The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries: Masterpieces of German Literature Vol. 19
General
The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries: Masterpieces of German Literature Vol. 19
German literature -- 19th century -- Translations into English; German literature -- 20th century -- Translations into English
In this characteristic and practical system he had hoped to be
understood and supported by Heller, and now found himself disappointed.
The sailmaker, in accordance with his inner character, followed an
entirely opposite method. He worked himself up by a convulsive decision
into a foaming fury, rushed at his work as though he did not care for
life, and raged at it until the sweat flowed and the splinters flew.
But this only lasted a few minutes; then he was exhausted--but he had
appeased his conscience, and rested in motionless collapse until after
a certain time the fury came upon him once more, and again he raged and
steamed at his task. The results of this fashion of working did not
notably surpass those of the manufacturer's.
Under these circumstances each was bound to be an offence and a
hindrance to the other. The hasty and violent method of Heller,
beginning at the wrong end, revolted the deepest feelings of the
manufacturer, while his steady sluggish appearance of doing something
was just as abhorrent to the sailmaker. When the latter fell into one
of his furious attacks on the job, Hürlin stepped back a few paces as
if alarmed and looked on scornfully as his comrade puffed and panted,
retaining, however, just enough breath to reproach Hürlin for his
laziness.
"Look at him," he would cry, "look at him, the good-for-nothing loafer!
You like that, don't you? to see other people doing your work! Oh yes,
the gentleman is a manufacturer. I believe you've been quite capable of
sawing away four weeks on the same log!"
Neither the offensiveness nor the truth of these reproaches stirred
Hürlin up very much; but he did not let Heller get the better of him.
As soon as the sailmaker, wearied out, stopped to rest, he gave him
back his accusations, finding a choice variety of ingenious terms of
abuse to describe him, and threatening to hammer on his thick head
until he should be in condition to mistake the world for a dish of
mashed potatoes and the twelve apostles for a band of robbers. It never
came, of course, to the execution of these threats; they were merely
rhetorical exercises, and neither of the adversaries regarded them in
any other light. Now and then they brought charges against each other
before the manager; but Sauberle was wise enough to decline to
interfere. "You fellows," he said crossly, "are not school-children any
longer. I'm not going to mix myself up with such squabbles--and there's
an end of it!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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