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"Come in, Herr Harris, come in, please. Your visit will be immensely appreciated. It is really very fine, very wonderful of you to have come in this way." The door closed behind them and, in the sudden light which made his sight swim for a moment, the exaggeration of the language escaped his attention. He heard the voice of Bruder Kalkmann introducing him.
'And when under the late Field Marshal Münich during the campaign, as well as little Caroline' Eh! eh! bruder! So he still remembers our old pranks? 'Now for business. I send you my rogue' Hum! 'Hold him with gloves of porcupine-skin' What does that mean 'gloves of porcupine-skin? It must be a Russian proverb. "What does it mean, 'hold with gloves of porcupine-skin?" resumed he, turning to me.
And the music, meanwhile, continued to issue from the white and snakelike fingers of Bruder Schliemann, as poisoned wine might issue from the weirdly fashioned necks of antique phials. And, with the rest of them, Harris drank it in. Forcing himself to believe that he had been the victim of some kind of illusory perception, he vigorously restrained his feelings.
"What! am I greater than my Master? Did not Christ take the hand of every poor, struggling man on earth that would let Him? Come, Mr. Bruder, if you have any real gratitude for the little I have done to show my interest in you and yours, grant me my request." "Do you really mean him?" he gasped. "Do you really vant to be drunken old Berthold Bruder's friend?"
Does he charge anything of the kind?7' "Oh, no! but he too seems possessed with the idea of becoming an artist. That drunken old Bruder, whom he appears to have reformed, was giving him lessons, and after working all day he would study much of the night and paint as soon as the light permitted in the morning.
Hastily repairing to one of the sheds, he there found a Hottentot servant at hard work in saddling one of his horse. "Piet," said he, speaking in great haste, "quick, mine poy! chump into your saddle, and ride out to the north till you meet mine bruder and Shames. Tell them not to come more so near as half a mile to the house for one hour. Make haste an' pe off!"
I have known men and women, courageous to a degree, who have broken dowm under the strain; sooner or later one is bound to succumb. I have known of a dozen men and women who have mysteriously disappeared, "dropped out of sight," caught or killed not always by their opponents. To cite but two cases, one of a woman, the other of a man. Olga Bruder was a spy.
Bruder, recovering from her bewilderment, hastily gathered a few things together, saying in the meantime, "Surely you don't dink our home burn up?" "Yes, my poor friend, in five minutes more we must all be out of this building." "Oh, den come dis minute!
Bruder to make her husband some very strong coffee in the morning, and to let him drink it through the day. As for Bruder, he had resolved to die rather than touch another drop of liquor. But how many poor victims of appetite have been haunted to the grave by such resolves shattered and gone almost as soon as made!
His first opera, 'Der Bärenhäuter' , was fairly successful, principally owing to a fantastic and semi-comic libretto. 'Herzog Wildfang' and 'Der Kobold' failed completely, nor does his latest work, 'Bruder Lustig' , raise very sanguine hopes as to its young composer's future career.
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