The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 11

"Come in!"

No one accepted the invitation and it was repeated more loudly, but this time too without success. Bewildered, the scholar rose from his chair, drew his long dressing-gown tight about him, and now with still greater amazement admitted a tiny laddie of about eleven years into his study, a laddie who trembled in every joint and over whose cheeks the tears ran down. No one was present at the interview that this visitor had with Professor Fackler and we cannot give the details of the conversation. Only this we can say, that when Lesbia returned from church with her two daughters, the charming pledges of the "thousands and thousands of kisses," she found her husband in a very pleased mood. He did not give her the attention which she expected from him but continued to straddle up and down the room and to murmur:

"I declare! A plucky little fellow! Puer tenax propositi! He shall have his way! By all the gods of Olympus he shall attain what he desires and may it be of benefit to him!"

"What shall be of benefit? Of benefit to whom, Blasius?" asked Lesbia, laying down her hymn-book.

"Someone shall be taken by the heel and dipped into the Styx, dearest, so that he may be proof against the afflictions of life and emerge victorious from the battle of men."

"This is one of your silly, incomprehensible days, Blasius," cried Mrs. Fackler, with vexation and looked as if she would have liked to give her husband a good shaking. Fortunately, however, at that moment Eugenia and Cornelia came running in and hung on their father's arms with all kinds of childish questions and requests. The latter pointed to their mother and quoted with hollow voice:

"Jove tonante, fulgurante, comitia populi habere nefas,"

drew on his coat, put on his hat, took his stick, went out and – paid a visit to Uncle Grünebaum. Uncle Nikolaus Grünebaum, however, to his own "highest perplexity" made a long, beautiful speech that afternoon in Kröppel Street to the accompaniment of some most excellent coffee which Auntie Schlotterbeck had brewed, and expressed himself more or less in the following expectoration:

"Inasmuch as a cobbler is a noble and honorable calling yet nevertheless all the children of men cannot be cobblers, but there must also be other people, tailors, bakers, carpenters, masons and such like, so that every feeling and sentiment may be provided for and no sense be left without its necessary protection. But also because there are other wants in the world and man needs much before and prior to the time when he needs nothing more, there are also advocates and doctors more than too many and in addition professors and pastors more than enough. But God lets things go on as they will and the devil takes one and all, odd and even, which is to say that a boy who wants to choose his occupation must look far ahead and consider carefully in which direction his bent lies, for it has happened more than once that an ass has thought that he could play the lute. But it isn't everyone who can make a boot either, it isn't as easy as it looks. Now there are present here Christine Unwirrsch, widow of the late Anton Unwirrsch, secondly the unmarried spinster Schlotterbeck, also a very good specimen of sound common sense and natural ability. Moreover, there is present, Master Nik'las Grünebaum, who am not up in the air, either, but without wanting to boast, stand squarely on my feet. Before these three there stands the individual whom the matter concerns, Hans Jakob Nik'las Unwirrsch, who at least has demonstrated himself to be a youth of courage and who has sought to trip up his dearest relatives behind their backs. Such a little bantam!"

Both women raised their hands to beseech the blessing of heaven on the youthful genius, Hans Unwirrsch; but his uncle continued.

"When the professor stood in front of me all of a sudden, I said to myself, 'Steady, Grünebaum, hold on to your chair!' Such a boy! But the professor is an estimable, reasonable, pleasant gentleman and so the long and short of the matter is this, that from half past eleven this morning on, I will have nothing more to do with it and will wash my hands."

"In which you do very well, Master Grünebaum," said Auntie Schlotterbeck.

"And so things may go as they like, the devil takes both odd and even!" concluded Uncle Grünebaum.

"Nik'las!" cried Mrs. Christine, irritated, "I hope that my son will never have to do with the devil either in an odd or even way, and as for letting things go as they like, I hope he won't do that either."

"Come, come, don't be sacrilegious and touchy," growled her brother. "Well then, what I and Professor Fackler wanted to say, as an over-learned individual is still a man after all, you shall have your way, my boy, as far as we are concerned. Enough, I have said it! And I don't suppose the highly laudable profession of cobbling will lose any miracle in you, scamp."

