A	»	B	»	C	»	D	»	E
F	»	G	»	H	»	I	»	J
K	»	L	»	M	»	N	»	O
P	»		R	»	S	»		T
U	»		V	»	W	»		Z

Guy de Maupassant - "Contes de la Becasse"

C.H. Becker - "Christianity and Islam"

Various - "The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction"

Various - "The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Vol. 10,"

Nicholas Brealey Buys Davies-Black
Moreover Technologies - Premier purveyor of real-time news and RSS feeds from across the Web

Gray Gets New Ingram Role; Lovett Heading Ingram Digital
Ad - Get Info for Book Publishing from 14 search engines in 1.

PW Morning Report, January 6, 2009">The PW Morning Report, January 6, 2009
We have been looking for ways to fuel additional growth, said Chuck Dresner, v-p, associate publisher of NB North America, which has offices in Boston, Mass. Davies-Black has built up an excellent publishing program and a recognized brand in some of the

The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. VIII by Various

V >> Various >> The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. VIII




As soon as they had left the house, Mrs. Nuessler signed to Braesig to
follow her into the garden, and when they were seated in the arbor, she
said: "I can't stand Joseph's eternal chatter any longer, Braesig. It was
Rudolph who taught him to speak so much by continually encouraging him
to talk last winter, and he has got into the habit now and won't give it
up. But, tell me honestly--remember you promised to watch--have you seen
anything of the kind going on?" "Bless me! No. Not the faintest approach
to anything of the sort." "I can't think it either," said Mrs. Nuessler
thoughtfully. "At first Lina and Godfrey, and Mina and Rudolph used to
go about together. Afterward Mina took to Godfrey, and Lina to Rudolph,
but ever since the examination Lina and Godfrey have been on their old
terms with each other once more, while Mina and Rudolph have never made
friends again; indeed I may say that she has never so much as looked at
him since the day he preached in Rahnstaedt." "Ah, Mrs. Nuessler," said
Braesig, "love shows itself in most unexpected ways. Sometimes the giving
of a bunch of flowers is a sign of it, or even a mere 'good-morning'
accompanied by a shake of the hand. Sometimes it is shown by two people
stooping at the same moment to pick up a ball of cotton that one of them
has dropped, when all that the looker-on sees is that they knocked their
heads together in trying which could pick it up first. But gradually the
signs become more apparent. The girl blushes now and then, and the man
watches whatever she does; or the girl takes the man into the larder,
and gives him sausages, or cold tongue, or pig's cheek, and the man
begins to wear a blue or a red necktie; but the surest sign of all is
when they go out on a summer-evening for a walk in the moonlight, and
you hear them sigh without any cause. Now, has anything of that kind
been going on with the little round-heads?" "No, I can't say that I've
noticed them doing that, Braesig. They used to go to the cold meat-larder
sometimes it's true, but I soon put an end to that; I wasn't going to
stand that sort of thing; and as for blushing, I didn't notice them
doing that either, though of course I've seen that their eyes are often
red with crying." "Well," said Braesig, "there must have been a reason
for that--I'll tell you what, Mrs. Nuessler, you just leave the whole
management of the affair in my hands, for I know how to arrange such
matters. I soon put an end to that sort of nonsense in Fred Triddelfitz.
I'm an old hunter, and I'll ferret the matter out for you, but you must
tell me where they generally meet." "Here, Braesig, here in this arbor.
My girls sit here in the afternoon with their work, and then the other
two join them. I never thought any harm of it." "All right!" said
Braesig, going out of the arbor, and looking about him. He examined a
large cherry-tree carefully which was growing close by, and seeing that
it was thickly covered with leaves he looked quite satisfied. "That'll
do," he said, "what can be done, shall be done." "Goodness, gracious
me!" said Mrs. Nuessler, "I wonder what will happen this afternoon! It's
very disagreeable. Kurz is coming at coffee-time, and he is desperately
angry with his son for playing such a trick on his cousin. You'll see
that there will be a terrible scene." "That's always the way with these
little people," said Braesig, "when the head and the lower part of the
constitution are too near each other, the nature is always fiery." "Ah!"
sighed Mrs. Nuessler as she entered the parlor, "it'll be a miserable
afternoon."

She little knew that misery had long ago taken up its abode in her
house.

