DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0163
“ THE FRANCISCAN IS THERE !” 155
robe between the large, green arum-leaves which half filled
the window of the little sitting-room. Soon I saw a
Franciscan, with a white robe over his brown frock, coming
down the steps of the house. A boy was with him, carry-
ing a censer. The lad had put a great-coat over his white
robes, as the day was very cold. The Franciscan read out
of a book. They both paused beneath the old wooden
gateway ■ the boy swinging his censer; the Franciscan
turning over the leaves of the book, and muttering• and
then away they went.
The little room, when I entered, was sweet with incense.
The old man was putting on his great cloak, and taking
up his wood-saw, preparatory to going out to his work;
the old dame—and a wooden-faced, heavy-featured old dame
she was—was scraping large radishes, which lay on the
table. There was no look of ceremony about the place.
I began my sketching.
“ May I ask why the Franciscan has been here ?” I
asked, after a little pause, during which the old woman had
scraped and I had drawn.
“ It is the custom for the Franciscans to go about during
the Festival of the Three Kings, to burn incense and pray
in the houses. They pray in every house •, and write upon
the door the date of the year and the Three Kings’ names
—Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthaser.”
I find, upon enquiry, that the custom is confined to the
suburbs of Munich, not prevailing in the city.
There were signs yesterday of the departure of the snow,
after these many weeks of frost.
Isabel pleaded so hard for us to have one more afternoon’s
sledging together, that I could neither resist her entreaties
nor the invitations given by the blue sky! Therefore we
set out to choose the sledge ourselves this time, determined-
robe between the large, green arum-leaves which half filled
the window of the little sitting-room. Soon I saw a
Franciscan, with a white robe over his brown frock, coming
down the steps of the house. A boy was with him, carry-
ing a censer. The lad had put a great-coat over his white
robes, as the day was very cold. The Franciscan read out
of a book. They both paused beneath the old wooden
gateway ■ the boy swinging his censer; the Franciscan
turning over the leaves of the book, and muttering• and
then away they went.
The little room, when I entered, was sweet with incense.
The old man was putting on his great cloak, and taking
up his wood-saw, preparatory to going out to his work;
the old dame—and a wooden-faced, heavy-featured old dame
she was—was scraping large radishes, which lay on the
table. There was no look of ceremony about the place.
I began my sketching.
“ May I ask why the Franciscan has been here ?” I
asked, after a little pause, during which the old woman had
scraped and I had drawn.
“ It is the custom for the Franciscans to go about during
the Festival of the Three Kings, to burn incense and pray
in the houses. They pray in every house •, and write upon
the door the date of the year and the Three Kings’ names
—Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthaser.”
I find, upon enquiry, that the custom is confined to the
suburbs of Munich, not prevailing in the city.
There were signs yesterday of the departure of the snow,
after these many weeks of frost.
Isabel pleaded so hard for us to have one more afternoon’s
sledging together, that I could neither resist her entreaties
nor the invitations given by the blue sky! Therefore we
set out to choose the sledge ourselves this time, determined-