The mother's feelings found relief in a stream of tears, Auntie Schlotterbeck nearly melted away with joyful emotion; Hans Unwirrsch was never able afterwards to give an account of his feelings in that hour, either to himself or to others. But the person who remained entirely unmoved and calm, or seemed to, was Uncle Grünebaum. He complacently pressed the tobacco down in his short pipe with his cobbler's thumb, closed the lid carefully like a man who has done a good work and who at most will allow the credit that rightly belongs to him to be entered in the great ledger of heaven.

But however he might appear, he had lost his power over his nephew and could never regain it. From the moment when Hans Unwirrsch gave the rudder of his life such an effective jerk with his own small hand, he confronted the worthy master with a fully enfranchised will of his own and the latter's amazement and bewilderment were only the more boundless, the greater the equanimity that he displayed.

Destinies had to be fulfilled and Hans Unwirrsch started on the road that Anton Unwirrsch had not been allowed to travel. The following noon Auntie Schlotterbeck met the deceased master; he was bent and hung his head in his usual manner, but he smiled contentedly.

Summary of Chapter VII

[Hans and Moses now worked on from class to class through the "Gymnasium." But the way that led through the vocabulary, declinations and conjugations to the open and sunny clearness of classical antiquity was considerably more difficult for Hans than for Moses, for the former wanted to realize the beauty of the classic age in his imagination, while the latter contented himself with the effort to understand it and to master the languages in which it has come down to us. But in every act of mental work Moses' highest aim was to forge weapons with which to meet the world. He despised or smiled at everyone who did not, like himself, sacrifice all other qualities in order to forge and whet the keen-edged sword of reason, and excepted neither his "half-childish" father nor his good-natured friend. Hans Unwirrsch, on the contrary, did not forget what he owed to his parents' self-denial and heroism, and all the sacrifices that poverty demanded of him became for him precious duties, as is ever the case with noble natures. Professor Fackler remained his paternal friend and also put him in the way of making his first earnings by recommending him as a tutor for the two sons of the director of a government office named Trüffler. At the same time this afforded Hans the opportunity to see something of so-called "higher social life." Although it was only with the deepest humility that he raised his eyes to the goddesses of this other world, the director's daughters, yet there were times when he was in danger of despising Uncle Grünebaum and underestimating Auntie Schlotterbeck. Against his will, however, the sardonic Moses rendered him valuable service in this respect. The latter analyzed Hans' feelings to him and explained that he was tormented by envy. Once having recognized this condition the value of his mother's home became clear to him again and he was irresistibly drawn back into its simple, heart-refreshing atmosphere.]

Chapter VIII

Uncle Grünebaum in holiday raiment was a dignified, substantial, self-assured and firm figure. Whoever took a fleeting glance at him at first was usually so pleasantly surprised that he followed the glance with steady observation lasting some minutes, observation which Uncle Grünebaum either permitted with admirable composure or put an end to by an inimitable: "Well?" according to the person who made it.

In his Sunday raiment Uncle Nik'las Grünebaum stood at the corner opposite the "Gymnasium" and resembled an angel in so far as he wore a long blue coat which, to be sure, as far as the cut was concerned, had little in common with the garments in saints' pictures. The waist of this coat had been placed by the manufacturer as near as possible to the back of the neck and two non plus ultra buttons marked its beginning. The pockets showed themselves plainly in the lower region of the coat-tails and a short pipe with gracefully dangling tassels looked curiously out of one of them. Uncle Grünebaum wore a yellow and brown striped waistcoat and trousers of a greenish blue color, somewhat too short but of agreeable construction, too tight above, too wide below. The watch charms which swung beneath the stomach of the worthy man would really deserve several pages of description, and we will say nothing of his hat, for fear that we should then be carried irresistibly beyond the limits of the space at our disposal.

Wherefore did Uncle Grünebaum, dressed in his Sunday clothes on an ordinary week-day, stand at the corner opposite the "Gymnasium"? Tell us, Oh Muse, the reason of this! You have observed Master Nik'las long enough, eloquent calliope, turn your divine eye toward the school-house and tell us, like a good girl who hasn't it in her heart to let anyone dangle long, what is going on in there!

