”</p>
-
-<p>The way Gustav “talked to him” seemed to make a
-decided impression upon the steed, for before I knew it he
-started in a canter, so that I was obliged to seize the reins
-convulsively in both hands.</p>
-
-<p>“My hat,” I shrieked, for I felt that the cocked hat was
-parting company with my head in a graceful curve. It was
-not until I was out on the street that I succeeded in quieting
-the excited nag.</p>
-
-<p>“Dear me, this—is—a—malicious beast!” I called out
-breathless to Gustav, who was running after us with the hat
-and whip.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s only a bit ticklish,” he replied consolingly.</p>
-
-<p>I replaced the cocked hat upon the spot assigned to it.
-Gustav turned to go.</p>
-
-<p>I passed along the quiet streets with my vehicle on the
-way to the Schlesische Bahnhof. I now had time to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_394">[394]</span>
-examine my steed more closely. He was white, with a
-tinge of yellow, corresponding to the colour a white beard
-assumes if its owner frequently moistens it with beer.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp60" id="i_394" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_394.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“THE WAY GUSTAV ‘TALKED TO HIM’ SEEMED TO MAKE A DECIDED
-IMPRESSION UPON THE STEED.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>So we reached the Schlesische Bahnhof, where I joined
-the row of waiting cabs.</p>
-
-<p>I had now reached my first station, and I sat upon my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_395">[395]</span>
-box with attentive ears, so that no word of the conversation
-of my new colleagues should escape me.</p>
-
-<p>For the present there was little hope of accomplishing my
-purpose, for the only thing I heard was a grand snoring-chorus—the
-assembled drivers were making up for their
-interrupted morning’s sleep.</p>
-
-<p>I tried to reason myself into the belief that the situation
-was very original and interesting, but the thought of my
-orphaned bed at home, and its discarded warmth and softness,
-would not be banished, and all at once the consciousness
-that I was cold and hungry and bored beyond endurance
-was borne in upon me with unrelenting sternness.</p>
-
-<p>A vender of small sausages appeared upon the scene, and,
-although under ordinary circumstances the possibility of
-horse-meat would have caused me to abstain, I hastily came
-down from my box and purchased a pair of his charges.</p>
-
-<p>“Can you give me some paper,” I said, “to wrap them
-up in?”</p>
-
-<p>The sausage-man looked at me in surprise. “Bless my
-buttons,” he said,—“paper?”</p>
-
-<p>I perceived that I was betraying myself. So I turned
-quickly away, and seeing the policeman at that moment, I
-handed him my check. Then I scrambled up on the box
-once more, and devoured the sausages. I thereupon moved
-into a corner of the box, wrapped myself up close in my
-mantle, and fell asleep. A tremendous uproar awoke me.
-The train had arrived; the cabs from the right and left were
-set in rattling motion; in the portico stood a man bellowing,
-“One thousand two hundred and thirty-two,” at the top of
-his voice. He seemed to have been occupied in this way
-for some time, for his face was purple with the exertion.</p>
-
-<p>“Very good,” I said, smiling to myself; “there is a
-passenger who can’t find his cab; probably it will come to
-an altercation between him and the driver, and some of the
-most characteristic of Berlin phrases and expressions will
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_397">[397]</span>come to light. Novelist, prick up your ears; don’t let anything
-escape you.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp42" id="i_396" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_396.jpg" alt="">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_396">[396]</span>
-  <div class="caption">“IN THE PORTICO STOOD A MAN BELLOWING, ‘ONE THOUSAND TWO
-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-TWO!’”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“One thousand two hundred and thirty-two!” called out
-the man once more. I looked at him closely; he seemed to
-be a travelling merchant; a medley of trunks, bandboxes,
-and travelling-bags were lying about him on the ground.</p>
-
-<p>I looked about me smiling. “One thousand two hundred
-and thirty-two seems to be sleeping as sweetly as need be,” I
-said to myself.</p>
-
-<p>At that moment a voice struck my ear: “Twelve thirty-two—what’s
-the matter, old noodle-head? Are you sitting
-on your ears?”</p>
-
-<p>Quick as a flash I turned around. One of the small boys
-that hang around stations to help passengers find their cabs
-had pulled open the door of my cab.</p>
-
-<p>My stars! It occurred to me then that I myself was
-number one thousand two hundred and thirty-two.</p>
-
-<p>Before I had time to reprove the impudent lad, the
-passenger, who was quite blue in the face, began to fly
-at me.</p>
-
-<p>“Look ye here,” he cried in a loud voice, “it’s likely
-you left your ears at home! Here I’ve been standing an
-hour injuring my lungs by yelling out your confounded
-number!”</p>
-
-<p>I was trembling with rage. “Sir,” I said, inclining my
-head to him from my box, “I must politely request you to
-address me in a more befitting manner!”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t want any of your impudence,” bellowed the
-azure-hued merchant. “It’s your business to prick up your
-ears, that’s all; and if you don’t do it, I’ll ask you to
-accompany me to the police-station!”</p>
-
-<p>My blood was boiling with indignation, and, what was
-worse, I dared not reply, for fear my language would betray
-me.</p>
-
-<p>“Boys, fetch my things!” the merchant called out to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_398">[398]</span>
-lads who were clustering about, and all the trunks, handbags,
-and bandboxes were set in motion.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile my colleagues—as many of them as had not
-driven away—gathered about us, and I now heard my fill of
-the peculiarities of the Berlin vernacular that I had previously
-longed for.</p>
-
-<p>“Better put your spectacles on your ears, so you’ll hear
-better,” cried one.</p>
-
-<p>I tried to keep silent—but could I let such a brutal
-speech pass unchallenged? “It is very bad taste,” I
-replied with dignity, “to reproach a person for physical
-infirmities; if my near-sightedness enjoins the necessity of
-wearing spectacles——”</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t lose your breath, cabby,” cried a second, and a
-general laugh interrupted my speech.</p>
-
-<p>“Cabby sees with his ears and hears with his eyes,”
-shrieked one of the wretched boys. There was a laugh
-again; I was perspiring with indignation.</p>
-
-<p>“Take that up on the box,” cried my passenger in an
-insolent tone, thumping a heavy brass-nailed trunk down on
-my feet.</p>
-
-<p>I was about to recommend greater caution when he
-handed me a couple of curtain-poles wrapped in paper and
-tied together with a cord.</p>
-
-<p>“Take that too,” he commanded, “and see that it doesn’t
-slip down.”</p>
-
-<p>So it was a provincial upholsterer who was treating me
-thus! In spite of that, there was nothing for it but to obey
-his orders. I set the curtain-poles up on end and put my
-left arm around them.</p>
-
-<p>Now there was an uproar among the boys once more.
-“Cabby, hold the crow-bars tight!” cried one. “Cabby
-with the crow-bars!” yelled the boys, shrieking, bellowing,
-and whistling in a diabolical chorus.</p>
-
-<p>“To the tavern ‘Green Tree’ in the Klosterstrasse!”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_399">[399]</span>
-cried the overbearing voice of the upholsterer. He got into
-the cab, and shut the door with a bang.</p>
-
-<p>I seized the reins, the nag stood still, as if it were none
-of his concern.</p>
-
-<p>“Go along with ye, you wretched beast! Hello there!
-Skip along!” I muttered between my teeth; the abominable
-quadruped persisted in stubborn indifference. I
-brought the whip down upon him “toward the front,” as
-Gustav had advised me, and, sure enough, suddenly the cab
-quivered, struck with the hoofs of the balking steed.</p>
-
-<p>An infernal concert of wild jubilations arose about me.
-I sat upon my box in a state of wretched helplessness, and,
-to make matters worse, the travelling merchant put his head
-out of the cab.</p>
-
-<p>“How long is it going to take you to get started?” he
-called out, following up his words with a perfect volley of
-oaths. “Did anybody ever see the like of this?”</p>
-
-<p>One of my colleagues of the box was moved with
-brotherly pity, seized the malicious steed by the head, and
-put him in motion.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">The other drivers sat on their boxes taking a nap, and
-there was no opportunity of entering into conversation with
-them. I was very much depressed, took off my mantle, for
-it was growing warm, climbed up into my seat, and drove
-away to try my luck elsewhere.</p>
-
-<p>As we were jolting slowly across the Schlossplatz, there
-came straight across the square from the red Schloss a
-figure, the sight of which made my blood run cold—it was
-my friend Otto.</p>
-
-<p>Supposing he should recognise me,—I dared not think
-the thought, I felt myself blush and then turn pale under
-my beard. I turned my head to the other side, toward the
-Schloss, but as I involuntarily looked at him askance, it
-seemed to me that he was standing still. In fact so he was,—he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_400">[400]</span>
-stood there beckoning to me! I was seized with
-horror! “Beckon away as hard as you please,” I said to
-myself, driving on. Now I heard his voice: “Hello there,
-cabman!” I pretended not to hear, and still drove on.</p>
-
-<p>Then he came rushing with tremendous strides across the
-square.</p>
-
-<p>“Confound you!” he cried. “Don’t you hear me?”</p>
-
-<p>There was no further possibility of escape; I must needs
-pull up.</p>
-
-<p>Like a criminal over whom sentence of death has just
-been passed, I hung my head; with the corner of my left
-eye I saw that my friend Otto had on his best suit, and
-was carrying his summer overcoat over his arm.</p>
-
-<p>“Kanonierstrasse No.——,” he said, jumping airily into
-the cab. I started involuntarily. What did he want to go
-to the Kanonierstrasse for? I knew that he did not live
-there—none of our boon companions lived there, I knew
-that also,—but some one dwelt within that house whom I
-knew very well, and that was Emma, my friend of the ballet,
-my Emma! That Emma was true, true as gold, I knew,
-thank Heaven! At the same time a vague unrest took
-possession of me, and in flying haste did I urge my steed in
-the direction of the Kanonierstrasse.</p>
-
-<p>I riveted my eyes upon the house long before we reached
-it. Did my suspicion deceive me? Up there between the
-hyacinths did I not see some one look out? The wheels of
-my cab came rattling up before the door, no further mistake
-was possible; out of Emma’s window inclined a head with
-raven curls—it was hers! At the same moment my friend
-Otto impetuously pulled open the door of the cab, jumped
-out, and threw kisses to her. Then he put his hand to his
-mouth and called out: “I’ll wait for you down here with
-the cab. Come down, and we will have a drive in the
-Thiergarten.”</p>
-
-<p>I fell back into the corner of my seat. This was too<span class="pagenum" id="Page_401">[401]</span>
-much! The wretch! My own faithless beloved I was to
-take on a drive in the Thiergarten!</p>
-
-<p>Through my horn spectacles I cast one annihilating
-glance above; it fell upon no one, for Emma had left the
-window.</p>
-
-<p>For a moment I considered—should I tear the wig,
-spectacles, and beard from off my face, and so drop my
-disguise before the traitors? But the ridicule, the eternal
-ridicule! It seemed to me the whole Kanonierstrasse
-would stand on its head in appreciation of the joke.</p>
-
-<p>“Turn the top down,” commanded my friend Otto. “It
-is stifling in here.”</p>
-
-<p>Worse and worse! But what could I do? I scrambled
-down and began to do as I was bid. Meanwhile the street-door
-opened and Emma floated across the threshold. A
-sombre oath escaped me.</p>
-
-<p>“Now drive to the Thiergarten,” said my friend Otto.</p>
-
-<p>“Very well,” I replied, with terrible irony in my savage
-voice.</p>
-
-<p>The wretched couple behind my back seemed to be in
-the best of spirits, and as the cab was now open I could
-understand every word they spoke.</p>
-
-<p>“Did you receive my post-card?” asked the villain.</p>
-
-<p>“Of course I did,” replied the faithless one. “I did not
-know he was going out of town. Are you quite sure he’s
-gone? I’m in mortal terror.”</p>
-
-<p>“Never fear, my love,” he replied; “I was in his rooms
-this morning. He must have left very early.”</p>
-
-<p>I was furious. So this was the meaning of his interested
-questions the night before!</p>
-
-<p>Full of wrath I brought down my whip upon my horse.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t beat that horse so!” cried my friend Otto from
-the cab; “we are in no particular hurry.”</p>
-
-<p>I burst into a roar of hysterical laughter. The villain!
