DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0215
IMMER SO FLEISSIG.
207
and rush into some ear-piercing exercise., or rattle over
the keys of the piano, in order to render it impossible for
our innocent tormentor to gain a word from her. Still
would she remain conscious of eyes fixed upon her with a
gaze of admiring astonishment,—of a face held most
pertinaciously upon one side,—of a pah’ of poor old bony
hands crossed patiently over the pit of the old Friiulein’s
stomach •, and the words “ Immer so fleissig ! Immer so
fleissig I” would pierce to Isabel’s nerves spite of shriek-
ings or thunder of piano-keys.
As for Anna ! her resource in such extremities is intense
abstraction : if she is writing letters how intolerably fast
does her pen scratch over the paper—often words of utter
nonsense ! Her head is never raised, yet her eyes see, as if
by clairvoyance, that droll old visage ogling her across the
room, and she hears, above the scratch of the pen, the
“ Immer so fleissig ! Immer so fleissig 1” dropping from her
lips. And thus will the two continue,—the one to scribble
in frantic haste with unraised head, the other gazing at her
from a distance with eyes of humble wonder mingled with
rising ill-humour—until the old Fraulein flounces off in a
huff, remaining black as a thunder-cloud for the next four-
and-twenty hours; or Anna is fairly vanquished, and raising
her face smiles ! and is repaid by a ten-minutes’ martyrdom
of exclamations over her “ Fleiss,” and over her extraordi-
nary correspondence, and of enquiries after every “ Herr”
“ Frau ” and “ Fraulein” member of her “much respected
and highly well-born family”—unlucky Anna ! Or if
Anna is drawing, then is the martyrdom somewhat varied.
“ Ah, when,” says the loquacious soul, “ will people learn
in their youth to spare their precious, dear little eyes?
Ah !” she knew well—that she did—what it was to over-
work the eyes !—yes, yes ! she knew well enough the
207
and rush into some ear-piercing exercise., or rattle over
the keys of the piano, in order to render it impossible for
our innocent tormentor to gain a word from her. Still
would she remain conscious of eyes fixed upon her with a
gaze of admiring astonishment,—of a face held most
pertinaciously upon one side,—of a pah’ of poor old bony
hands crossed patiently over the pit of the old Friiulein’s
stomach •, and the words “ Immer so fleissig ! Immer so
fleissig I” would pierce to Isabel’s nerves spite of shriek-
ings or thunder of piano-keys.
As for Anna ! her resource in such extremities is intense
abstraction : if she is writing letters how intolerably fast
does her pen scratch over the paper—often words of utter
nonsense ! Her head is never raised, yet her eyes see, as if
by clairvoyance, that droll old visage ogling her across the
room, and she hears, above the scratch of the pen, the
“ Immer so fleissig ! Immer so fleissig 1” dropping from her
lips. And thus will the two continue,—the one to scribble
in frantic haste with unraised head, the other gazing at her
from a distance with eyes of humble wonder mingled with
rising ill-humour—until the old Fraulein flounces off in a
huff, remaining black as a thunder-cloud for the next four-
and-twenty hours; or Anna is fairly vanquished, and raising
her face smiles ! and is repaid by a ten-minutes’ martyrdom
of exclamations over her “ Fleiss,” and over her extraordi-
nary correspondence, and of enquiries after every “ Herr”
“ Frau ” and “ Fraulein” member of her “much respected
and highly well-born family”—unlucky Anna ! Or if
Anna is drawing, then is the martyrdom somewhat varied.
“ Ah, when,” says the loquacious soul, “ will people learn
in their youth to spare their precious, dear little eyes?
Ah !” she knew well—that she did—what it was to over-
work the eyes !—yes, yes ! she knew well enough the