DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62133#0087
BITS OF MUNICH LIFE.
71
just before us; and very amusing it was. One little fellow
leaned, with all the air of a used-up man of fashion, against
the balustrade of the orchestra, in the face of the whole
assembly, yawning with the greatest disdain of all present,
whilst he crossed his little legs and played with his little
gloved hands.
There is nothing strange in our venturing to concerts
and theatres by ourselves,—nothing can be easier or more
comfortable. We walk quietly to the Opera in the pleasant
sunshine : the theatre looking beautiful with its fresco-
painted pediment, and all the square alive with a gay crowd
streaming also theatre-war ds. We take our places quietly
in the reserved seats; and having thoroughly enjoyed our-
selves at the cost of twenty-pence, walk home again equally
quietly and comfortably. There is no crushing of carriages
and cabs, no shouting of watermen and cab-drivers. Two
or three carriages may be there, their lamps shining out
like huge glow-worms at the bottom of the flight of steps ;
but people who have carriages get quietly into them, and
there is no stir or bustle ; and those who have none wend
their way home singly or in groups, and the moon lights
up that beautiful little square, with its palace-front, its
theatre, its Pompeian-like post-office, its quaint side of old
shops ; or the stars look down out of a deep blue calm sky,
and all is silence and poetry.
On our return yesterday from dinner at the Meyerischen
Garten, I was informed that the lady of the - Am-
bassador had called and left an invitation for me for that
evening. I was not in a visiting humour, and the idea of
going quite alone to these grand people daunted me. I
have courage enough for most things; I am sure I could
travel to China—very easily all over America—by myself;
but going alone to a ball, or even to a little party, among
strangers, is my idea of desolation; and this evening I
71
just before us; and very amusing it was. One little fellow
leaned, with all the air of a used-up man of fashion, against
the balustrade of the orchestra, in the face of the whole
assembly, yawning with the greatest disdain of all present,
whilst he crossed his little legs and played with his little
gloved hands.
There is nothing strange in our venturing to concerts
and theatres by ourselves,—nothing can be easier or more
comfortable. We walk quietly to the Opera in the pleasant
sunshine : the theatre looking beautiful with its fresco-
painted pediment, and all the square alive with a gay crowd
streaming also theatre-war ds. We take our places quietly
in the reserved seats; and having thoroughly enjoyed our-
selves at the cost of twenty-pence, walk home again equally
quietly and comfortably. There is no crushing of carriages
and cabs, no shouting of watermen and cab-drivers. Two
or three carriages may be there, their lamps shining out
like huge glow-worms at the bottom of the flight of steps ;
but people who have carriages get quietly into them, and
there is no stir or bustle ; and those who have none wend
their way home singly or in groups, and the moon lights
up that beautiful little square, with its palace-front, its
theatre, its Pompeian-like post-office, its quaint side of old
shops ; or the stars look down out of a deep blue calm sky,
and all is silence and poetry.
On our return yesterday from dinner at the Meyerischen
Garten, I was informed that the lady of the - Am-
bassador had called and left an invitation for me for that
evening. I was not in a visiting humour, and the idea of
going quite alone to these grand people daunted me. I
have courage enough for most things; I am sure I could
travel to China—very easily all over America—by myself;
but going alone to a ball, or even to a little party, among
strangers, is my idea of desolation; and this evening I