-he was pitiful toward the horse, more than toward his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_402">[402]</span>
-friend. Again the nag was called upon to bear the brunt
-of my indignation at my friend Otto.</p>
-
-<p>“The fellow must be mad,” said my friend Otto.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t talk so loud,” begged Emma.</p>
-
-<p>“Nonsense,” he replied. “I told you that he is as deaf
-as a poker; moreover, look at him. I believe he has false
-hair!”</p>
-
-<p>My wig had evidently become dislocated. I heard them
-giggle. For a moment I considered the propriety of
-turning my whip to good purpose behind me—but that of
-course would have betrayed me.</p>
-
-<p>The noise of passing carriages on Leipzigerstrasse made
-it impossible for me to hear what was passing between the
-couple; it was not until we had reached more quiet streets
-that I again caught some bits of their conversation. I
-perceived that I was again the subject thereof.</p>
-
-<p>“How do you get along with him?” asked my friend
-Otto.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh well,” responded Emma, “he’s a good enough
-fellow.”</p>
-
-<p>Whack,—the nag caught it again then, for the tone in
-which she said it roused my ire.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s so,” continued my friend Otto; “but he is a
-bore, an intolerable bore.”</p>
-
-<p>The knave! With bated breath I listened to hear what
-she would reply to this calumny.</p>
-
-<p>Emma giggled; that was as much as to say, “You are
-right.”</p>
-
-<p>I was in a fever of wrath.</p>
-
-<p>“Does he ever read any of his things to you?” asked
-my friend Otto.</p>
-
-<p>“Does he write?” she queried in surprise. The uneducated
-goose! The superficial hussy! Did she not
-know that I had already published two volumes of lyrical
-poetry? And she asks if I write!</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_403">[403]</span></p>
-
-<p>“I should think so,” replied my friend Otto, with an
-infamous roar of laughter. “Every little while he hatches
-a new poem a yard or two long, and reads it to his friends.”</p>
-
-<p>Emma shook with laughter.</p>
-
-<p>“So far he has spared me,” she observed.</p>
-
-<p>“Never fear, my love, never fear,” I muttered into my
-false beard; “you shan’t have any more opportunity to be
-bored by me!”</p>
-
-<p>In my mind I was composing the crushing farewell-note
-I intended to write to the faithless one on the morrow.</p>
-
-<p>After a time which seemed endless to me we reached the
-garden restaurant called “Charlottenhof.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hold on, driver!” bellowed my friend Otto, who, taking
-me to be deaf, considered it necessary to address me in his
-loudest tones. Then he turned to Emma.</p>
-
-<p>“Come, sweetheart,” he said, “we will have a glass of
-beer.” He helped her get down. “Wait till we come
-back,” he said to me. At the gate stood a waiter: “Fetch
-a glass of beer for the driver,” he added, and before I had
-time to enter protest he had stepped into the garden, arm-in-arm
-with his lady-love.</p>
-
-<p>Fully an hour and a half did my friend Otto see best to
-keep me waiting at the door, while he was amusing himself
-in the garden with his adored.</p>
-
-<p>I occupied myself with writing my obituary in spirit, and
-tears of emotion over my sad fate trickled down my beard.
-“By the fickleness of a heartless woman”—thus read the
-last page of my obituary—“and the depravity of a man
-whom he took to be his friend, was this poet’s heart broken,
-and this glorious possibility of immeasurable promise for
-Germany was nipped in the bud.”</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Ernst von Wildenbruch.</i>
-</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_404">[404]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="BON-MOTS"><i>BON-MOTS.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">E</span>VERYBODY is a genius, at least once in his life. The
-only difference is that the so called geniuses have their
-good ideas thicker. This shows how wise it is to put
-everything on paper.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">It</span> always grieves me when a man of talent dies, for earth
-has more need of him than heaven.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">This</span> book had the effect which all good books have: it
-made the dull duller, the wise wiser, and the other millions
-remained unchanged.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">One</span> of the greatest discoveries which human reason has
-made in modern times is, in my opinion, the art of judging
-books without having read them.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">He</span> had a couple of warts on his nose in a position
-which made them likely to be mistaken for the heads of
-nails, by means of which that feature might have been
-fastened to his face.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">It</span> is no art to say a thing in few words when you have
-something to say, like Tacitus. But when you have nothing
-to say, and write a big book, that’s what I call merit.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">He</span> combined the qualities of the greatest men in history:
-he carried his head on one side like Alexander the Great,
-he was always scratching his head like Cæsar, he could
-drink coffee like Leibnitz, and when he was comfortable in
-his easy-chair he would forget to eat and drink like Newton,
-and like him it was often necessary to wake him.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_405">[405]</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2">“<span class="smcap">Our</span> forests are growing thinner, the supply of wood is
-declining, what shall we do?” Oh, when our forests are
-used up there is surely nothing to hinder our burning books
-until there is a new supply.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Of</span> all commodities in the market there is none more
-remarkable than books. Printed by persons who do not
-understand them; sold by people who do not understand
-them; bound, reviewed, and read by people who do not
-understand them; and, best of all, written by people who do
-not understand them.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">He</span> was a most meritorious boy: before he was six years
-old he could say the Lord’s Prayer backwards.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">I have</span> found throughout life that when all other means
-fail there is nothing that will give you a surer clue to a
-man’s character than a joke which he takes amiss.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">I suppose</span> there is no man in the world who, if he turns
-thief for a thousand thalers, would not for half the money
-have preferred to remain the honest fellow he was.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Whosoever</span> says he hates all kinds of flattery, and says
-it in good faith, has surely not become acquainted with all
-kinds, in matter or in form. To be sure, people of sense
-hate ordinary flattery, because they must necessarily feel
-mortified at the amount of credulity with which the flatterer
-credits them. That is, they hate ordinary flattery, because
-to them it is no flattery. According to my experience, there
-is no very great difference in human nature. Each has his
-own coin for which he will sell himself. It is human invention
-to differentiate between human beings; it is pride which
-supports these distinctions. Nobility of soul is very much
-of a piece with nobility of birth.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_406">[406]</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">To</span> make persons of discernment believe that you are
-somewhat which you are not is as a general thing more
-difficult than to become what you would appear to be.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">If</span> you would know what other people think about an
-affair which concerns you, consider what you would think
-of them under like circumstances. Do not take any one
-for more moral in this matter than you are, or for more
-credulous. This remark is more than half true, and this
-is saying a great deal for a maxim which a person lays down
-in his thirtieth year, as I do this one.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">One</span> may rail at the faults of a great man, but one must
-not rail at the man for all that.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">It</span> is safe to take it as a sure sign that you are growing
-better when paying your debts gives you as much pleasure
-as making money.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Virtue</span> which is the result of good intention is not worth
-much. Impulse or custom is the thing.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">That</span> a false hypothesis is often to be preferred to the
-true one is shown by the theory of the freedom of human
-volition. Certainly we are not free, but it requires a very
-profound study of philosophy not to be misled by this
-knowledge. Freedom is the easiest explanation, and will
-remain the most popular one because appearances are for it.—<i>Lichtenberg.</i></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">The</span> story was told how St. Dionysius, after he had been
-beheaded, walked two miles with his head in his hand. “Two
-miles?” asked one of the company. “Yes, two miles;
-there is not the least doubt of it,” was the reply. “I will
-gladly believe you,” said a lady, wittier than the others;
-“on such occasions it is only the first step which is difficult.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_407">[407]</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">The</span> French ambassador came to Charles V. with the
-request that Milan should be ceded to his master the king.
-Whereupon the emperor merely replied, “The wish of my
-brother, the King of France, is my own.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">The</span> Duchess of Klingston desired to be admitted to the
-court circle at Berlin. She requested the Russian minister
-to take occasion to assure the king of her high esteem, and
-to tell him that she had been heard to say her fortune was
-in Rome, her fleet at Venice, and her heart in Berlin.
-When the king heard this he quickly responded with,
-“My compliments to the Duchess, and tell her I greatly
-fear she has favoured us with the least of her possessions.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">A great</span> gentleman said to his servant in a moment of
-caprice, “Tell me, John, supposing the devil should come
-to get one of us, which one do you think he would take?”</p>
-
-<p>“He’d take me, without a doubt, your honour.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why so, you absurd fellow?”</p>
-
-<p>“Because he has some chance of losing me, but he is
-quite sure of you,” was the reply.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">A witty</span> king, in travelling through his lands, passed a
-small provincial town in which great honour was shown
-him by the magistrate and burgomaster, the latter greeting
-the monarch in a solemn address. The most conspicuous
-thing about the portly little man was the well-rounded
-expansion of his spotless white vest. The day was very
-cold, and the speech was interminable. Suddenly the king
-interrupted the speaker, and, as if concerned about his
-health, pointing to the snowy vest, he graciously remarked,
-“My dear sir, I fear your <i>Mont Blanc</i> will catch cold!”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">The</span> presence of a university makes the country stupid
-for miles about.—<i>Börne.</i></p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_408">[408]</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">With</span> them (the troubadours) it is always the winter that
-goes and the spring that comes, and the <i>ennui</i> that
-remains.—<i>Schiller.</i></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">If</span> called upon to choose between the pangs of conscience
-and the pangs of toothache I should unhesitatingly choose
-the former.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">In</span> other countries when a citizen becomes dissatisfied
-with his government he emigrates, in France he requests
-the government to emigrate.—<i>Heine.</i></p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_EARLY_DAYS_OF_A_GENIUS"><i>THE EARLY DAYS OF A GENIUS.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE ancients considered it as a piece of rare good fortune
-if the gods permitted a person to be born in a
-celebrated town. As, however, this good fortune has not
-befallen some very celebrated men, since Bethlehem, Eisleben,
-Stratford, Kamenz, and Marbach were not originally
-brilliant points in the thoughts of men, I trust Hans
-Unwirrsch was not put out by the fact of first seeing the
-light of day in a small town called Neustadt. There are
-not a few towns and boroughs bearing the same name; but
-they have never quarrelled over the honour of counting our
-hero among their citizens. Johannes Jakob Nikolaus
-Unwirrsch did not make his birthplace any more celebrated
-in the world.</p>
-
-<p>Ten thousand inhabitants did this poor little town have
-in 1819; to-day it has one hundred and fifty more. It lay,
-and still lies, in a broad valley, surrounded by hills and
-mountains, down the sides of which the forest comes
-straggling into the precincts of the town. In spite of its
-name it is no longer new; painfully has it struggled
-along through stormy centuries, and is now enjoying a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_409">[409]</span>
-peaceful, sleepy old age. The hope of making a mark in
-the world it has gradually given up, and feels none the less
-contented for this. The sound of its church-bells makes an
-agreeable impression upon the wanderer, as he steps out
-of the woods on the nearest hill-top; and when it so happens
-that the sun is mirrored in the windows of the two
-churches and the houses, this same wanderer seldom remembers
-that all is not gold that glitters, and that evening-bells,
-fruitful fields, green meadows, and a pretty little town in a
-valley, is not enough by far to make an idyl. Amyntas,
-Palæmon, Daphnis, and Doris often lead anything but an
-idyllic life in the valley below. As the fleecing of lambs
-and sheep had gone somewhat out of fashion, people were
-reduced to pitching into each other’s wool, and sometimes
-fleeced each other with a will. But there was much marrying
-and giving in marriage, and altogether people passed
-through life with a measure of comfort; that they found
-living not particularly dear, bore a part in this happy
-consummation. The devil take things when fruit and cider
-fail, and milk and honey is rare in Arcadia!</p>
-
-<p>But we shall probably have further opportunity to lose
-words about this here and there, and if not it is no matter.
