Fräulein Schmidt and Mr. AnstrutherVon Arnim, Elizabeth
General
Fräulein Schmidt and Mr. Anstruther
Von Arnim, Elizabeth
British -- Germany -- Fiction; Epistolary fiction; Germany -- Fiction; Love stories; Young women -- Fiction
Papa, consoling me,--bits of plum that have acquired the power to walk
about. But according to that beef must be vegetarian too,--so much grass
grown able to walk about. It is very bewildering. One day the
neighbor--he is a nice neighbor, interested in our experiment--sent us
some raspberries, a basket of them, all glowing, and downy, and
delicious with dew, and covered with a beautiful silvery cabbage leaf;
but they were afflicted in just the same way, only more so. Papa says,
why do I look? I must look now that I have seen the things once; and so
the end of the raspberries was that most of them went out into the
kitchen, and Johanna, who has no prejudices, stewed them into compote
and ate them, including the inhabitants, for her supper.
For dinner, by which time I am curiously shaky, quite indifferent to
food, and possessed of an immense longing to lie down on a sofa and do
nothing, we have salad and potatoes and fruit--of course plums--and
lentils because they are so good for us (it is a pity they are also so
nasty), and cheese because one book says (it is an extraordinarily
convincing book) that if a man shall eat beef steadily for a whole
morning from six to twelve without stopping, he will not at the end have
taken in half the nourishing matter that he would have absorbed after
two minutes laid out judiciously on cheese. Unfortunately I don't like
cheese. After dinner I shut myself up with the works of Mr. Eustace
Miles, which tell me in invigorating language of all the money, time,
and energy I have saved, of my increase of bodily health, of how active
I am getting, how skilful and of what a tough endurance, how my brains
have grown clear and nimble, my morals risen high above the average, and
how keen my enjoyment of everything has become, including, strange to
say, my food. I read lying down, too spiritless to sit up; and Johanna
in the kitchen, who has dined on pig and beer, washes up with the
clatter of exuberant energy, singing while she does so in a voice that
shakes the house that once she _liebte ein Student._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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