Whilst these arrangements were being made down-stairs the twins were
busy sewing in their garret-room. Lina was seated at one window, and
Mina at the other; they never looked up from their work, and never spoke
to each other as in the old days at Mrs. Behrens' sewing-class. They
worked away as busily as if the world had been torn in two, and they had
to sew up the rent with their needles and thread, while their serious
faces and deep sighs showed that they were fully aware of the gravity of
their employment. It was strange that their mother had not told Braesig
how sadly pale they had grown. The change must have been very gradual
for her not to have noticed it. But so it was. The two apple-cheeked
maidens looked as if they had been growing on the north-side of the tree
of life, where no sunbeams could ever come to brighten their existence,
and tinge their cheeks with healthful color. They could no longer be
likened to two apples growing on one stalk. At last Lina's work fell on
her lap, she could go on sewing no more, her eyes were so full of tears,
and then large drops began to roll slowly down her pale cheeks; Mina
took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes, for her tears were falling
upon her work, and so the two little sisters sat weeping each in her own
window, as if all her happiness were gone past recall.

Suddenly Mina jumped up, and ran out of the room as if she must go out
into the fresh air, but she stopped short on the landing, for she
remembered that her mother might see her and ask her what was the
matter, so she remained outside the door crying silently. And then Lina
started up to go and comfort Mina; but she suddenly remembered that she
did not know what to say to her, so she remained standing within the
room beside the door, crying also. It often happens that a thin wall of
separation rises between two loving hearts, and while each would give
anything to get back to the other, neither will be the first to turn the
handle--for in every such partition wall there is a door with a handle
on each side of it--and so they remain apart in spite of their longing
to be reconciled.

But fortunately the twins were not so selfishly proud as to allow this
state of matters to go on for ever. Mina opened the door, and said: "Why
are you crying, Lina?" and Lina immediately stretched out both hands to
her sister, and said: "Oh, Mina, why are you crying?" Then they fell
upon each other's necks and cried again, and the color returned to their
cheeks as if a sunbeam had kissed them, and they clung to each other as
if they were once more growing on the same stalk. "Mina, I will let you
have him. You must be happy," said Lina. "No, Lina," said Mina, "he
likes you most, and you are much better than I am." "No, Mina. I've
quite made up my mind. Uncle Kurz is coming this afternoon, and I'll ask
father and mother to let me go home with him, for I couldn't remain here
and see it all just yet." "Do so, Lina, for then you'll be with his
parents, and when you both come back, I'll ask Godfrey to get his father
to look out for a situation for me as governess in some town far, far
from home, for I couldn't stay here either." "Mina!" cried Lina, holding
her sister from her at arm's length, and looking at her in amazement,
"with _his_ parents? With whose parents?" "Why--Rudolph's." "You meant
Rudolph?" "Yes, why who did you mean?" "I? Oh, I meant Godfrey." "No,
did you really?" exclaimed Mina, throwing her arms round Lina's neck,
"but is it possible? How is it possible? We don't mean the same after
all then!" "Ah!" said Lina who was the most sensible of the two, "what a
great deal of unnecessary pain we have given each other!" "Oh, how happy
I am," cried Mina, who was the least sensible, as she danced about the
room. "All will be well now." "Yes, Mina," said Lina the sensible,
joining in the dance. "Everything will go on happily now." Then silly
little Mina threw herself into her sister's arms again--she was so
happy.

If people would only turn the handle of the door that divides them from
their friends while there is yet time, all would go well with them, even
though it might not bring such intense joy as it did to the two girls in
the little garret-room.

The sisters cried one moment and laughed the next; then they danced
round the room, and after that they sat on each other's knees, and told
how it all happened, and sorrowed over their own stupidity, which had
prevented them seeing the true state of the case. They wondered how it
was that they had not had an explanation sooner, and then they confessed
to each other exactly how matters stood between them and their cousins,
and ended by being more than half angry with the two young men, whom
they accused of being the real cause of the misunderstanding. Lina said
that she had been in great doubt before, but that ever since last Sunday
she had been quite certain that Mina cared for Godfrey because of her
constant tears; and Mina said that she had been miserable because of the
wicked trick Rudolph had played in church about the sermon, and that she
had been puzzled to account for Lina's tears. Lina then explained that
she had been so very sorry for poor Godfrey's disappointment. All was
made up now between the sisters, and when the dinner-bell rang they ran
down-stairs together arm in arm, looking as sweet and fresh as two
roses. Braesig, who had seated himself with his back to the light that he
might see them better, was very much astonished when he caught sight of
their happy faces. "What," he said to himself, "these two girls changed
and shy, and suffering from some secret grief? In love? Not a bit of it!
They're as merry as crickets."

