An Old Story of My Farming Days Vol. 2 (of 3).: (Ut Mine Stromtid) — John Shaqi
An Old Story of My Farming Days Vol. 2 (of 3).: (Ut Mine Stromtid)Reuter, Fritz
General
An Old Story of My Farming Days Vol. 2 (of 3).: (Ut Mine Stromtid)
Reuter, Fritz
Farm life -- Fiction
by a horse passing the carriage at full gallop. It was Fred Triddelfitz
who appeared in all the brilliance of a rainbow, and disappeared with
the velocity of a falling star.
"What was that?" cried Frida, and Alick shouted: "Heigh! Heigh!" But
Fred took no notice, for he had to bring the news to the people at the
triumphal arch, and had only time as he galloped past Gürlitz manor to
call out to Pomuchelskopp whom he saw standing at the gate, that they
were coming, and would be at the village in five minutes.--"Come, Mally
and Sally, it's high time for you to come!" shouted Pomuchelskopp over
the garden-hedge, and Mally and Sally threw the bit of worsted work
they were doing; down amongst the nettles beside the arbour, put on
their Leghorn hats, and took their stand one on each side of their
father. Then father Pomuchelskopp said to them: "Don't look round,
girls, whatever you do, for we must seem as if we had come out for no
other reason than to have a walk this beautiful morning."
But he was doomed to meet with disappointment.--The Pümpelhagen
carriage was driving slowly through the village, when Mrs. von Rambow
suddenly asked her husband: "Who is that lovely girl who bowed to us
just now?" He answered that it was Louisa Hawermann, his bailiff's only
daughter, and that the house beside which she was standing was the
parsonage. Meanwhile Muchel and his two daughters were going out at
their gate as if for a walk, when as ill-luck would have it, our old
friend Henny was driven by the demon of housekeeping to go out and feed
the chickens. She had on a white cotton cap trimmed with frills round
the face, and the inevitable black merino gown which she still
considered good enough for morning wear. When she saw Pomuchelskopp and
the two girls passing out at the gate, she was very angry with her
husband for going without her, and so she rubbed the chickens food off
her hands on the old black skirt, and followed them. Her stiff
unbending figure clothed in white and black looked exactly like a
tombstone going out for a walk.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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