DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0210
202
AN ART-STUDENT IN MUNICH.
although your blear eyes can no longer read the words, that
nailed up upon these very gates are official denunciations
against all thieves, purloiners, and smokers of pipes or
cigars within the precincts of the Royal Enclosure; never-
theless, pursue fearlessly your way home to your wretched
dwelling, miserable little old woman ! for you are no great
sinner after all: muttering confused words about “ cold”
and “ the dearness of wood,” you had come tottering across
the rich wood-yard, and never had reached your hands
towards the tempting stacks of the King’s wood •, and when
at the very threshold, out in the road, lay a tine piece of
timber, surely it must have been flung down for you by
the loving hands of the Angel of Mercy !
But now, in fancy, I see quite a different scene going on
in the wood-yard ! The snow and ice have vanished from
the earth—there is a vernal freshness in the air, a softness,
an awakening life ; water is pouring in from all the sluices
of the mill-stream, the green mill-stream itself is dashing
and tumbling about like a mad thing. All the wood-yard
is transformed into a small lake, intersected by the raised
pathways which cross it here and there; and tumbling over
each other, and hurrying, and pushing, and scrambling,
and pitching, come hosts and thousands of small pieces of
timber, carried along by the rushing waters. The little
lake is covered with a navy of many thousand pieces of
wood.
Men are running to and fro with poles, pushing along
stranding pieces of timber, or inspecting the flow of water,
the dykes, and dams, and locks. It is a veryanimated scene,
and the children of the St. Anna suburb know this, and all
the day through, groups of children may be seen watching
and shouting with merriment as the waters continue to
flow along, bearing upon their small green waves these
miniature navies 1
AN ART-STUDENT IN MUNICH.
although your blear eyes can no longer read the words, that
nailed up upon these very gates are official denunciations
against all thieves, purloiners, and smokers of pipes or
cigars within the precincts of the Royal Enclosure; never-
theless, pursue fearlessly your way home to your wretched
dwelling, miserable little old woman ! for you are no great
sinner after all: muttering confused words about “ cold”
and “ the dearness of wood,” you had come tottering across
the rich wood-yard, and never had reached your hands
towards the tempting stacks of the King’s wood •, and when
at the very threshold, out in the road, lay a tine piece of
timber, surely it must have been flung down for you by
the loving hands of the Angel of Mercy !
But now, in fancy, I see quite a different scene going on
in the wood-yard ! The snow and ice have vanished from
the earth—there is a vernal freshness in the air, a softness,
an awakening life ; water is pouring in from all the sluices
of the mill-stream, the green mill-stream itself is dashing
and tumbling about like a mad thing. All the wood-yard
is transformed into a small lake, intersected by the raised
pathways which cross it here and there; and tumbling over
each other, and hurrying, and pushing, and scrambling,
and pitching, come hosts and thousands of small pieces of
timber, carried along by the rushing waters. The little
lake is covered with a navy of many thousand pieces of
wood.
Men are running to and fro with poles, pushing along
stranding pieces of timber, or inspecting the flow of water,
the dykes, and dams, and locks. It is a veryanimated scene,
and the children of the St. Anna suburb know this, and all
the day through, groups of children may be seen watching
and shouting with merriment as the waters continue to
flow along, bearing upon their small green waves these
miniature navies 1