The sound of the dinner-bell brought Godfrey Baldrian, or the Methodist,
as Braesig called him. Lina blushed and turned away from him, not in
anger, but because she remembered the confession she had just made in
the garret. And Braesig said to himself: "That's very odd now! Lina seems
to have taken the infection, but how can she care for a scare-crow of a
Methodist?" Braesig expressed himself too strongly, but still it must be
acknowledged that Godfrey was no beauty. Nature had not given him many
personal advantages, and he did not use those that he had in the wisest
possible way. For example his hair. He had a thick head of yellow hair
that would have provoked no criticism, and indeed would have looked
quite nice if it had only been cut properly, but unfortunately he had
taken the pictures of the beloved disciple John as his model, and had
parted his hair down the middle, and brushed it into ringlets at the
ends, though the upper part of his head showed that the real nature of
his hair was to be straight. I have nothing to say against little boys
of ten or even twelve going about with curls, and the mothers of these
same little boys would have still less objection to it than I should,
for they delight in stroking the curls lovingly out of their children's
faces, and in combing them out smooth when visitors come to the house.
Some mothers have even gone so far, when their children's hair did not
curl naturally, as to screw it up in paper or use tongs, but that was a
mistake on their part. If it were the fashion, I should have nothing to
say against even old people wearing curls, for it looks very nice in
some ancient pictures, but there are two remarks I should like to make
while on this subject, and these are: a man with thin legs ought never
to wear tight trousers, and he whose hair does not curl naturally should
cut it short. Our poor Godfrey's hair, which hung down his back, was
burnt to a sort of dun color by the sun, and as he liked it to look
smooth and tidy, he put a good deal of pomade on it, which greased
his coat-collar considerably.

[Illustration: THE BRIDAL PAIR AT THE CIVIL MARRIAGE OFFICE _From the
Painting by Benjamin Vautier_]

Beneath this wealth of hair was a small pale face with an expression of
suffering on it, which always made Braesig ask sympathizingly what
shoemaker he employed, and whether he was troubled with corns. The rest
of his figure was in keeping with his face. He was tall, narrow-chested,
and angular, and that part of the human body which shows whether a man
enjoys the good things of life, was altogether wanting in him. Indeed he
was so hollowed out where the useful and necessary digesting apparatus
is wont to show its existence by a gentle roundness of form, that he
might be said to be shaped like the inside of Mrs. Nuessler's
baking-trough. For this reason Braesig regarded him as a sort of wonder
in natural history, for he ate as much as a ploughman without producing
any visible effect. Let no one imagine that the Methodist did not do his
full duty in the way of eating and drinking; I have known divinity
students, and know some now, with whom I should have no chance in that
respect. But the fact is that young men whose minds are employed in
theological studies are generally somewhat thin, as will be seen in any
of the numerous divinity students to be met with in Mecklenburg; when
they have been settled in a good living for a few years, they begin to
fill out like ordinary mortals. Braesig remembered this, and did not
despair of seeing Godfrey a portly parson one of these days, though how
it was to come about was rather a puzzle to him. Such was Godfrey
Baldrian in appearance; but his portrait would not be complete if I did
not add that he had the faintest possible tinge of Phariseeism in his
expression. It was only a tinge, but with Phariseeism as with rennet, a
very small quantity is enough to curdle a large pan of milk.

They sat down to dinner, and Joseph asked: "Where is Rudolph?" "Goodness
gracious me, Joseph, what are you talking about!" said Mrs. Nuessler
crossly. "I'm sure you might know by this time that Rudolph is always
late. I dare say he's out fishing; but whatever he's about I can assure
him that if he doesn't come in time for dinner, he may just go without."
The meal was a very silent one, for Braesig was too much occupied
watching what was going on to be able to talk, and Mrs. Nuessler had
enough to do wondering over the cause of the remarkable change in her
daughters' appearance. The twins sat side by side, and looked as happy
as if they had just awakened from a disagreeable dream, and were
rejoicing that it was only a dream, and that the warm sunbeams were once
more shining upon them.

When dinner was over, Mina whose turn it was to help her mother to clear
away the dishes, tidy the room, and prepare the coffee, asked her
sister: "Where are you going, Lina?" "I'll get my sewing and go to the
arbor," answered Lina. "Very well," said Mina, "I'll join you there as
soon as I'm ready." "And I'll go too," said Godfrey, "for I've got a
book I want to finish." "That's right," said Braesig; "it'll be a deuced
good entertainment for Lina." Godfrey felt inclined to take the old man
to task for using such a word as "deuced," but on second thoughts
refrained from doing so, for he knew that it was hopeless to try to
bring Braesig round to his opinion, so he followed the girls from the
room. "Bless me!" cried Mrs. Nuessler.