-For the present we must turn back to the young Arcadian,
-Hans Unwirrsch, and see how he finds his way about in
-life.</p>
-
-<p>A very uneducated woman was the wife of the shoemaker.
-She could read and write in an exigency, but her philosophical
-education had been completely neglected; she
-wept easily, and with pleasure. Born in darkness, she
-remained in darkness; suckled her child, set him on his
-feet, and taught him to walk—put him on his feet for life,
-and taught him to walk for life. That is great praise, and
-the most cultured mother can do no more for her child.</p>
-
-<p>In a low, dark room, into which but little fresh air and
-still less sunshine came, did Hans awake to consciousness;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_410">[410]</span>
-and that was well in one respect. Later on he was not too
-much afraid of the caves, in which by far the greater part
-of humanity partaking of the blessings of civilisation are
-obliged to spend their lives. All his life he took light and
-air for what they are, luxuries which fate gives or denies,
-and which it seems to deny more willingly than to give.</p>
-
-<p>The room on the street-side, which had at the same time
-been Meister Anton’s workshop, was kept unchanged in its
-former condition. With anxious care did the widow see to
-it that none of the tools belonging to the deceased were
-moved. Her uncle Grünebaum had declared his willingness
-to purchase all the unnecessary implements at an
-acceptable price; but Frau Christine could not bring herself
-to sell a single piece. In all her leisure hours she sat at her
-wonted seat beside the shoemaker’s work-table, and in the
-evening it was, as we know, only by the light of the glass-ball
-that she could knit or sew or read her hymnal.</p>
-
-<p>The poor woman worked hard to gain an honest living
-for herself and her child. In the little bedroom, the windows
-of which looked out into the yard, she lay many a
-night wakeful and anxious, while Hans Unwirrsch in his
-father’s large bedstead was dreaming of the large rolls
-and buttered slices of bread that the neighbours’ happy
-children enjoyed. Wise Meister Grünebaum did what he
-could by his relatives, but he was not very successful in his
-trade; he was too fond of delivering long speeches at the ale-house;
-and his customers were more willing to give him a
-pair of shaky boots to be mended than to order a new pair
-of him. It was with difficulty that he kept his head above
-water; but he was never chary about giving advice, indeed
-he gave it gladly and in large quantities, and unfortunately
-we must call attention to the not unusual fact that the
-quantity stood for the most part in no proper relation to the
-quality. Cousin Schlotterbeck, though by no means so wise
-as Meister Grünebaum, was more practical, and it was upon<span class="pagenum" id="Page_411">[411]</span>
-<i>her</i> advice that Frau Christine became a washerwoman,
-getting up in the morning between two and three, and
-returning at night tired and aching, to still the primary,
-physical hunger of her child, and translate his dreams into
-reality.</p>
-
-<p>Hans Unwirrsch retained faint, odd, and uncertain
-memories of this period of his life, which he has reported
-to his nearest friends. He had a light sleep from early
-youth, and so he often awoke by the light of a match, with
-which in cold, dark nights of winter his mother lit her lamp
-to prepare for her early walk. He lay in his warm pillow, and
-did not stir until his mother bent over him to see if she had
-awakened the little sleeper by the pattering of her slippers.
-Then he would throw his arms about her neck and laugh,
-while she gave him a kiss and an exhortation to go quickly
-to sleep again, for the day was far distant. This exhortation
-he would obey at once, or else later. In the latter
-case he looked at the burning lamp through his half-closed
-eye-lids, and at his mother and the shadows on the
-wall.</p>
-
-<p>Strange it is that all his recollections seem to be of
-winter; there was a misty atmosphere about the flame of the
-lamp; his breath made a cloud between him and the light;
-the frozen window-panes glittered, it was bitter cold, and
-the comfort he felt in his safe, warm bed was intermingled
-with terror of the bitter cold without, which made him pull
-the blanket over his nose.</p>
-
-<p>He never could understand why his mother got up so
-early, while it was so dark and so cold, and while such
-queer, black shadows were gliding along the wall, nodding,
-rising, and bending. Still more vague were his thoughts
-about the places his mother went to; in accordance with
-his momentary mood, he pictured them more or less
-pleasantly, mingling in all sorts of details taken from fairy-tales,
-and fragments out of the conversations of grown<span class="pagenum" id="Page_412">[412]</span>
-persons that he had overheard, and which in these misty
-moments between sleeping and waking took on more and
-more of a gaudy colouring.</p>
-
-<p>At last his mother was dressed, and once more she bent
-over the child’s bed. Again he received a kiss, a great deal
-of good advice, and many enticing promises, if he would lie
-still, not cry, and go to sleep again. The assurance was
-added that the morning, and with it Cousin Schlotterbeck,
-would be coming ere long; the lamp was blown out, the
-room grew dark, the door creaked, the steps of his mother
-passed away; soon he was fast asleep, and when he awoke
-again Cousin Schlotterbeck was generally sitting by his bedside,
-and in the adjoining room he could hear the fire
-crackle in the stove.</p>
-
-<p>Cousin Schlotterbeck, although she was not much older
-than Frau Christine Unwirrsch, had always been Cousin
-Schlotterbeck. No one in the Kröppelstrasse knew her
-by any other designation, and she was as well known in
-the Kröppelstrasse as the “old Fritz,” as the Emperor
-Napoleon, and old Blücher, although she had no further
-resemblance to these celebrated heroes than that she used
-snuff like the Prussian king, and had a hooked nose like
-the “Corsican bloodhound.”</p>
-
-<p>Of right she should have filled a chapter by herself in this
-book, for she had a gift of which not every one can boast:
-to her the dead had not departed this earth; she saw them
-walk the streets, she met them on the market-place as one
-sees the living, and comes upon them unexpectedly around
-the corner. There was nothing weird about this to her;
-she spoke of it as of something quite natural and unsurprising,
-and to her there was no difference whatever between
-the Burgomaster Eckerlein, who had died in the year 1769,
-and often met her in his wig and red velvet coat near the
-apothecary’s shop, and the grandson of this man, who
-owned this same apothecary’s shop in the year 1820, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_413">[413]</span>
-who was now looking out of the window with no faculty for
-seeing his grandfather walking below.</p>
-
-<p>Even in the minds of Cousin Schlotterbeck’s acquaintances
-this strange “gift” of hers no longer awakened horror.
-The unbelieving ceased scoffing at it, and the believing—of
-whom there was a goodly number—did not cross themselves
-any more. Upon the character of the good little woman
-this high favour had no perverting influence. She was not
-made supercilious by her marvellous seer’s gift; she took
-it as an undeserved favour of God, and remained more
-humble than many other people who did not see nearly as
-much as the oldish spinster in the Kröppelstrasse.</p>
-
-<p>As far as her external appearance is concerned, Cousin
-Schlotterbeck was of medium height, but she stooped perceptibly,
-and walked with a far-protruding head. Her clothes
-hung about her like something that does not belong there,
-and her nose was, as we have said, very sharp and very
-hooked. It would have impressed one disagreeably, this
-nose would, if it had not been for the eyes. But her eyes
-did penance for every sin her nose committed; they were
-remarkable eyes, and saw remarkable things. Clear and
-beaming they were up to her old age,—blue, young eyes in
-an old, old, dried-up face! Hans Unwirrsch never forgot
-them, although he looked into much more beautiful eyes in
-his life.</p>
-
-<p>To learning, Cousin Schlotterbeck was devoted in a naïve
-way. She had a tremendous admiration for wisdom, and
-particularly for theological wisdom; little Hans was indebted
-to her for an introduction to all the erudition of which he
-made himself more or less a possessor in later times. She
-could tell fairy-tales which would have delighted the hearts
-of the Brothers Grimm, and when the wicked queen put the
-golden pin into her stepdaughter’s head, Hans Unwirrsch
-felt the point of it piercing through to his very diaphragm.</p>
-
-<p>Hans and the cousin were inseparable during the first<span class="pagenum" id="Page_414">[414]</span>
-years of the boy’s life. From early morning till late at night
-the ghost-seer took the part of a mother to the child; without
-her advice and help did nothing occur which related to
-him; many a time did she appease his hunger, and many a
-more subtle hunger did she awake in him.</p>
-
-<p>Hans Unwirrsch was a precocious child, and learned to
-talk almost before he walked; reading was to him but play.
