In the Year '13: A Tale of Mecklenburg LifeReuter, Fritz
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In the Year '13: A Tale of Mecklenburg Life
Reuter, Fritz
Mecklenburg (Germany : Region) -- Fiction
"Not a step, Frau Amtshauptmann, till I have made a clean breast of
it.--Look here, you must know I am in hiding; Rathsherr Herse and this
imp, Fritz Sahlmann, helped me to hide. And while I was sitting here in
sorrow and anguish thinking about Herr Droi and his fate and all the
rest, and expecting this urchin would bring me word how things were
going, I heard a cough outside and then my name was called, and when I
stole to the window to see who it was I thought I was going to have a
fit; for, just think, Frau Amtshauptmann, there was that wicked boy had
climbed up into the old apple-tree and slid along one of the branches
and was hanging like a crow over the abyss.--'Boy,' I said, 'do you
want to tumble out of the tree?' But he only grinned at me. 'Boy,' I
cried, 'I can't bear to see you in such danger.' And, do you know, Frau
Amtshauptmann, the boy actually laughed at me and said, 'I only came to
bring you news that the watchmaker has been hanged, and that the French
have seized the Rathsherr Herse, and he is lying in chains; and a whole
battalion has been sent to find you out!' That was not comforting news,
Frau Amtshauptmann, and I was terribly alarmed; but I assure you I was
more alarmed about the boy. 'Fritz,' I cried again, 'get down out of
the tree.' Then he grinned at me, like an ape at a camel, and said:
'Yes, if you'll give me a sausage!' And then he began playing all sorts
of tricks, and jumping about in the branches like a rabbit in a
cabbage-garden, till everything before my eyes seemed green and yellow.
Then, Frau Amtshauptmann, then I thought--What is a pork sausage? And
what is a human life? And in my terror, I took your property. He pushed
in the pole, and I stuck a sausage on it.--Then he was called in by the
Herr Amtshauptmann, and, as he clambered down, he said just loud enough
for me to hear, that he had been chaffing me, and that it was all
untrue. So I say he's a liar, Frau Amtshauptmann, and that's my last
word."
"Never mind now, Westphalen, my husband has a rod in pickle for him. He
won't escape punishment."
It was with great difficulty that the Frau Amtshauptmann succeeded in
getting the old dame downstairs, and when they reached the hall, the
Herr Amtshauptmann was pacing up and down with his stately tread, quite
ready and waiting for them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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