DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0178
170
AN ART-STUDENT IN MUNICH,
even a wreath of artificial ones. She lay stiff and stark
in a black silk dress• a prim lace cap was fastened around
her rigid, old face; her feet poked out of the coffin in a
pair of stuff shoes tied on with broad sandals. There was
something unusually affecting to me in these poor, aged
feet attired in the old-fashioned shoes; they evidently
were the shoes she had saved up as her holiday shoes, her
shoes for feasts and festivals,—and now they were going
down with her into the grave to the feast of worms. No
one but myself cast more than a glance at the poor old
lady,—all eyes turned towards the handsome student • she
was but a withered last year’s kex; he was a vigorous
young tree fallen in a sudden storm.
The crowd jostled and pushed and talked and made
itself very comfortable, greatly enjoying the spectacle.
“Eh ! eh ! that’s a fine corpse I” remarked a jolly red-
faced woman, wearing a golden swallow-tailed cap upon
the very back of her curly black head. “ But he does not
look so handsome—does he, Lina ? as when—”
The “ when” was lost in a whisper into Lina’s ear, and
the jolly woman and smart girl passed on.
“ Ach ! and this is what we shall all come to sooner or
later,” moralized a ragged, shrivelled old man, with a blue
nose and very wheezy voice.
“ Only nineteen years of age ! poor thing I poor thing !
and she a Braut (betrothed girl), too !” sighed a gentle,
motberly-1 poking woman, who might have been a baker’s
or miller’s wife, gazing in through the window.
“ Poor Marie I” spoke another voice : “to think of her
lying there in the very ball-clothes in which she was to
have danced with her bridegroom at last Thursday’s ball!”
And the speakers thrust their faces up to the window
where many other faces were thrust.
On either side of the window hung a kind of “ table of
AN ART-STUDENT IN MUNICH,
even a wreath of artificial ones. She lay stiff and stark
in a black silk dress• a prim lace cap was fastened around
her rigid, old face; her feet poked out of the coffin in a
pair of stuff shoes tied on with broad sandals. There was
something unusually affecting to me in these poor, aged
feet attired in the old-fashioned shoes; they evidently
were the shoes she had saved up as her holiday shoes, her
shoes for feasts and festivals,—and now they were going
down with her into the grave to the feast of worms. No
one but myself cast more than a glance at the poor old
lady,—all eyes turned towards the handsome student • she
was but a withered last year’s kex; he was a vigorous
young tree fallen in a sudden storm.
The crowd jostled and pushed and talked and made
itself very comfortable, greatly enjoying the spectacle.
“Eh ! eh ! that’s a fine corpse I” remarked a jolly red-
faced woman, wearing a golden swallow-tailed cap upon
the very back of her curly black head. “ But he does not
look so handsome—does he, Lina ? as when—”
The “ when” was lost in a whisper into Lina’s ear, and
the jolly woman and smart girl passed on.
“ Ach ! and this is what we shall all come to sooner or
later,” moralized a ragged, shrivelled old man, with a blue
nose and very wheezy voice.
“ Only nineteen years of age ! poor thing I poor thing !
and she a Braut (betrothed girl), too !” sighed a gentle,
motberly-1 poking woman, who might have been a baker’s
or miller’s wife, gazing in through the window.
“ Poor Marie I” spoke another voice : “to think of her
lying there in the very ball-clothes in which she was to
have danced with her bridegroom at last Thursday’s ball!”
And the speakers thrust their faces up to the window
where many other faces were thrust.
On either side of the window hung a kind of “ table of