Seldwyla Folks: Three Singular TalesKeller, Gottfried
General
Seldwyla Folks: Three Singular Tales
Keller, Gottfried
Switzerland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
was always thus that he would not use even the slightest trouble if he
was not specially bidden to do so.
On the other hand, if his resolution ripened into the actual taking of
a walk, he spent first one or two hours painfully adorning himself,
next he took his dapper little cane and stalked stiffly towards the
gate of the town, and there he would stand around humbly and tediously
and would carry on stupid gossip with others of the same ilk, some of
those who did not know any more than himself how to kill time
pleasantly, perhaps ancient and decrepit Seldwylians who had neither
money nor gumption to find their way into the gay tavern. With such
godforsaken old fossils he was in the habit of placing himself in front
of a house in process of construction, or near a field in seed, before
an apple tree injured in the last storm, or perhaps next to a new yarn
factory, and then he would discuss with an infinitude of detail these
things, the need of them, their cost, about the hopes entertained as to
the next crop, and about the actual condition of the fields, of all of
which he would know no more than the man in the moon. In fact, he did
not care whether he did or not; the main thing with him was that time
thus slipped away in what to him appeared the cheapest and the
pleasantest manner. And thus it came about that these, the old and
decrepit Seldwylians, only spoke of him as the "well-mannered and
sensible Saxon," for they themselves understood not a whit more than he
himself. When the people of Seldwyla founded a large brewery on shares,
hoping therefrom for huge business in their town, and when the
extensive foundation walls emerged from the ground, Jobst used to make
it his task of boring into the soil thereabouts with his cane, talking
like an expert and showing the keenest interest in the progress of the
work, for all the world as if he were the most assiduous toper himself
and as if the success or non-success of the enterprise were a matter of
life and death with him. "No indeed," he would then exclaim in his
lisping voice, "this is a shplendid undertakking. Only, the devil of it
is it costs so mooch monnee! So mooch monnee! It's a pity! And here,
this here vault ought really to be a leetle, yoost a leetle bit deeper,
and this wall a leetle bit thicker." And the other idiots sided with
him and said he knew all about it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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