-Cousin Schlotterbeck understood this difficult art very well,
-and managed to stumble through the most incomprehensible
-big words.</p>
-
-<p>She liked to read aloud, and indulged in a nasal eloquence
-which was very impressive to the child. Her library consisted
-principally of a Bible, a hymnal, and a long row of
-almanacs standing in unbroken line from the year 1790,
-each of which contained a touching, or comic, or sensational
-narrative, as well as a goodly stock of receipts and nostrums,
-and a fine collection of funny anecdotes. For a susceptible
-childish imagination there lay a world of rare wonder in these
-old pamphlets, and spirits of all kinds arose out of them,
-smiling, grinning, threatening, and leading the young soul
-through various horrors and delights. A still greater impression,
-however, did the “book of books,” the Bible, make
-upon the boy. With shuddering rapture did Hans sit at the
-feet of his cousin, and dive into the mysteries of chaos; the
-earth was void and empty, until the light came dividing the
-darkness and the water under the land from the water over
-the land. When sun, moon, and stars began their dance, and
-signs, times, days, and years appeared, then he breathed
-anew; and when the earth brought forth grass, and leaves,
-and fruit-trees, and when the water, and the air, and the
-earth began to be peopled with moving and living animals,
-then he clapped his little hands, and felt ground under him
-once more.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp55" id="i_415" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_415.jpg" alt="">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_415">[415]</span>
-  <div class="caption">“WITH SHUDDERING RAPTURE DID HANS SIT AT THE FEET OF HIS COUSIN.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>But his days did not pass only with reading and listening
-to stories. As soon as Hans Unwirrsch did not throw his
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_416">[416]</span>hands about aimlessly any more, or put them into his mouth,
-his mother and cousin made haste to introduce him to the
-great principle of labour. Cousin Schlotterbeck was an
-ingenious woman, who managed to earn an extra penny by
-dressing dolls for a large factory, an occupation which was
-interesting enough for a child, and in which Hans liked to
-be helpful. Ladies and gentlemen, peasants and shepherds,
-and many other little personages of various social positions
-and ages, arose under the skilful fingers of his cousin,
-who worked away bravely with glue and with her needle,
-with bright bits of cloth and gilt paper, of which she gave a
-proper share to each, in exact proportion to the price. It
-was a philosophical occupation, which left one free to harbour
-a great many ideas, and Hans Unwirrsch took kindly to it,
-although, of course, his childish pleasure in the toys was
-soon lost. He who has grown up in a shop of Jack-in-the-boxes,
-takes little pleasure in each individual Jack-in-the-box,
-be he ever so gaudy and agile in turning up his toes.</p>
-
-<p>After Martinmas, which momentous day unfortunately could
-not be celebrated with roast goose, Cousin Schlotterbeck
-devoted herself to independent fabrication. She could very
-profitably apply her talent to plastic art; she formed little
-men out of raisins, to be sold at Christmas, and for more
-humble minds she made churls out of dried plums. The
-first fellow of this latter kind, who was manufactured by
-Hans without help, gave him as much pleasure as the
-hopeful art student experiences at the sight of the picture
-which gained him the <i>prix de Rome</i>.</p>
-
-<p>In his fifth year Johannes Jakob Nikolaus Unwirrsch was
-a little awkward fellow, in a pair of breeches which had been
-cut and designed for him to grow into. Out of bluish-grey
-eyes he looked merrily into the world and into the Kröppelstrasse,
-his nose had nothing characteristic as yet, his mouth
-promised fair to grow very large, and kept its promise. The
-yellow hair of the boy curled naturally, and was the prettiest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_417">[417]</span>
-thing about him. He had in every respect an excellent
-stomach, like all people who are designed to hunger a great
-deal in life; he got through with his A B C with no more
-difficulty than with the biggest slice of brown bread and with
-the fullest soup plate. The two women, his mother and his
-cousin, spoiled him, of course, to the best of their ability,
-and honoured him as crown-prince, hero, and world’s wonder,
-so that it was well when the Government interfered, and
-declared him old enough to go to school. Hans Unwirrsch
-set his foot on the lowest round of the ladder, which stands
-by the fruitful tree of knowledge, the door of the poor-school
-opened to him, and Silberlöffel, the schoolmaster, promised
-Cousin Schlotterbeck at the door that her “precious boy”
-should neither be murdered by himself nor by the hundred
-and sixty good-for-nothings who were subject to his rule.</p>
-
-<p>“Cousin” departed with a corner of her apron up to her
-eyes, and would not be comforted, until near the town well
-she met the pastor Primarius Holzapfel, who had died
-in the year eighteen hundred and fifteen, attired in his black
-surplice, with an enormous ruff about his neck, and a Bible
-in his hand. “Cousin” had been well acquainted with the
-pastor and his parents. His father had been a woodcutter,
-and his mother had died in the Hospital of the Holy Spirit;
-Primarius the pastor, with whose praise the town still rung,
-had occupied the very place in the poor-school to which
-Silberlöffel was taking little Hans.</p>
-
-<p>In a dark street, in a one-storey building, which had once
-been an engine-house, the community had instituted a school
-for poor children, after having refused for a long time to give
-up any building for so superfluous an object. It was a damp
-hole; almost at any time of day you could see the water run
-down the walls; fungi flourished in the corners and under
-the teacher’s desk. The tables and benches were moist and
-sticky, and during vacation they were always covered with a
-thin coating of mould. The windows it would be best not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_418">[418]</span>
-to mention; it was no wonder if in their vicinity there were
-also interesting growths of fungus. Neither was it a wonder
-if in the extremities of the teacher rheumatic knots formed,
-and in his lungs the most exquisite tubercles. It was no
-wonder if at times half of the pupils were ill with a fever.
-If the community had been called upon to put a marble
-monument on every child’s grave which was dug in the
-churchyard by its guilt, it would soon have supplied a new
-building for the school.</p>
-
-<p>Karl Silberlöffel was the name the teacher signed to the
-receipts for the enormous sums which he received quarterly
-from the State. Alas, the poor fellow had received this
-name as it were by the irony of fate; he had not been born
-with a silver spoon in his mouth. How can the Government
-be expected to bother about the schoolmaster Silberlöffel so
-long as the question as to what is the smallest possible
-amount of knowledge that may be permitted to the lower
-classes without harm and discomfort to the higher is still
-unsolved? For a long time to come the gentlemen puzzling
-over this question will consider the common schoolmasters
-as their enemies, and will look upon it as an absurd and
-altogether preposterous demand when dangerous and revolutionary
-idealists require them to do good unto their
-enemies, and at least dress them decently and feed them
-tolerably well.</p>
-
-<p>Later in life our hero often invited the country schoolmaster
-at Grunzenow to his Sunday dinner or his Christmas
-punch, remembering these first school-days and the poor-teacher
-Silberlöffel. Neither did he object when the schoolmaster
-on the Baltic put some of the good, nourishing things
-set before him into his pocket for his seven boys at home;
-he himself would fetch him an old paper to wrap them in,
-and help him crowd the bundle into his coat pocket.</p>
-
-<p>In the engine house at Neustadt the girls sat on the right-hand
-side and the boys on the left. Between these two<span class="pagenum" id="Page_419">[419]</span>
-divisions there was a passage from the door up to the
-teacher’s desk, and in this passage Silberlöffel walked,
-coughing, up and down, without one of his charge being
-moved thereby to pity. Long, very long, was the poor
-fellow; thin, very thin, was he; very melancholy did he
-look, and he had good cause.</p>
-
-<p>Another in his place would have raised his spirits, and
-warmed himself in the damp, cold room by lustily whipping
-the boys; but he was beyond that even. His faint ventures
-in this line were considered as a good joke merely; his
-authority was below zero. A pitiful reproach to all well-dressed
-people were the garments of this worthy man;
-especially the hat acted a perfect tragedy with its possessor.
-The point between the two was which should survive the
-other, and the hat seemed to know that it would carry the
-prize. A diabolical taunt seemed to grin from out of its boils
-and scratches. The villain knew that it would also survive the
-successor of the consumptive man; it was utterly indifferent
-to the mould and the dampness of the engine-house.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_420" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_420.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption"> “COUPLING TWO AND TWO OF THEM TOGETHER BY FIRMLY TWISTING
-THE ENDS OF THEIR HAIR INTO A KNOT.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Hans Unwirrsch entered the swarm of poor scholars by no
-means with sentimental feelings. After having conquered
-the first surprise and embarrassment, after having made himself
-at home in his new surroundings, he proved himself to
-be no better than any other scapegrace, and to the best of
-his ability took part in the pleasures and pains of this
-praiseworthy public institution. Friends and enemies among
-the boys were soon discovered; congenial spirits attached
-themselves to him, the uncongenial tried to pull him out of
-his views of life by the hairs of his head, and in single
-combat as in general skirmish he often came to grief,
-which, however, he bore like a manly chap, without seeking
-refuge behind his teacher. As a manly chap he also had, at
-this period of his life, a healthy aversion toward the female
-sex upon the benches at the right of the passage.
-He was fond of putting shoemaker’s wax on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_420">[420]</span>
-girls’ seats, and of coupling two and two of them
-together by firmly twisting the ends of their hair into
-a knot; he looked upon them with sovereign disdain as
-inferior creatures, who knew no other means of defence than
-shrieking, and through whom the schoolmaster was better
-informed about the left half of his school than the boys
-relished. At first there was not the least trace of chivalrous
-impulses and feelings within his bosom, but the time which
-was to hail the first awaking dawn in this respect was not
-far distant, and soon there was <i>one</i> little creature on the
-other side of the school who made her influence felt upon
-Hans Unwirrsch. There came a time when he could
-not bear to see <i>one</i> little fellow-pupil cry, and when he
-felt a nameless longing, which was not directed toward
-the great slices of bread and butter and hunches of
-cake which he saw other children devour upon the street;
-but for the present he impudently put his hands in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_421">[421]</span>
-the pockets of his baggy breeches, set his legs far apart,
-put himself firmly on his feet, and sought to emancipate
-himself as far as possible from the absolutism of
-womankind. No more now did he sit quiet and patient at
-the feet of Cousin Schlotterbeck and listen reverently to her
-teachings and exhortations, her fairy-tales and almanac
-stories, and her Bible readings. To the great discomfort of
-the good old lady did he daily manifest a more critical
-spirit. The almanac stories he knew by heart; no sooner
-did the “Cousin” begin a fairy-tale than he interrupted
-her to suggest emendations and ask impertinently ironical
-questions; to her kind exhortations he always offered confusing
-objections, which more than once put the good lady
-quite out of countenance. When, as was her custom, the
-good soul got entangled in a long-breathed genealogical row
-of biblical names, Hans took a truly diabolical pleasure
-therein, and tried to drive the poor creature deeper into the
-thorns, so that she at last with angry virulence would clap
-the book to and call her quondam “little lamb” a “saucy
-good-for-nothing.” Behind her back he was up to all sorts
-of trickery; yes, he went so far as to caricature her person
-before a select audience in the Kröppelstrasse, consisting of
-persons of his own age. In short, Hans Jakob Nikolaus
-Unwirrsch had now reached that stage in life during which
-loving relations with darkly melancholy looks and warning
-gestures prognosticated to this hopeful scion or youthful
-acquaintance a dark future, the beggar’s staff, prison, penitentiary,
-and at last, as an agreeable conclusion, a disgraceful
-death on the gallows. It is well that prophecies usually are
-not fulfilled.</p>
-
-<p>Naturally Hans now felt more drawn to his Uncle Grünebaum
-than to his mother and cousin. The original cobbler
-had much about him that was attractive to the youthful
-mind. To Hans, when in the company of this worthy man,
-time seldom seemed to drag.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_422">[422]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figright illowp56" id="i_422" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_422.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption"> “READING THE ‘TOWN AND COUNTRY HERALD’ WITH A
-LOUD VOICE TO HIMSELF AND HIS BIRDS.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Very dirty
-and neglected
-did the household
-and surroundings
-of Uncle Grünebaum
-look to
-any respectable
-woman. In his
-workshop it
-looked as if
-brownies had
-made their
-home, not with
-kindly intentions,
-but in the
-most bitter ire.
-A wilder topsy-turvy
-can scarcely
-be pictured.
-Uncle Grünebaum
-spent the
-greater part of
-his day and of
-his work-hours in hunting for something or other. The tool
-he was in search of was never to be found, and rummaging for
-it did not benefit the general aspect of things. Over and
-above all there was a perpetual noise of whistling, singing, and
-screeching birds in large and small cages upon the walls; a
-tree-frog in a glass by the window foretold the weather.