Truly, there was reason enough for more than one of the persons who have been mentioned in these pages to be excited, for on this Wednesday before Maundy Thursday Hans Unwirrsch and Moses Freudenstein were taking their final examination and, if they should pass, would thus conclude their school life.

That was why Uncle Grünebaum had taken an unusual holiday and stood at the corner in festive attire, that was why he held his position in the market-day crowd with an obstinacy that deserved recognition, that was why he plucked so convulsively at the coat buttons of those acquaintances who incautiously inquired into the reason of his unusually elaborate get-up. It was most unwillingly that Master Grünebaum let go of any of the buttons that he took hold of that day. His soul was full of the important event. It might be regarded from almost too many points of view! If what was going on over there in the school-house should turn out as was expected and desired, whom would the world have to thank for it? None other than the honorable Master Grünebaum! When the confused neighbor or acquaintance had finally torn himself out of Master Grünebaum's grasp, he was far from being clear for some minutes as to who it was that was being examined by Professor Fackler, Uncle Grünebaum or Uncle Grünebaum's nephew, Hans Unwirrsch.

At twelve o'clock the examination was to be over and from moment to moment Uncle Grünebaum's nervous system vibrated more and more violently. He took off his hat and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief; he clapped it on again, pushed it back, pushed it forward, to the right and to the left. He took his long coat-tails under his arms and dropped them again; he blew his nose so that the report could be heard three streets off. He began to talk aloud to himself and gesticulated much at the same time, to the high edification of all the male and female gapers in the shop doors and behind the windows nearby. The market-women whose path he had blocked all the morning, often set down their baskets of eggs and vegetables and their cans of milk in order to make him budge, at least morally, but he was deaf to their pointed suggestions. On that day he would have let even a dog treat him contemptuously.

At a quarter to twelve he drank his sixth glass of bitters in the nearest grocer's shop and it was high time that he did so, for he felt so weak on his feet that he was nearly ready to fall. From now on he held his watch, an heirloom for which a collector of curiosities would have paid much money, convulsively in his trembling hand and when the clock of the town church struck twelve he nearly went home and to bed, "finished and done for."

He drank another glass of bitters; it was the seventh, and together with the others it had its effect, and its consequences were more noticeable than those of the previous ones.

Uncle Grünebaum now leant firmly against the wall; he smiled through tears. From time to time he made gestures of warding something off as if he would drive uninvited feelings back within bounds; it was fortunate for him that at this hour the younger portion of the population was abandoning itself to the pleasures of the dinner table – this spared him many affronts and ironical remarks. He began to attract the attention of the police and they, maternally concerned about him, gave him the advice not to wait any longer but to go home, the result of which was only that he leant still more firmly against the wall and with displeased grunts, snorts and hiccoughs gave utterance to his intention to wait at that corner for "the lad" till doomsday. Since as yet he did not seriously disturb the public peace, the police retired a little but kept a sharp eye upon him ready at any moment to spring forward and seize him.

Fortunately not only the laudable protectors of public safety watched over Master Nik'las but also his guardian angel, or rather, the latter just returned from attending to some private business, to resume his watch. He saw with horror how matters stood and it was most probably due to his mediation that over in the school-house a violent shock ran suddenly through the learned soul of Professor Fackler as he remembered his Lesbia waiting for him to come home to dinner. He glanced hastily at his watch and jumped from his seat; the other gentlemen rustled after him, secundum ordinem. The candidates, before whose eyes everything had gradually begun to swim, rose also, dizzy, sweating and exhausted. Uncle Grünebaum now had to keep his balance for only a short quarter of an hour more; – at a quarter to one he sank, he fell, he toppled into the arms of his pale, excited nephew – Victory! Hans Unwirrsch had triumphed, Master Grünebaum had triumphed; the one over the questions of seven examining instructors, the other over the seven glasses of bitters – Victory!

Professor Fackler wanted to go up to Hans' uncle to congratulate him but refrained in shocked surprise when he recognized the excellent man's upset condition; Moses Freudenstein, primus inter pares, laughed not a little at the helpless and piteous glances that Hans Unwirrsch threw in all directions; the happiness of the hour however had made his heart softer than usual, he offered to aid his friend, and between the two youths the jolly old boy Nik'las Grünebaum made for Kröppel Street, smiling and babbling, staggering and sobbing.

