Bergelchen, more familiar with rural burghs than capital cities, felt a
good deal amazed and alarmed at the coffee-trays, dressing-tables,
paper-hangings, sconces, alabaster inkholders, with Egyptian emblems,
as well as at the gilt bell-handle, lying ready for any one to pull out
or to push in. Accordingly, she had not courage to walk through
the hall, with its lustres, purely because a whistling, whiffling
Cap-and-feather was gesturing up and down in it. Nay, her poor heart
was like to fail when she peeped out of the window at so many gay,
promenading town's people (I was briskly that in a little while, at my
side, she must break into whistling a Gascon air down over them); and
thought the middle of this dazzling courtly throng. In a case like
this, reasons are of less avail than examples. I tried to elevate
my Bergelchen, by reciting some of my nocturnal dream-feats; for
example, how, riding on a whale's back, with a three-pronged fork, I
had pierced and eaten three eagles; and by more of the like sort; but I
produced no effect; perhaps, because to the timid female heart the
battle-field was presented rather than the conqueror, the abyss rather
than the overleaper of it.
------------------------
76. Your economical, preaching Poetry apparently supposes that a
surgical Stone-cutter is an Artistical one; and a Pulpit or a Sinai a
Hill of the Muses.
------------------------
At this time a sheaf of newspapers was brought me, full of gallant,
decisive victories. And though these happen only on one side, and on
the other are just so many defeats, yet the former somehow assimilate
more with my blood than the latter, and inspire me (as Schiller's
_Robbers_ used to do) with a strange inclination to lay hold of some
one, and thrash and curry him on the spot. Unluckily for the waiter,
he had chanced even now, like a military host, to stand a triple
bell-order for march, before he would leave his ground and come up.
"Sir," began I, my head full of battle-fields, and my arm of
inclination to baste him; and Berga feared the very worst, as I gave
her the well-known anger and alarm signal, namely, shoved up my cap to
my hindhead,--"Sir, is this your way of treating guests? Why don't you
come promptly? Don't come so again; and now be going, friend!" Although
his retreat was my victory, I still kept briskly cannonading on the
field of action, and fired the louder (to let him hear it), the more
steps he descended in his flight. Bergelchen,--who felt quite
horror-struck at my fury, particularly in a quite strange house, and
at a quality waiter with silk apron, mustered all her soft words
against the wild ones of a man-of-war, and spoke of dangers that might
follow. "Dangers," answered I, "are just what I seek; but for a man
there are none; in all cases he will either conquer or evade them,
either show them front or back."
------------------------
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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