-But as for the political weather, Meister Grünebaum foretold
-it to himself, reading the <i>Town and Country Herald</i>
-with a loud voice to himself and his birds, an occupation
-which also took up a good deal of his work-time. The
-worthy Uncle Grünebaum did only just so much cobbling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_423">[423]</span>
-as was necessary to keep him and his birds alive, and to
-pay for the <i>Herald</i>. His glass at the alehouse was oftener
-scored than is good for a respectable citizen and shoemaker.</p>
-
-<p>During this period of his restless life Hans decidedly
-preferred the street and its details to domestic happiness, to
-the quiet undisturbed peace of his own home. Oh, thou
-blessed time of dirty hands and bleeding noses, of torn
-jackets and rumbled hair! Woe to the man who has never
-known thee! It were better for him if he had not known
-some other things which loving relations and friends with
-the darkly melancholy look blandly praised and recommended!</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<i>Wilhelm Raabe.</i>
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="NEWSPAPER_HUMOUR"><i>NEWSPAPER HUMOUR.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Shoemakers Apprentice</i> (passing by a baker’s stand):
-“Got any stale rolls?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Baker</i>: “Yes, my lad.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Apprentice</i>: “Serves you right. You should have sold
-’em when they were fresh.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">In Court.</span>—<i>Judge</i>: “How is it that you picked up a
-number of comparatively worthless articles, and left the
-money, which was close at hand, untouched?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Criminal</i>: “I hope your honour won’t find fault with
-me for that. My wife has been hard enough on me
-about it.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Restaurant-keeper</i> (to guest reading his paper): “I am
-very sorry, sir, to be obliged to ask you not to lunch here
-in future. You shake your head all the time. <i>I</i> know it’s
-the politics, but others don’t know it, and it’s hurting my
-reputation.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_424">[424]</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">At a Restaurant.</span>—“This beefsteak is so tough the
-knife won’t go through.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Restaurant-keeper</i>: “Waiter, another knife for the gentleman.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp78" id="i_424" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_424.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">“GOODNESS, HOW YOU LOOK, CHILD!”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Father</i>: “Goodness, how you look, child!”</p>
-
-<p><i>Frankie</i>: “I fell into the canal.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Father</i>: “What! With your new trousers on?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Frankie</i>: “I didn’t have time to take ’em off.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“<span class="smcap">Allow</span> me, Mademoiselle, to present this to you.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, no, I do not wish to accept a present.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is a volume of my poems.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, that is different. I could not have permitted you
-to give me anything <i>valuable</i>.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_425">[425]</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Judge</i> (to an individual notorious for thievish proclivities):
-“I was told you stole wood the other day. That is
-not true, is it, Peter?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Peter</i>: “Nay, Herr Judge.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Judge</i>: “The policeman says he found the wood at your
-house. That can’t be so?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Peter</i>: “Nay, Herr Judge.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Judge</i>: “Well, Peter, I’ll sentence you to six weeks in
-gaol. That’s not too much, is it?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Peter</i>: “Nay, Herr Judge.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“<span class="smcap">I wonder</span> why that gentleman over there is holding the
-paper up before his face for such an interminable length
-of time?”</p>
-
-<p>“The explanation is very simple. Because his tailor
-happens to be sitting at our table.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">A Considerate Youth.</span>—<i>Aunt</i>: “Well, Fritz, I hear
-you were flogged in school to-day?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Fritz</i>: “Yes, but it didn’t hurt.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Aunt</i>: “I thought I heard you cry.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Fritz</i>: “I did that to please the teacher.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“<span class="smcap">You</span> advertise your socks to have fast colours, and now
-I had on a pair for two days, and for a fortnight I have not
-been able to get the colour off from my feet.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, don’t you call that a fast colour? What more can
-you wish?”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">At the Livery Stable.</span>—“How much do you ask for
-this horse by the hour?”</p>
-
-<p>“One thaler.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is, I trust, counting up to the time when the horse
-returns? It is quite likely I shall be here somewhat
-later!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_426">[426]</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Doctor</i>: “I know just what will help you. You must
-drink two cups of very strong tea every morning.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Patient</i>: “Why, that is just what I have done for years.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Doctor</i>: “Then you must stop it.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“<span class="smcap">Henry</span>, my cigars are disappearing at a great rate. Is
-it possible that within the short time you have been in my
-service——”</p>
-
-<p>“Never fear, sir; I have three boxes full left from my
-last master.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Lieutenant A.</i> (relating his gallant adventures at the ball):
-“A crowd of ladies stood about me, waiting for me to say
-something very brilliant.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Lieutenant B.</i>: “Of course you kept them in suspense.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Lieutenant A.</i>: “Most certainly I did.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>New Burgomaster</i>: “No celebrity ever been born in
-this town?”</p>
-
-<p><i>First Citizen</i>: “Not yet, unfortunately; but all that will
-be different under your administration.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>A.</i> (to a young doctor): “How many rooms have you?”</p>
-
-<p><i>B.</i>: “First, there is a waiting-room.”</p>
-
-<p><i>A.</i>: “Pardon me for interrupting you. What do you
-call a waiting-room? Is it a room in which your patients
-wait for you, or one in which you wait for patients?”</p>
-
-<p><i>A.</i>: “Dr. Krampel has saved my life.”</p>
-
-<p><i>B.</i>: “I did not know that you were ever in his treatment.”</p>
-
-<p><i>A.</i>: “No, when I consulted him he advised me to go to
-another physician.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Poetry and Prose.</span>—“Tell me what it was that
-inspired you to write this glorious poem?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Poet</i>: “My youngest needed a new suit of clothes.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_427">[427]</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Lady</i> (roguishly to her partner): “So you too are a
-conductor on the road to Hades?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Young Physician</i>: “You mistake, I am less than that—in
-fact, merely a brakesman!”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Baroness</i>: “Your daughter will find a kind mistress in
-me. I trust she is accustomed to work and to early rising?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Peasant</i>: “That she is, ma’am. She can serve you as an
-example.”</p>
-<div class="figcenter illowp79" id="i_427" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_427.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">COQUETRY AVENGED.</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Coquetry Avenged.</i>—<i>Lady</i>: “Ah, Herr Lieutenant, I
-have rejected many addresses!”</p>
-
-<p><i>Lieutenant</i>: “Is that so? Well, you have had time to
-do so!”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Judge</i>: “Prisoner, do you confess your guilt?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Prisoner</i>: “No. The words of my counsel have convinced
-me of my innocence.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_428">[428]</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Lady</i>: “And so you are a friend of my son Edward? I
-shall be delighted to hear what news you can tell me about
-him. Is he enjoying his studies at the university, and has
-he grown accustomed to the intricacies of town-life? Has
-he learned to find his way about?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Student</i>: “Oh yes, he is all right so far as that is concerned.
-Only he has some difficulty in finding his way
-home from the tavern.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“<span class="smcap">Come</span>, John, get up on the mare!”</p>
-
-<p>“Pray, why should I make such a detour to get around to
-the other side?”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">At the Ball.</span>—<i>Gentleman</i>: “Do you play on the
-piano?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Lady</i>: “No.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Gentleman</i>: “Ah, then you sing?”</p>
-
-<p><i>Lady</i>: “No, sir,—neither have I had the influenza.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Maid</i> (to her young mistress, who has written a love-letter
-for her at her request): “Oh, thank you so much, Miss!
-The letter is beautiful. But please don’t forget to put a
-postscript: Excuse bad writin’ and spellin’!”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“<span class="smcap">It</span> is very provoking that your wife should have read my
-last letter to you. I thought you said she never opens your
-letters?”</p>
-
-<p>“She doesn’t generally, but you committed the folly of
-writing ‘Private’ upon the envelope.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">If</span> you ask a man for the date of his birth, he tells you
-only the year; if you ask a woman, she never tells you more
-than the day.</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Custodian of the Schloss at Heidelberg</i> (explaining the
-functions of his office to stranger): “What the professors
-are to the university, that <i>we</i> are to the Schloss.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_429">[429]</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">In Court.</span>—<i>Defendant</i>: “Gentlemen, I have much to
-say in favour of my client. First——”</p>
-
-<p><i>Prisoner</i> (interrupting him): “You’d better not give
-yourself any trouble trying to pull me through, Herr Doctor.
-I take it the gentlemen haven’t much faith left in either
-of us.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>A.</i>: “I wish I knew something to give my uncle for his
-birthday. He is such an old miser that no matter what I
-buy him, I’m sure he will not use it.”</p>
-
-<p><i>B.</i>: “Why, that’s glorious! All you have to do is to fill
-half-a-dozen of bottles with water, cork and seal them well,
-and stick on a label, ‘Old Rhine Wine, 1780.’”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Frederick</span>, a tailor’s apprentice, has lent a shilling to
-Henry, a barbers journeyman. To show his gratitude,
-Henry says: “Frederick, if you should ever get into straits,
-if all your friends should fall off from you; if your father
-and mother, your sister and brother, should leave you in
-the lurch, then come to me, and take my word for it, <i>I’ll
-shave you, and never charge you a penny</i>!”</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><i>Stranger</i>: “Beg pardon, sir, will you tell me which road
-I must take to get to the university?”</p>
-
-<p><i>First Student</i>: “I don’t know precisely myself. It is
-only two years since I came here. It is more likely you
-know, Bummer—you’ve been here for eight years.”</p>
-
-<p><i>Second Student</i>: “I? I have forgotten long ago.”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h3 class="nobreak" id="NOTE">NOTE.</h3>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Acknowledgments</span> are here tendered to Herr Wilhelm
-Raabe, for his kind permission to include the translation from
-<i>Hunger-Pastor</i>; to Herr Julius Stinde, for his kind permission
-to translate from the <i>Familie Buchholz</i>; to Herr W. H.
-Riehl and his publisher, to translate from <i>Jörg Muckenhuber</i>;
-to Herr Friedrich Theodor v. Vischer, and to the Deutsche
-Verlagsanstalt, Stuttgart, to translate from Herr v. Vischer’s
-<i>Auch Einer</i>; to Herr Ernst Eckstein, to translate from <i>Besuch
-im Carcer</i>; to Messrs. Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, &amp; Co.,
-Limited, and to Mr. Leland, for their kind permission to include
-Mr. Leland’s translations of Scheffel and others (see <i>Gaudeamus</i>,
-published by Messrs. Kegan Paul). Best thanks are also to
-be accorded to various German authors and publishers, who
-have so courteously sanctioned translated extracts.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_431">[431]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="BIOGRAPHICAL_INDEX_OF_WRITERS">BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX OF WRITERS.</h2>
-</div>
-<div class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_431" style="max-width: 12.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_431.jpg" alt="">
-</div>
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hugo von Trimberg</span> is said to have been the rector of a school
-near Bamberg, 1260-1309. He wrote several books of a didactic
-and satirical type, including <i>The Runner</i> and <i>The Gatherer</i>, the
-latter of which he tells us was lost during his lifetime. He
-severely denounces everything and everybody pertaining to the
-younger generation, and chants the praises of the “good old
-times.” His writings are somewhat desultory, and their chief
-interest lies in the inserted fables which serve him to spin out a
-moral.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hans Sachs</span> was born at Nuremberg, on 5th November 1494. In
-his fifteenth year he was apprenticed to a shoemaker, and was
-instructed in the elements of “master-singing” by the linen-draper
-Nunnenbeck. As a travelling journeyman in his trade he
-visited the schools of all the celebrated master-singers of Germany.
-Returning after five years to his native town, he devoted himself
-to his calling of shoemaker and to the art of song. His first
-poetic production was a hymn which he composed in Munich in
-1514. The Reformation inspired him to an allegorical ode in
-honour of Luther, entitled “Die Wittembergisch Nachtigal,”
-which was followed by a great number of short religious poems.
-He died at Nuremberg in 1576, his last years having been clouded
-by insanity. He was an extraordinarily prolific writer of songs,
-plays, and farces.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Christoffel von Grimmelshausen</span> (1620-1676) was born at Gelnhausen.
-During his youth he served in the army, and his
-experiences of life as a soldier in the Thirty Years’ War are related
-in the romance of <i>Simplicius Simplicissimus</i>. During his later
-years he was mayor of the small town of Renchen, in the Black
-Forest. In his various writings he made use of a whimsical collection
-of <i>noms-de-plume</i>, thereby somewhat complicating the task
-of literary research.</p>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_432">[432]</span></p>
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ludwig Tieck</span> (1773-1853) was the son of a rope-maker in Berlin.
