DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0213
FOOD FOR REPENTANCE.
205
Poor old souls ! I cannot avoid smiling when I recall
the scene,—or rather the sounds. For two whole hours
we had heard talk ! talk ! talk ! and that too in the loudest
of voices. I supposed at first that this was merely some
Easter visit they were receiving, and thus also explained
why Fraulein Sanchen had never made her appearance for
the removal of our dinner cloth.
I opened the door,—so very extraordinary waxed the
sounds ; and I then heard the voice of Madame Thekla at
its highest pitch proceeding from her little sitting-room,
interspersed every now and then with a short scornful
laugh. At the same time, out of the kitchen, Fraulein
Sanchen poured forth another torrent of words with ditto
laugh, —- scouring away meanwhile vehemently; yes,
scouring away, although it was Easter Sunday afternoon.
Scouring is her joy and consolation, I verily believe !
Perceiving how matters stood, I broke in with a loud
ringing of our hand-bell.
Having arranged her features into becoming calmness,
the poor old Fraulein made her appearance.
“ Have you had company, Fraulein Sanchen ?” I asked :
“ what a tremendous talking there has been in your
kitchen !”
“ No ! no ! surfs angry!” replied the old creature,
removing the table-cloth, and uttering the words with such
a comically black thunder-cloud look—with such an irre-
sistible nod and then a wink—that had she only been a
comic actress she would have made her fortune.
“ J a ! J a ! Sie ist bose !” And this was all she would
vouchsafe about the grand quarrel. 'When she comes in
she nods, and when she goes out she winks, and between
the two wears the thunder-cloud upon her brow. To-day
she had put on, for the first time since Lent, her favourite
205
Poor old souls ! I cannot avoid smiling when I recall
the scene,—or rather the sounds. For two whole hours
we had heard talk ! talk ! talk ! and that too in the loudest
of voices. I supposed at first that this was merely some
Easter visit they were receiving, and thus also explained
why Fraulein Sanchen had never made her appearance for
the removal of our dinner cloth.
I opened the door,—so very extraordinary waxed the
sounds ; and I then heard the voice of Madame Thekla at
its highest pitch proceeding from her little sitting-room,
interspersed every now and then with a short scornful
laugh. At the same time, out of the kitchen, Fraulein
Sanchen poured forth another torrent of words with ditto
laugh, —- scouring away meanwhile vehemently; yes,
scouring away, although it was Easter Sunday afternoon.
Scouring is her joy and consolation, I verily believe !
Perceiving how matters stood, I broke in with a loud
ringing of our hand-bell.
Having arranged her features into becoming calmness,
the poor old Fraulein made her appearance.
“ Have you had company, Fraulein Sanchen ?” I asked :
“ what a tremendous talking there has been in your
kitchen !”
“ No ! no ! surfs angry!” replied the old creature,
removing the table-cloth, and uttering the words with such
a comically black thunder-cloud look—with such an irre-
sistible nod and then a wink—that had she only been a
comic actress she would have made her fortune.
“ J a ! J a ! Sie ist bose !” And this was all she would
vouchsafe about the grand quarrel. 'When she comes in
she nods, and when she goes out she winks, and between
the two wears the thunder-cloud upon her brow. To-day
she had put on, for the first time since Lent, her favourite