Withered Leaves: A Novel. Vol. 3 (of 3)Gottschall, Rudolf von
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Withered Leaves: A Novel. Vol. 3 (of 3)
Gottschall, Rudolf von
German fiction -- Translations into English
the classes, distinguished a few favourites according to his old bad
custom. She was implacable towards these successors of Iduna. She took
possession of their copy-books after her husband had already corrected
them, and let her red pen run riot through their pages until they
resembled a corn field overgrown with poppies. Then their domestic
peace was seriously imperilled, and the first-class listening at the
door, had the satisfaction of witnessing noisy scenes between the
conductors of the establishment. How differently Fräulein Sohle had
maintained discipline! Yes, even some lovely eyes peeping through the
keyhole pretended to have seen how Dr. Sperner's moustache, the terror
and glory of the school, played a suffering part in these disputes. At
last, however, the Doctor gained his point, Lori was merely, by
courtesy, the principal of the school.
Although this couple's last kindly relation to Giulia had consisted in
the homage which they paid to her talent in the theatre by hissing and
whistling, it did not, in the least, prevent them paying a friendly
visit to Herr and Frau von Blanden. Times change, and besides, in those
days, they were a portion of the public, the most irresponsible
creature that the world contains, because the individual disappears
within it like a wave in the ocean, which none can make permanently
stationary?
Lori was most agreeable; she could not sufficiently regret that Frau
von Blanden had said farewell to the stage. Since her retirement there
had been a total lack of all real interest, and nothing was heard but
commonplace ballad-singing for salaries and wages, without any of the
divine spark.
Sperner, too, kissed the lady's hand with the very lips which had
given the signal whistle in the pit, and looked up at her with such
true-hearted eyes that she could not but believe in his genuineness. He
was one of those honest men whose frank manner, whose warm impulsive
speeches inspire confidence at once, one of those men, with open hearts
and open shirt collars, whose genuineness, as Kuhl said, is nothing but
studied hypocrisy, while behind the mask of their honesty lurks the
vilest deception.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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