-In his studies at the universities of Halle, Göttingen, and Erlangen,
-he devoted special attention to the Romanic languages, and later,
-at Berlin, to the history of art, Old German poetry, and modern
-literature. He soon found himself in opposition to the views of
-poetry then popular. After his marriage, he lived for a while in
-Jena on intimate terms with the two Schlegels, removing with
-them to Dresden, and later publishing an “Almanac of the Muses”
-in company with A. W. Schlegel. After 1840 he received a
-pension from Frederick William IV. of Prussia; he took up his
-residence at Berlin, where he died. He contributed a great
-deal to the Shakespeare literature of Germany, with the aid of
-historical and literary studies on this subject made during a visit
-to London in 1818, and wrote many dramas, lyrics, and novels, as
-well as works of severe literary criticism.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Jean Paul Friedrich Richter</span>, commonly called Jean Paul, was
-born in 1763 at Wunsiedel, in the Baireuth district. His writings
-abound in pleasing recollections of his youthful days, though these
-were spent in poverty. After passing through the gymnasium at
-Hof, and pursuing a course of studies at Leipsic, he made some
-attempts in satire, but without success. He was for some time
-employed as private tutor in several families, and after the publication
-of an incomplete romance entitled <i>The Invisible Lodge</i>,
-gained a reputation as a humorist. His later works include
-<i>Hesperus</i>, <i>The Life of Quintus Fixlein</i>, <i>Titan</i>, <i>Siebenkäs</i>, <i>Wild
-Oats</i>, and several other discursive romances. He was induced
-by his friendship for Herder to revisit Weimar in 1798, remaining
-there until 1800, when he went to Berlin. A few years afterwards
-he received a pension, which enabled him to live in modest and
-comfortable circumstances at Baireuth, where he died in 1825.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">August Friedrich Ferdinand von Kotzebue</span> (1761-1819) was
-born at Weimar, where his father held a high position at court.
-He studied at Jena, and subsequently held several political offices
-in Russia, as well as Germany. His first writings did much to rob
-him of public respect. In 1798 he went to Vienna to take charge
-of the court theatre. Soon after, when on his way to St. Petersburg,
-he was sent to Siberia. He continued to write during his
-exile, was recalled, and came to live at Jena, which place he left,
-however, because of his perpetual animosity for Goethe. He was
-intensely unpatriotic, and indulged himself repeatedly in his writings
-in pouring out invectives upon German Liberal politicians on the
-one hand, and upon the Romantic school and the reform of the
-drama attempted by Schiller on the other. His motives in
-literature, as in politics, were purely mercenary. So venomous
-was he in his attacks upon the ideals of the German “Burschenschaften”
-that he aroused the fanaticism of a young student,
-Ludwig Sand, who, moreover, suspecting him of acting as a Russian
-spy, assassinated him at Mannheim.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_433">[433]</span></p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Johann Heinrich Daniel Zschokke</span> (1771-1848), born in Magdeburg,
-and educated at the gymnasium connected with the monastery
-at that place. In 1788 he left his native town, and joining a
-company of actors, he roamed about as a playwright. He then
-studied philosophy, theology, history, and art at Frankfort-on-Oder,
-and became a tutor there. He filled several responsible political
-positions in Switzerland, until he retired in 1841 to his country-house
-near Aarau, where he died. He wrote a number of dramas,
-<i>Aballino, the Great Bandit</i>, <i>The Iron Mask</i>, etc., as well es countless
-romances, novels, and books of travel.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Louis Charles Adelbert von Chamisso</span> (1781-1838) was a member
-of the old and aristocratic French family Chamisso de Boncourt,
-who were expelled from France by the Revolution, in which they
-lost their estates. Adelbert lived with his parents in Berlin, where
-he subsequently entered the Prussian army, accompanied the
-navigator Otto von Kotzebue on a voyage round the world, and
-then held for some years an appointment at the Botanic Garden
-in Berlin, where he died. He was a very versatile writer.
-Besides his lyrics and the fantastic story of <i>Peter Schlemihl</i>, which
-gained him a name in German literature, he wrote <i>De animalibus
-quibusdam e classe vermium Linnæi</i>, <i>Über die Hawaiisprache</i>, and
-<i>Bemerkungen und Ansichten auf einer Entdeckungsreise unter
-Kotzebue</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heinrich Heine</span> (1799-1856) was born at Düsseldorf, of Jewish
-parents. He devoted himself to a mercantile calling at Hamburg
-for a while, then studied law at Berlin, Bonn, and Göttingen,
-adopted Christianity in 1825, edited the <i>Political Annals</i> in
-company with Murhard, lived at Berlin, Munich, and Hamburg,
-and finally in Paris, where he received a pension for his literary
-services up to his death.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Moritz Gottlieb Saphir</span> was born in 1795 at a small Hungarian
-town, where his grandfather, under the decree of the Emperor
-Joseph II. compelling the Jews to take family names, had adopted
-the name of Saphir. Intending at first to become a merchant, this
-idea soon grew distasteful to him. He went to Prague to
-study the Talmud; then began to devote himself entirely to literature,
-and soon wrote some verses, which showed his satirical talent.
-At Vienna his satirical muse made him so many enemies that he went
-to Berlin, where he wrote and edited a great many humorous
-books. He was obliged to leave Berlin also, and going to live at
-Munich, he got into trouble on account of some satirical passages
-which were supposed to refer to the King of Bavaria, and which
-resulted in his imprisonment. He died at Baden, near Vienna, in
-1858.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Wilhelm Hauff</span> was born at Stuttgart in 1802, studied theology at
-Tübingen, became tutor in a private family at Stuttgart, and
-subsequently edited a paper in that town. He aimed at improving<span class="pagenum" id="Page_434">[434]</span>
-the public taste, which had been greatly influenced by H. Clauren.
-With this object he wrote a novel, <i>The Man in the Moon</i>, purporting
-to be written by Clauren. Having lost the ensuing law-suit,
-Hauff wrote his celebrated <i>Controversy about the Man in the Moon</i>.
-He also wrote <i>Die Memoiren des Satans</i>, <i>Lichtenstein</i>, <i>Die
-Bettlerin von Pont des Arts</i>, <i>Die Phantasien im Bremer Rathskeller</i>,
-etc. He died at Stuttgart, September 18th, 1827.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eduard Mörike</span> (1804-1875), born at Ludwigsburg, studied at
-Tübingen, was pastor at Keber-Sulzbach, near Heilbronn, then
-teacher at Stuttgart. He belonged to the Suabian school of
-poets, wrote verses and novels, among the latter, <i>Das Stuttgarter
-Hutzelmännlein</i>, <i>Iris</i>, <i>Idylle am Bodensee</i>, etc.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Friedrich Theodor von Vischer</span> (1807-1889), a celebrated writer on
-Æsthetics of the Hegelian school. He was born at Ludwigsburg,
-studied theology, and accepted a position as vicar at Harrheim.
-He went to Tübingen in 1833, and became first an extraordinary
-and then ordinary professor of æsthetics and German literature.
-On account of the too great liberality of his inaugural address he
-was at once suspended for two years. In 1848 he entered the
-Frankfort Parliament, where he occupied a position as an extreme
-radical. In 1855 he was called to the Polytechnical Institute at
-Zürich, and later filled a similar position at Stuttgart. Besides his
-greatest work, entitled <i>Æsthetics, or the Science of the Beautiful</i>,
-he wrote <i>The Sublime and the Comic</i>, and a third part to Goethe’s
-<i>Faust</i>, a parody of Goethe’s second part, as well as a great deal of
-prose and verse in a satirical and aphoristic vein, and many critical
-works on æsthetics.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Fritz Reuter</span> (1810-1874), born at Stavenhagen, in Mecklenburg-Schwerin,
-studied law at Rostock, went to Jena in 1832 and joined
-the Burschenschaft, which was then in very ill favour with the
-strongly Conservative government as promulgating Liberal tendencies.
-He was imprisoned, and after being in custody a year
-was sentenced to death. This sentence was modified by the
-king to lifelong imprisonment. He was taken to Fort Dömitz,
-and remained there until 1840, when he was released in
-consequence of the Prussian amnesty. He took charge of his
-father’s estate at Stavenhagen, later going to Treptow as a tutor
-in a private family; later he devoted himself exclusively to
-literature at Neubrandenburg and then at Eisenach, where he died.
-His novels, comedies, and poems were all written in the Low-German
-dialect. Some of the best known are <i>Seed-Time and
-Harvest</i>, <i>Olle Kamellen</i>, <i>Ut mine Festungstid</i> (Aus meiner Festungszeit),
-<i>Die Reis’na Constantinopel</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ernst Kossak</span> (1814-1880), born at Marienwerder, and died at Berlin.
-Wrote <i>Aus dem Wanderbuch eines litterarischen Handwerksburschen</i>,
-<i>Historietten</i>, <i>Berliner Silhouetten</i>, etc.</p>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_435">[435]</span></p>
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Gottfried Keller</span> (1815-1887), born at Zürich, took up landscape-painting,
-and went to Vienna to continue his art studies. Returning
-to his native town in 1842, he gave up painting and devoted himself
-entirely to literary pursuits. Receiving some pecuniary aid from
-the Zurich Senate, he went to Heidelberg in 1848, and to Berlin in
-1850, to study philosophy and dramaturgy. He then returned to
-Zürich. Among his novels, <i>Der grüne Heinrich</i> and <i>Die Leute
-von Seldwyla</i> are best known.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Friedrich Wilhelm von Hackländer</span> (1816-1877), novelist and
-comedy-writer, born at Burtscheid, near Aachen. Entered
-the mercantile profession, left it for the army, which he soon
-found distasteful. Discovering a talent for story-telling, he wrote
-many novels and sketches about military life, and some more
-ambitious works of fiction, as <i>Europäisches Sklavenleben</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Richard Volkmann</span> (<i>nom-de-plume</i> Richard Leander), 1830-1891,
-son of the celebrated physiologist Alfred Wilhelm Volkmann,
-resided at Halle, in the office of President of the Chirurgical
-Hospital and Medical Professor at the University. Besides a
-number of scientific works he wrote <i>Poems</i>, <i>Aus der Burschenzeit</i>,
-and <i>Träumereien an französischen Kaminen</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heinrich Schaumberger</span> (1843-1874), born at Neustadt-a-d-Heide,
-was a Common school-teacher; he was consumptive, and died at
-Davost. Wrote <i>Volkserzählungen</i>, <i>Vater und Sohn</i>, <i>Im Hirtenhaus</i>,
-etc.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Petri Kettenfeier Rosegger</span>, born at Alpl in Obersteiermark, in
-1843. He was the son of peasants, and received only a
-most elementary education. Being too delicate for a yeoman, he
-was apprenticed to a tailor in his seventeenth year. During the
-time of his apprenticeship he became interested in books, and tried
-his hand at literature. The editor of a paper to whom he
-had sent some of his work became interested in him, and through
-his intercession he was admitted to the Mercantile Academy
-at Graz. He subsequently received a stipend enabling him to
-complete his education. He then went to Graz, where he
-edited a monthly magazine and devoted himself to literary work.
-His novels, under the title of <i>Ausgewählte Schriften</i>, comprising
-twenty-three volumes, are published at Vienna.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Wilhelm Heinrich Riehl</span>, born 1823, at the little town of Biebrich
-on the Rhine. Studied at Marburg, Tübingen, Bonn, and Giessen.