"What can have happened to my girls? They were as quiet as mice and
never said a word to each other till this afternoon, and now they are
once more one heart and one soul." "Hush, Mrs. Nuessler," said Braesig,
"I'll find out all about it for you today. Joseph, come with me; but
mind you're not to talk." Joseph followed him to the garden, and when
they got there Braesig took his arm: "Now hold your tongue, Joseph," he
said, "don't look round, you must appear to be taking a walk after
dinner." Joseph did as he was told with much success. When they reached
the cherry-tree beside the arbor, Braesig stood still and said: "Now
then, Joseph, give me a back--but put your head close to the stem of the
tree." Joseph was about to speak, but Braesig pressed down his head,
saying: "Hold your tongue, Joseph--put your head nearer the tree." He
then stepped on his back, and when standing there firmly, said: "Now
straighten yourself--It does exactly!" Then seizing the lower branch
with both hands, Braesig pulled himself up into the tree. Joseph had
never spoken all this time but now he ventured to remark: "But, Braesig,
they're not nearly ripe yet." "What a duffer you are, Joseph," said
Braesig, thrusting his red face through the green leaves which surrounded
him. "Do you really think that I expect to eat Rhenish cherries at
midsummer. But go away now as quickly as you can and don't stand there
looking like a dog when a cat has taken refuge in a tree." "Ah well,
what shall I do?" said Joseph, going away and leaving Braesig to his
fate.

Braesig had not been long in his hiding-place, when he heard a light step
on the gravel walk, and, peering down, saw Lina going into the arbor
with such a large bundle of work in her arms that if she had finished it
in one day it would have been difficult to keep her in sewing. She laid
her work on the table and, resting her head on her hand, sat gazing
thoughtfully at the blue sky beyond Braesig's cherry-tree. "Ah, how happy
I am," she said to herself in the fulness of her grateful heart. "How
happy I am. Mina is so kind to me; and so is Godfrey, or why did he
press my foot under the table at dinner. What made Braesig stare at us so
sharply, I wonder? I think I must have blushed. What a good man Godfrey
is. How seriously and learnedly he can talk. How decided he is, and I
think he has the marks of his spiritual calling written in his face. He
isn't the least bit handsome it is true; Rudolph is much better looking,
but then Godfrey has an air with him that seems to say, 'don't disturb
me by telling me of any of your foolish worldly little vanities, for I
have high thoughts and aspirations, I am going to be a clergyman.' I'll
cut his hair short though as soon as I have the power." It is a great
blessing that every girl does not set her heart on having a handsome
husband, for otherwise we ugly men would all have to remain bachelors;
and pleasant looking objects we should be in that case, as I know of
nothing uglier than an ugly old bachelor. Lina's last thought, that of
cutting Godfrey's hair, had shown so much certainty of what was going to
happen, that she blushed deeply, and as at the same moment she heard a
slow dignified step approaching, she snatched up her work and began to
sew busily.

Godfrey seated himself at a little distance from his cousin, opened his
book and began to read, but every now and then he peeped over the edge
of it, either because he had read it before, or because he was thinking
of something else. That is always the way with Methodistical divinity
students even when they firmly believe what they teach. _Before_ the
examination they think of nothing but their spiritual calling, but
_after_ the examination is well over human nature regains its sway, and
they look out for a fitting wife, before they begin to think of a
parsonage. Godfrey was like all the rest of his kind, and as no other
girls except Mina and Lina had come in his way, and as Lina attended to
his admonitions far more docilely than her sister, he determined to make
her his helpmate. He was ignorant as to how such matters ought to be
conducted, and felt a little shy and awkward. He had got no further in
his wooing than pressing his lady-love's foot under the table, and
whenever he had done so he was always much more confused than Lina,
whose foot had received the pressure.

