United States or Niue ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Thereat he looked at me again, with so much eloquence of expression that I had to blush and turn my head away. Then the little German, Mr. Fleisch, sat down at the piano and performed a series of pieces in illustration of what he had explained to me, including a sonata in four bars, a symphony in three chords, and a song without words, in paraphrase of Mr.
In a very short time, the man returned and put down before him a gemuse suppe, following this with schweine fleisch, sauerkraut, and gherkins a luncheon which might have been cooked in a German's own kitchen and set before him a glass of beer which Edestone would have sworn had not been brewed outside of the city of Munich.
I studied the theories of tenement houses and hygiene, and became a leading spirit in several charitable organizations. I renewed also my old habit of reading, and no longer confined myself to the philosophic and dry subjects pursued under Mr. Fleisch.
No Frenchman, Englishman, or American could be taught, let alone achieve of his own free will, the utter self-forgetfulness with which this vast creature, every muscle tense, breathing like a race-horse, roared, or rather exploded: "Herr Hauptmann! Mannschafts-Kuche-desten-Landwehr- Regiments! Belegt-mit-einem-Unter-offizier-und-zehn-Mann! Wir essen heute Suppe mit Nudeln und Fleisch! Zu Befehl!"
"You shall judge between us," continued Paul Barr addressing me. "Which is better, the free undulation of self, or eternal tension?" "A fine antithesis," murmured Miss Kingsley. "Mein Gott! but it is not true, that free undulation of self. It deceives, it deludes: it is a what word is it I am seeking? a eh I have it, boomerang, a boomerang that plagues the inventor," said Mr. Fleisch.
Once in a while, however, he would approach me in a constrained fashion, and express satisfaction with the reports Mr. Fleisch made of my progress. It was through his silent agency also, I had no question, that I was appointed treasurer, and was regarded as a prominent worker in the cause. With Miss Kingsley, on the other hand, he was easy and familiar.
Spence from his appearance was fairly entitled to be called a moderationist. He had nothing of the splendid savagery of Mr. Paul Barr, whose luxuriant and matted head of hair now struck my attention, nor the student-like insignificance of Mr. Fleisch. He was neither tall nor short, stout nor inadequately spare; and he was in evening dress like anybody else.
Spence, and the consciousness grieved me. But I did not falter in my purpose. Mr. Fleisch called to see me the following day and laid out an elaborate course of study. He was to come twice a week to examine me and give me suggestions, but he said that my progress was mainly dependent on my own exertions.
There was a little murmur of expectation, and Mr. Fleisch brimming over with excitement said, "Bad drainage." "No excuse. Sea near. Inhabitants should agitate question," continued Mr. Spence. "Everybody appearance of health notwithstanding," exclaimed Miss Kingsley. "Overmuch ozone," said Mr. Spence. "Unhealthy stimulus. Reaction later," added the little German. "Are we clear?
We do not regard it of importance, and you will not a little later; but just at first it is perhaps as well. Do you know Mr. Fleisch by reputation? He plays with an artistic charm, rare even in this musical epoch. He is a follower of Mr. Spence, and is seeking to apply his principles of moderation to music with striking success. Ah! you must excuse me, dear, it is his knock."
Word Of The Day