-Edited several papers, and after having been made a member
-of the <i>Deutsche Nationalversammlung</i> founded the <i>Nassauische
-Allgemeine Zeitung</i>, at the same time undertaking the musical
-management of the Wiesbaden Theatre. In 1854 he was made
-Professor of Jurisprudence and Science of Government at Munich.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_436">[436]</span>
-Later he became a member of the Academy of Science, and
-Director of the Bavarian National Museum. His books, published
-at Stuttgart, are mostly on historical subjects—<i>Civilised Society</i>,
-<i>Natural History of the German People</i>, etc.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Franz von Schönthan</span>, born at Vienna in 1849, entered the navy,
-which he left after four years to go on the stage. After having
-written a number of novels and comedies he was engaged as
-comedy-writer for the Wallner Theatre at Berlin. He subsequently
-filled a position at the Vienna Theatre.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Julius Stinde</span>, born 1841, at Kirch-Michel, in Holstein. Studied
-natural science. Occupied a position as chemist in a factory at
-Hamburg. Subsequently took charge of the Hamburg <i>Gewerbeblatt</i>,
-and devoted himself solely to literature, more especially to
-the popularisation of science. Later he wrote comedies in Low-German,
-which were very well received. Among his humorous
-writings, the <i>Familie Buchholz</i> has contributed most to his international
-popularity.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Bogumil Goltz</span> (1801-1870), humorous and didactic writer, born
-at Warsaw; studied at Breslau. Bought several estates, in the
-management of which he was unsuccessful. Lost the greater part of
-his fortune and settled down at Thorn, to live the life of a literary
-recluse, though he often travelled. Wrote <i>Typen der Gesellschaft</i>,
-<i>Der Mensch und die Leute</i>, <i>Zur Physiognomie und Charakteristik
-des Volkes</i>, etc.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eduard Pötzl</span>, born 1851, at Vienna. Editor of <i>Neues Wiener
-Tageblatt</i>. Wrote humorous novels and sketches, dealing with
-Vienna life and the Austrian courts of justice.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Paul Lindau</span>, born in 1839, at Magdeburg. Editor of the well-known
-review, <i>Nord und Süd</i>; dramatic writer. Lived at Paris for
-several years as a literary correspondent to a number of German
-papers. Founded the <i>Gegenwart</i>. Has written many dramas and
-novels in a vein of caustic satire and wit. Also well known as a
-translator of French comedies.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ernst Eckstein</span>, born 1845 at Giessen. Wrote many satirical epics
-and literary essays. Founded the humorous paper <i>Der Schalk</i>.
-Well known through his comedies and dramas, and as a prolific
-novelist.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Julius Stettenheim</span>, born at Hamburg, 1831, now living at
-Berlin. Editor of the <i>Wespen</i> and of <i>Humoristisches Deutschland</i>.
-Wrote numberless <i>humoresques</i>, of which <i>Wippchen’s sämtliche
-Kriegsberichte</i> is best known.</p>
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_437">[437]</span></p>
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Johannes Scherr</span>, born 1817, at Hohenrechberg. After studying at
-Zürich and Tübingen, he taught for a while at Stuttgart, and took a
-prominent part in Liberal politics. In 1849 he fled to Switzerland
-on account of political difficulties, and in 1860, after an interval
-of literary activity, was made Professor of History and Literature
-at Zürich. His most prominent works are a number of histories
-dealing with certain tendencies and developments of civilisation.
-He also wrote humorous and other stories.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Babette von Bülow</span> (contemporary) writes under the <i>nom-de-plume</i>
-of Hans Arnold. Born at Warmbrunn, in 1850. Has written
-a number of stories, the subjects being mostly of child-life.</p>
-
-<p class="center bt p2">THE WALTER SCOTT PRESS, NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE.</p>
-<div class="chapter">&#160;</div>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-  <p><img src="images/i_b1first.jpg" width="600" height="323" class="splitl" alt="">
-
-  <img src="images/i_b1second.jpg" width="192" height="487" class="splitl" alt=""></p>
-<p>
-  <img src="images/i_b1.jpg" width="400" height="527" class="figcenterepub" alt="">
-</p>
-<p class="center"><i>Cloth Elegant, Large Crown 8vo,
-Price ³⁄₆ per vol.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="large">INTERNATIONAL
-HUMOUR.</span></p>
-
-<p class="center">EDITED BY W. H. DIRCKS.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Each Volume will contain from 50 to 70 Illustrations and
-from 350 to 500 pages.</i></p>
-
-<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">In</span> each of these volumes the object will be to
-give an anthology of the humorous literature
-of the particular nation dealt with. France,
-Germany, Italy, Russia, Spain, and Holland
-will each have their respective volumes; England,
-Ireland, and Scotland will each be represented,
-as will also America and Japan. ‘From China
-to Peru’ the globe will be traversed in search of its jokes, in
-so far as they have recorded themselves in literature. The
-word Humour admits of many interpretations; for the purposes
-of this Series it has been interpreted in its broadest
-generic sense, to cover humour in all its phases as it has
-manifested itself among the various nationalities. Necessarily
-founded on a certain degree of scholarly knowledge, these
-volumes, while appealing to the literary reader, will nevertheless,
-it is hoped, in the inherent attractiveness and variety
-of their contents, appeal successfully and at once to the interest
-of readers of all classes. Starting from the early periods
-of each literature—in Italy, for instance, from the fourteenth
-century, with Boccaccio, Sacchetti, and Parabosco; in France
-with the amusing Fabliaux of the thirteenth century; in Germany
-from Hans Sachs; characteristic sketches, stories, and extracts
-from contemporary European and other writers whose genius is
-especially that of humour or <i>esprit</i> will be given. Indicating
-and suggesting a view and treatment of national life from a
-particular standpoint, each volume will contain matter suggestive
-of the development of a special and important phase of national
-spirit and character,—namely, the humorous. Proverbs and
-maxims, folk-wit, and folk-tales notable for their pith and humour,
-will have their place; the eccentricities of modern newspaper
-humour will not be overlooked. Each volume will be well and
-copiously illustrated; in many cases artists of the nationalities of
-the literatures represented will illustrate the volumes. To each
-volume will be prefixed an Introduction critically disengaging and
-marking the qualities and phases of the national humour dealt
-with; and to each will be appended Notes, biographical and
-explanatory.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter illowp93" id="i_b2" style="max-width: 25em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_b2.jpg" alt="">
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
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-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_b3.jpg" alt="">
-</div>
-
-<p class="center large">INTERNATIONAL HUMOUR.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Cloth Elegant, Large Crown 8vo, Price ³⁄₆ per vol.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">Among the early Volumes will be the following:—</p>
-
-<p class="hang">THE HUMOUR OF FRANCE. Translated, with an Introduction
-and Notes, by Elizabeth Lee. With numerous Illustration by
-Paul Frénzeny.</p>
-
-<p class="hang">THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY. Translated, with an
-Introduction and Notes, by Hans Müller-Casenov. With numerous
-Illustrations by C. E. Brock.</p>
-
-<p class="hang">THE HUMOUR OF ITALY. Translated, with an Introduction
-and Notes, by A. Werner. With 50 Illustrations and a Frontispiece
-by Arturo Faldi.</p>
-
-<p class="hang">THE HUMOUR OF RUSSIA. Translated, with Notes, by
-E. L. Boole, and an Introduction by Stepniak. With 50 Illustrations by
-Paul Frénzeny.</p>
-
-<p class="hang">THE HUMOUR OF HOLLAND. Translated, with an Introduction
-and Notes, by A. Werner. With Numerous Illustrations.</p>
-
-<p class="hang">THE HUMOUR OF SPAIN. Translated, with an Introduction
-and Notes, by S. Taylor. With numerous Illustrations.</p>
-
-<p class="hang">THE HUMOUR OF AMERICA. Edited, with an Introduction
-and Notes, by J. Barr (of the <i>Detroit Free Press</i>). With numerous
-Illustrations by C. E. Brock.</p>
-
-<p>To be followed by volumes representative of <span class="smcap">England</span>, <span class="smcap">Scotland</span>,
-<span class="smcap">Ireland</span>, <span class="smcap">Japan</span>, etc. The Series will be complete in about
-twelve volumes.</p>
-
-<p class="center bt"><span class="smcap">London:</span> WALTER SCOTT, <span class="smcap">Ltd., 24 Warwick Lane.</span></p>
-
-<hr>
-<div class="chapter"><p class="center">SPECIMEN ILLUSTRATION.</p>
-</div>
-<div class="figcenter illowp52" id="i_b4" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_b4.jpg" alt="">
-  <div class="caption">DOCTOR DECHAR: “AND YET YOU DECLARED THE OPERATION MUST
-BE DONE?”</div>
-
-<div class="caption">DOCTOR RAPPASS: “OF COURSE. YOU MUST ALWAYS OPERATE.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center p2 bt"><span class="smcap">London:</span> WALTER SCOTT, <span class="smcap">Ltd., 24 Warwick Lane.</span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter"><p class="u center"><i>AUTHORIZED VERSION.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p class="center"><i>Crown 8vo, Cloth, Price 6s.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="large">PEER GYNT:</span> A Dramatic Poem.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By</span> HENRIK IBSEN.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="allsmcap">TRANSLATED BY</span><br>
-
-WILLIAM AND CHARLES ARCHER.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>This Translation, though unrhymed, preserves throughout the
-various rhythms of the original.</i></p>
-
-<p>“In <i>Brand</i> the hero is an embodied protest against the poverty of
-spirit and half-heartedness that Ibsen rebelled against in his countrymen.
-In <i>Peer Gynt</i> the hero is himself the embodiment of that spirit.
-In <i>Brand</i> the fundamental antithesis, upon which, as its central theme,
-the drama is constructed, is the contrast between the spirit of compromise
-on the one hand, and the motto ‘everything or nothing’ on
-the other. And <i>Peer Gynt</i> is the very incarnation of a compromising
-dread of decisive committal to any one course. In <i>Brand</i> the problem
-of self-realisation and the relation of the individual to his surroundings
-is obscurely struggling for recognition, and in <i>Peer Gynt</i> it becomes the
-formal theme upon which all the fantastic variations of the drama are
-built up. In both plays alike the problems of heredity and the influence
-of early surroundings are more than touched upon; and both alike
-culminate in the doctrine that the only redeeming power on earth or in
-heaven is the power of love.”—Mr. <span class="smcap">P. H. Wicksteed</span>.</p>
-
-<p class="center p2 bt">London: <span class="smcap">Walter Scott, Limited</span>, 24 Warwick Lane.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p class="center"><i>Foolscap 8vo, Cloth, Price 3s. 6d.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center p2"><span class="large">THE INSPECTOR-GENERAL</span>
-<br>
-(Or “REVIZÓR.”)</p>
-
-<p class="center">A RUSSIAN COMEDY.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By</span> NIKOLAI VASILIYEVICH GOGOL.</p>
-
-<p class="center p2">Translated from the original Russian, with Introduction and
-Notes, by A. A. SYKES, B.A., Trinity College, Cambridge.</p>
-
-<p>Though one of the most brilliant and characteristic of
-Gogol’s works, and well-known on the Continent, the
-present is the first translation of his <i>Revizór</i>, or Inspector-General,
-which has appeared in English. A satire on
-Russian administrative functionaries, the <i>Revizór</i> is a
-comedy marked by continuous gaiety and invention, full
-of “situation,” each development of the story accentuating
-the satire and emphasising the characterisation, the whole
-play being instinct with life and interest. Every here and
-there occurs the note of caprice, of naïveté, of unexpected
-fancy, characteristically Russian. The present translation
-will be found to be admirably fluent, idiomatic, and
-effective.</p>
-
-<p class="center p2">London: <span class="smcap">Walter Scott, Limited</span>, 24 Warwick Lane.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter"><p class="center">IBSEN’S FAMOUS PROSE DRAMAS.</p>
-</div>
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Edited by</span> WILLIAM ARCHER.</p>
-
-<p class="center">Complete in Five Vols. Crown 8vo, Cloth, Price ³⁄₆ each.