What did it matter that as soon as he got into the low, dark room Uncle Grünebaum dropped onto the nearest chair, laid his arms on the table and his head on his arms? What did Mother Christine and Auntie Schlotterbeck care about Uncle Grünebaum in this hour? They left him entirely to himself and to his seven glasses of bitters! The two women were almost as bewildered and confused as the master; they sobbed and smiled at the same time, as he had sobbed and smiled and Hans was not behind them in emotion and jubilance.

The day was won by the two boys from Kröppel Street; Moses Freudenstein of course had passed first among all the candidates; but Hans Unwirrsch had achieved the second place.

Everything in the room looked different from usual; a magic light had spread over everything. It was no wonder that the glass globe shone; it was too intimate with the sun not to sparkle on such a day as if it were a little sun itself. Anyone who looked at it carefully saw that more was reflected in it than he would have suspected: laughing and weeping faces, bits of the walls, a part of Kröppel Street with a piece of blue sky, the royal Westphalian body-servant and the junk-dealer Samuel Freudenstein who pulled the said servant from his hook with strange haste and shut the shutters and door of his house.

Auntie Schlotterbeck saw this occurrence, which was reflected in the hanging globe, through the window and was just about to give vent to her wonder at it when Uncle Grünebaum raised his tired head from the table and began to survey his surroundings with more than astonished glances. He rubbed his eyes, ran his fingers through his hair and took his place once more in the family circle with the remark that any excess of joy and jubilance was very dangerous and might bring on attacks of something like apoplexy, as his "own bodily example" had just shown. With his senses he had regained in rich measure the gift of dulcet speech and as usual immediately made liberal use of it.

"So this young man here, our nephew and descendant, has been an honor to his beloved relatives and now it's certain that cobbling isn't the thing for him. He has now successfully put his head through the hole according to his desire, and thus with time and experience will probably be able to squeeze body and legs through also, and we may certainly be of good hope that he will not forget us on this side of the wall when he has drawn his feet after his head. There are indeed instances of examples to show that a genius will get his head wrenched in pushing himself through and that he consequently loses all memory of what is behind the wall and who is there and has helped to push with all his strength. But this Hans here present will remember his uncle, also his mother and, of course, don't let us forget, Auntie Schlotterbeck. He will ever recall what they have done for him and how he can never thank them enough for it. There he stands now, Christine Unwirrsch, née Grünebaum; there he stands, Auntie Schlotterbeck, and his head is full of good things and the tears run over his cheeks, so that it is a joyful spectacle and a painful pleasure. We will not deny that he has learnt more than what's right and reasonable, and if Auntie questions him in Greek he will answer in Hebrew. So let us be thankful for the good gift and not trouble ourselves about the devil's taking one and all, odd and even. Come here, my boy, and even if you did once infamously despise the most honorable trade, and are at present nearer to a pastor than to the pitch-cobbler Grünebaum, yet come here and embrace me; from the bottom of his heart your uncle says 'here's to you' on this your day of honor!"

There was sense in the nonsense that Uncle Grünebaum delivered with such pathos; but even if it had been nothing but drivel Hans would have thrown himself into the worthy man's wide open arms notwithstanding. After hugging and squeezing his uncle for some minutes he kissed his mother over again, then once more went through the same process with Auntie Schlotterbeck, striving all the time to express his overflowing feelings in words.

"Oh, how shall I thank you all for what you have done for me!" he cried. "Oh Mother, if only my father were still alive!"

At this exclamation of her son's his mother naturally broke into loud sobs; but Auntie Schlotterbeck merely folded her hands in her lap, nodded her head and smiled without giving utterance to her thoughts. All at once however she rose quickly from her chair, seized Mrs. Christine by the skirt and pointed mysteriously to the window.

They all looked in the direction she indicated, but no one else saw anything. Kröppel Street lay bathed in the noonday sunshine but none of its inhabitants was to be seen; the junk-dealer's house looked as if its inmates had deserted it half a century ago; only a cat made use of the quiet moment to cross the street cautiously.