However he had determined that the whole matter should be settled that
day, so he began: "I brought this book out entirely for your sake, Lina.
Will you listen to a bit of it just now?" "Yes," said Lina. "What a slow
affair it's going to be," thought Braesig, who could hardly be said to be
lying on a bed of roses, his position in the cherry-tree was so cramped
and uncomfortable. Godfrey proceeded to read a sermon on Christian
marriage, describing how it should be entered into, and what was the
proper way of looking upon it. When he had finished he drew a little
nearer his cousin and asked: "What do you think of it, Lina?" "It's
very nice," said Lina. "Do you mean marriage?" asked Godfrey. "O-oh,
Godfrey," said Lina, her head drooping lower over her work. "No, Lina,"
Godfrey went on drawing a little closer to her, "it isn't at all nice. I
am thankful to see that you don't regard the gravest step possible in
human life with unbecoming levity. Marriage is a very hard thing, that
is to say, in the Christian sense of the word." He then described the
duties, cares and troubles of married life as if he wished to prepare
Lina for taking up her abode in some penal settlement, and Braesig, as he
listened, congratulated himself on having escaped such a terrible fate.
"Yes," Godfrey continued, "marriage is part of the curse that was laid
on our first parents when they were thrust out of paradise." So saying
he opened his Bible and read the third chapter of Genesis aloud. Poor
Lina did not know what to do, or where to look, and Braesig muttered:
"The infamous Jesuit, to read all that to the child." He nearly jumped
down from the tree in his rage, and as for Lina, she would have run away
if it had not been the Bible her cousin was reading to her, so she hid
her face in her hands and wept bitterly. Godfrey was now quite carried
away by zeal for his holy calling; he put his arm round her waist, and
said: "I could not spare you this at a time when I purpose making a
solemn appeal to you. Caroline Nuessler, will you, knowing the gravity of
the step you take, enter the holy estate of matrimony with me, and
become my Christian helpmeet?" Lina was so frightened and distressed at
his whole conduct that she could neither speak nor think; she could only
cry.

At the same moment a merry song was heard at a little distance:

"One bright afternoon I stood to look
Into the depths of a silver brook,
And there I saw little fishes swim,
One of them was gray, I look'd at him.

He was swimming, swimming and swimming
And with delight seemed overbrimming;
I never saw such a thing in my life
As the little gray fish seeking a wife."

Lina struggled hard to regain her composure, and then, in spite of the
Bible and the Christian requirements demanded of her, she started up and
rushed out of the arbor. On her way to the house she passed Mina who was
coming out to join her with her sewing. Godfrey followed Lina with long
slow steps, and looked as much put out as the clergyman who was
interrupted in a very long sermon by the beadle placing the church key
on the reading desk and saying that he might lock up the church himself
when he had done, for he, the beadle, must go home to dinner. Indeed he
was in much the same position as that clergyman. Like him he had wished
to preach a very fine sermon, and now he was left alone in his empty
church.

Mina was an inexperienced little thing, for she was the youngest of the
family, but still she was quick-witted enough to guess something of what
had taken place. She asked herself whether she would cry if the same
thing were to happen to her, and what it would be advisable for her to
do under the circumstances. She seated herself quietly in the arbor, and
began to unroll her work, sighing a little as she did so at the thought
of the uncertainty of her own fate, and the impossibility of doing
anything but wait patiently. "Bless me!" said Braesig to himself as he
lay hidden in the tree. "This little round-head has come now, and I've
lost all feeling in my body. It's a horribly slow affair!" But the
situation was soon to become more interesting, for shortly after Mina
had taken her seat a handsome young man came round the corner of the
arbor with a fishing rod over his shoulder and a fish basket on his
back. "I'm so glad to find you here, Mina," he exclaimed, "of course
you've all finished dinner." "You need hardly ask, Rudolph. It has just
struck two." "Ah well," he said, "I suppose that my aunt is very angry
with me again."

"You may be certain of that, and she was displeased with you already,
you know, even without your being late for dinner. I'm afraid, however,
that your own stomach will punish you more severely than my mother's
anger could do, you've neglected it so much today." "All the better for
you tonight. I really couldn't come sooner, the fish were biting so
splendidly. I went to the black pool today, though Braesig always advised
me not to go there, and now I know why. It's his larder. When he can't
catch anything else--where he's sure of a bite in the black pool. It's
cram full of tench. Just look, did you ever see such beauties?" and he
opened the lid of his basket as he spoke, and showed his spoil, adding:
"I've done old Braesig this time at any rate!" "The young rascal!"
groaned Braesig as he poked his nose through the cherry-leaves, making it
appear like a huge pickled capsicum such as Mrs. Nuessler was in the
habit of preserving in cherry-leaves for winter use. "The young rascal
to go and catch my tench! Bless me! what monsters the rogue has caught!"
"Give them to me, Rudolph," said Mina. "I will take them into the house,
and will bring you something to eat out here." "Oh no, never mind" "But
you musn't starve," she said. "Very well then--anything will do. A bit
of bread and butter will be quite enough, Mina." The girl went away, and
Rudolph seated himself in the arbor. "The devil take it!" muttered
Braesig, stretching his legs softly, and twisting and turning in the vain
endeavor to find a part of his body which was not aching from his
cramped position. "The wretch is sitting there now! I never saw such
goings on!"