-Set of Five Vols., in Case, ¹⁷⁄₆; in Half Morocco, in Case, ³²⁄₆.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>“<i>We seem at last to be shown men and women as they are; and at first it
-is more than we can endure.... All Ibsen’s characters speak and act as if
-they were hypnotised, and under their creator’s imperious demand to reveal
-themselves. There never was such a mirror held up to nature before: it is
-too terrible.... Yet we must return to Ibsen, with his remorseless surgery,
-his remorseless electric-light, until we, too, have grown strong and learned to
-face the naked—if necessary, the flayed and bleeding—reality.</i>”—<span class="smcap">Speaker</span>
-(London).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Vol. I.</span> “A DOLL’S HOUSE,” “THE LEAGUE OF
-YOUTH,” and “THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY.” With
-Portrait of the Author, and Biographical Introduction by
-<span class="smcap">William Archer</span>.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Vol. II.</span> “GHOSTS,” “AN ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE,”
-and “THE WILD DUCK.” With an Introductory Note.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Vol. III.</span> “LADY INGER OF ÖSTRÅT,” “THE VIKINGS
-AT HELGELAND,” “THE PRETENDERS.” With an
-Introductory Note and Portrait of Ibsen.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Vol. IV.</span> “EMPEROR AND GALILEAN.” With an
-Introductory Note by <span class="smcap">William Archer</span>.</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Vol. V.</span> “ROSMERSHOLM,” “THE LADY FROM THE
-SEA,” “HEDDA GABLER.” Translated by <span class="smcap">William
-Archer</span>. With an Introductory Note.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>The sequence of the plays <i>in each volume</i> is chronological; the complete
-set of volumes comprising the dramas thus presents them in chronological
-order.</p>
-
-<p>“The art of prose translation does not perhaps enjoy a very high literary
-status in England, but we have no hesitation in numbering the present
-version of Ibsen, so far as it has gone (Vols. I. and II.), among the very
-best achievements, in that kind, of our generation.”—<i>Academy.</i></p>
-
-<p>“We have seldom, if ever, met with a translation so absolutely
-idiomatic.”—<i>Glasgow Herald.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center p2 bt">LONDON: <span class="smcap">Walter Scott, Limited, 24 Warwick Lane</span>.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter"><p class="center">Crown 8vo, about 350 pp. each, Cloth Cover, 2s. 6d per vol.</p>
-</div>
-<p class="center">Half-polished Morocco, gilt top, 5s.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="large">COUNT TOLSTOÏ’S WORKS.</span></p>
-
-<p class="center">The following Volumes are already issued—</p>
-
-<ul class="center">
-<li>A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR.</li>
-<li>THE COSSACKS.</li>
-<li>IVAN ILYITCH, <span class="smcap">and other Stories</span>.</li>
-<li>MY RELIGION.</li>
-<li>LIFE.</li>
-<li>MY CONFESSION.</li>
-<li>CHILDHOOD, BOYHOOD, YOUTH.</li>
-<li>THE PHYSIOLOGY OF WAR.</li>
-<li>ANNA KARÉNINA. 3s. 6d.</li>
-<li>WHAT TO DO?</li>
-<li>WAR AND PEACE. (<span class="smcap">4 Vols.</span>)</li>
-<li>THE LONG EXILE, <span class="smcap">and other Stories for Children</span>.</li>
-<li>SEVASTOPOL.</li>
-<li>THE KREUTZER SONATA, AND FAMILY. HAPPINESS.</li>
-
-<li>Uniform with the above.</li>
-
-<li>IMPRESSIONS OF RUSSIA.</li>
-</ul>
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Dr. Georg Brandes.</span></p>
-
-<p class="center bt">London: <span class="smcap">Walter Scott, Limited</span>, 24 Warwick Lane.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter"><p class="center"><span class="large">NEW TWO-VOLUME SETS,</span>
-<br>
-IN NEW BROCADE BINDING.</p>
-</div>
-<p class="center"><i>4s. PER SET, IN SHELL CASE TO MATCH.</i></p>
-
-<table><tr><td>MALORY’S HISTORY OF KING ARTHUR</td>  <td>&#160;</td>
-    <td>2 Vols.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>&#160;</td><td>&#160;</td><td>&#160;</td></tr>
-<tr><td>ENGLISH FAIRY TALES</td> <td rowspan="2" class="tdc"><span class="large">}</span></td>
-<td rowspan="2" class="tdc">”</td></tr>
-<tr><td>IRISH FAIRY TALES</td>  </tr>
-<tr><td>&#160;</td><td>&#160;</td><td>&#160;</td></tr>
-<tr><td>HEINE’S PROSE</td>  <td rowspan="2" class="tdc"><span class="large">}</span></td>
-<td rowspan="2" class="tdc">”</td> </tr>
-<tr><td>HEINE’S TRAVEL-SKETCHES</td>
-</tr><tr><td>&#160;</td><td>&#160;</td><td>&#160;</td></tr>
-<tr><td>WHITE’S SELBORNE</td>     <td rowspan="2" class="tdc"><span class="large">}</span></td>
-<td rowspan="2" class="tdc">”</td></tr>
-<tr><td>MITFORD’S OUR VILLAGE</td>
-</tr><tr><td>&#160;</td><td>&#160;</td><td>&#160;</td></tr>
-<tr><td>WHITMAN’S SPECIMEN DAYS</td>    <td rowspan="2" class="tdc"><span class="large">}</span></td>
-<td rowspan="2" class="tdc">”</td></tr>
-<tr><td>WHITMAN’S DEMOCRATIC VISTAS</td>     </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class="center bt">London: <span class="smcap">Walter Scott, Limited</span>, 24 Warwick Lane.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<p class="center">NEW EDITION IN NEW BINDING.</p>
-
-<p>In the new edition there are added about forty reproductions
-In fac-simile of autographs of distinguished singers and instrumentalists,
-including Sarasate, Joachim, Sir Charles Hallé,
-Paderewsky, Stavenhagen, Henschel, Trebelli, Miss Macintyre,
-Jean Gérardy, etc.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p class="center"><i>Quarto, cloth elegant, gilt edges, emblematic design on
-cover, 6s. May also be had in a variety
-of Fancy Bindings.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">THE<br>
-
-<span class="smcap large">Music of the Poets</span>:<br>
-A MUSICIANS’ BIRTHDAY BOOK.</p>
-
-<p class="center">EDITED BY ELEONORE D’ESTERRE KEELING.</p>
-<div class="figcenter illowe6_25" id="i_b10">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_b10.jpg" alt="illustration">
-</div>
-<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">This</span> is a unique Birthday Book. Against each date are
-given the names of musicians whose birthday it is, together
-with a verse-quotation appropriate to the character of their
-different compositions or performances. A special feature of
-the book consists in the reproduction in fac-simile of autographs,
-and autographic music, of living composers. Three
-sonnets by Mr. Theodore Watts, on the “Fausts” of Berlioz,
-Schumann, and Gounod, have been written specially for this
-volume. It is illustrated with designs of various musical
-instruments, etc.; autographs of Rubenstein, Dvorâk, Greig,
-Mackenzie, Villiers Stanford, etc., etc.</p>
-
-<p class="center bt">London: <span class="smcap">Walter Scott, Ltd.</span>, 24 Warwick Lane.</p>
-
-<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[1]</a> Scaramuccio and Pierrot represent species of buffoons of the early
-theatre.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[2]</a> This was a thrust at Göttingen, which town Heine here couples
-with six others, notorious as the local scenes in comic literature.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[3]</a> The name of a gigantic cask of wine of 1624, one of the special
-sights of the Bremen Rathskeller. It is tapped only on great occasions,
-and in 1870 the town of Bremen sent a number of bottles of this wine to
-the Emperor William and Prince Bismarck at Versailles, as a valuable
-gift of honour.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[4]</a> The Devil is the speaker.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[5]</a> Even at the present day persons conspicuously marked in a student’s
-fray are not allowed to enter the theological profession, unless there is a
-fair prospect that the scar may be hidden under a prospective beard.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[6]</a> The Duke was a pronounced woman-hater, and objected most
-vehemently to the contraction of marriages by persons in any way
-connected with his little court. The Konrektor intended to profit by
-this interview as a means of influencing the Duke in favour of a young
-runner who had been imprisoned for the crime of making love.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[7]</a> Reuter and his companions were at this time political prisoners at
-the fort of Dömitz, in Mecklenburg, his sentence of death having been
-converted into one of thirty years’ imprisonment.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">[8]</a> In a previous number of the <i>Salon</i> Lindau had published a keenly
-satirical article on Professor Minckwitz’s writings, culminating in a
-parody on his style, entitled, “The Death of a Youthful Hero,” and
-purporting to be an extract from the professor’s epic poem.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">[9]</a> A modern German Literature written by Professor Minckwitz.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">[10]</a> Vulgar for Nichto, nothing.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">[11]</a> <i>Carcer</i>, a place of imprisonment common to German gymnasiums
-and universities.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">[12]</a> A small town near Berlin.</p>
-
-</div>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<div class="figcenter illowp49" id="i_back" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
-  <img class="w100" src="images/i_back.jpg" alt="back">
-</div>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="transnote">
-<h3><a id="Corrections"></a>Corrections</h3>
-
-<p>p. <a href="#Page_40">40</a></p>
-
-<ul><li>FRAU MONGENROTH.</li>
-<li>FRAU <span class="u">MORGENROTH</span>.</li>
-</ul>
-<p>p. <a href="#Page_165">165</a></p>
-
-<ul><li>toward Neu-Bradenburg,</li>
-
-<li>toward <span class="u">Neu-Brandenburg</span>,</li></ul>
-
-<p>p. <a href="#Page_168">168</a></p>
-
-<ul><li>“<i>Oh, thou monster!</i>” said Langwickel</li>
-
-<li>“<i>Oh, thou monster!</i>” said <span class="u">Langnickel</span></li></ul>
-
-<p>p. <a href="#Page_246">246</a></p>
-
-<ul><li>Barbara walked slowly away to make up the beds in the
-<i>refenetle</i>.</li>
-
-<li>Barbara walked slowly away to make up the beds in the
-<i><span class="u">rafenetle</span></i>.</li></ul>
-
-<p>p. <a href="#Page_318">318</a></p>
-
-<ul><li>It is unnecessay to say anything</li>
-<li>It is <span class="u">unnecessary</span> to say anything</li>
-</ul>
-<p>p. <a href="#Page_373">373</a></p>
-
-<ul><li>could scarcely he regarded</li>
-
-<li>could scarcely <span class="u">be</span> regarded</li></ul>
-</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY ***</div>
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author	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-01-25 04:04:19 -0800
committer	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-01-25 04:04:19 -0800
commit	dd152db7f20ef3c1e9fe4623ea28278655425b2e (patch)
tree	9533406068329742878c04f29540a727e6402ff2
parent	8285450879803aebb3e09f7ce5e0fd580f5749ed (diff)