"She is enough to give one the shivers in broad daylight," murmured Uncle Grünebaum with a timid sidelong glance at Auntie Schlotterbeck; the mother clasped her son's hand tighter and drew him nearer to her; whatever may have been Hans' opinion of Auntie Schlotterbeck's mysterious gifts he was not able at that moment to defend himself against the feeling that her behavior aroused in him.

What a waking was that on the morning after this difficult and happy day! A victor who has triumphantly pitched his tent on a conquered battlefield, a young girl who has become engaged the evening before at a ball, may perhaps wake with the same feelings as Hans Unwirrsch after his examination. The nerves have not yet grown calm but one is permeated by the blissful feeling that they have time to become calm. After-tremors of the great excitement still twitch through the soul but in spite of that, nay, just on that account, one has a sense of security approaching ecstasy. What remains of human happiness if we subtract from it the hope that goes before the struggle, before the attainment of the desire and these first confused, indistinct moments that follow it?

Summa cum laude! smiled the sun that played about the bed in which Hans Unwirrsch lay with half-closed eyelids. Summa cum laude! twittered the early sparrows and swallows in front of his window. Summa cum laude! cried the bells that rang in Maundy Thursday. Summa cum laude! said Hans Unwirrsch as he stood in the middle of his room and made a low bow – to himself.

He had not quite finished dressing when his mother slipped into the room. She had left her shoes below, near the stairs, so as not to wake Auntie Schlotterbeck, whose bedroom was next to that of Hans. She sat down on her son's bed and regarded him with simple pride and her glance did him good to the inmost recesses of his soul.

Downstairs the holiday coffee was waiting and Auntie Schlotterbeck sat at the table. She had left her shoes upstairs by her bedroom door so as not to wake the student and Mrs. Christine, and their consideration of one another gave rise to much laughter. There was a piece of jubilee cake too and although Maundy Thursday is only a half holiday, as every toiler knows, it was settled that it was to be kept as a whole one.

First, of course, they went to church after Hans had knocked again vainly at the junk-dealer's door. Since old Samuel had taken the body-servant of King Jerome from his hook and thus removed him forever from what to him in truth had been the swirl and swing of life, the door had not been opened again. What was going on behind it was a riddle to Kröppel Street, but a still greater riddle to Hans who had not seen his friend since they had walked home together after the examination and who had returned unsuccessful from every attempt to penetrate into the house opposite. Murx, the retired town constable, who still kept watch on Kröppel Street, from his armchair, in helpless fury and goutier than ever, had already drawn the attention of his successor in office to the "confoundedly suspicious case;" indeed, the burgomaster had already shaken his head over it. The silent house began to disturb the peace of the town more than the most drunken brawler could have done.

But the bells called people to church, and along came Uncle Grünebaum, in his blue coat, sea-green breeches and striped waistcoat, armed with the mightiest of all hymnbooks as a shield against all bitter and sweet temptations, an ornament to every street through which he marched, an adornment to every gathering of Christians, politicians and civilized men that he honored with his presence.

Hans and his mother walked hand in hand and at Auntie Schlotterbeck's side strode Uncle Grünebaum, who lost a little of his self-conscious respectability only when he turned the corner where the day before he had – where his feelings had overwhelmed him the day before. He drew out a very red handkerchief, blew his nose violently and thus passed successfully by the disastrous spot and landed his dignity without damage in the family pew. It is a pity that we cannot devote a chapter to his singing; no cobbler ever caroled with greater reverence and power through his nose.

Hans did not understand much of the sermon on that day and although it was rather long it seemed to him very short. Even the stone skeleton on the old monument beside the Unwirrsches' place in church, that monster which Hans, long after he had ceased to be a child, could never dissociate from the idea of church, grinned "Summa cum laude!" "Summa cum laude!" sang all the pipes of the organ and it was to this accompaniment that the family left the house of God. Above all there was "Summa cum laude!" in Professor Fackler's smile, who had also been at church with Cornelia and Eugenia, and who did not think it beneath his dignity to walk part of the way with his favorite's relatives, thus being enabled to offer Uncle Grünebaum the congratulations he had had ready the day before.