DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0058
50
AN ART-STUDENT IN MUNICH.
It was well for us all that our spirits were unusually
gay this morning, else they might have been somewhat de-
pressed by the uncomfortable dejeuner d la fourchette which
was in due course spread for us beneath the tender beech-
leaves. It consisted of indifferent coffee, sour wine, boiled
beef like India-rubber, flabby veal, and miserable potato-
salad. Nobody, however, seemed put at all out of humour
by the unsatisfactory viands, and the little inn seemed to
be particularly attractive to hungry souls—or rather bodies.
The garden became quite animated; first one group after
another arrived and dispersed themselves about, and waiters
and waitresses ran madly hither and thither.
A much pleasanter object than the breakfast was the
expanse of water which lay beneath and before us •> boats
with their blue and white pennons were seen traversing it in
every direction, and the white sails of a small yacht belonging
to an Englishman resident at Munich were discerned across
the lake like the wings of some large bird. And real white
wings of birds, the wings of gulls, dipped ever and anon
into the sunny waters, and then soared joyously into the
sunny sky. But cannon booming across the lake, we
hastened down to the shore, intending to await the approach
of the little steamer. But upon nearer inspection we found
that she still lay a moveless black mass in the distance;
and King Max not bearing as punctual a character as our
Queen Victoria, we pursued our little voyage.
The programme of the Fete, which we had procured at
the inn, informedusthatthere would be “Music atPossen-
hofen •” and to Possenhofen consequently we would go,
calling at Lione by the way. Possenhofen is on the oppo-
site side of the lake to Lione.
But our boatman had disappeared ! No great loss, how-
ever, for he was a surly fellow. Whilst the gentlemen
were hunting about for another boat, one came towards the
AN ART-STUDENT IN MUNICH.
It was well for us all that our spirits were unusually
gay this morning, else they might have been somewhat de-
pressed by the uncomfortable dejeuner d la fourchette which
was in due course spread for us beneath the tender beech-
leaves. It consisted of indifferent coffee, sour wine, boiled
beef like India-rubber, flabby veal, and miserable potato-
salad. Nobody, however, seemed put at all out of humour
by the unsatisfactory viands, and the little inn seemed to
be particularly attractive to hungry souls—or rather bodies.
The garden became quite animated; first one group after
another arrived and dispersed themselves about, and waiters
and waitresses ran madly hither and thither.
A much pleasanter object than the breakfast was the
expanse of water which lay beneath and before us •> boats
with their blue and white pennons were seen traversing it in
every direction, and the white sails of a small yacht belonging
to an Englishman resident at Munich were discerned across
the lake like the wings of some large bird. And real white
wings of birds, the wings of gulls, dipped ever and anon
into the sunny waters, and then soared joyously into the
sunny sky. But cannon booming across the lake, we
hastened down to the shore, intending to await the approach
of the little steamer. But upon nearer inspection we found
that she still lay a moveless black mass in the distance;
and King Max not bearing as punctual a character as our
Queen Victoria, we pursued our little voyage.
The programme of the Fete, which we had procured at
the inn, informedusthatthere would be “Music atPossen-
hofen •” and to Possenhofen consequently we would go,
calling at Lione by the way. Possenhofen is on the oppo-
site side of the lake to Lione.
But our boatman had disappeared ! No great loss, how-
ever, for he was a surly fellow. Whilst the gentlemen
were hunting about for another boat, one came towards the