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Updated: May 12, 2025
"The old regime passed with him. Adolf Scherer succeeds him, and you may take my word for it, he's a coming man. Mr. Durrett, who was a judge of men, recognized that. Scherer was an emigrant, he had ideas, and rose to be a foreman. For the last few years Mr. Durrett threw everything on his shoulders...."
The greatest genius in all modern German art Adolf Menzel I came to know under rather curious circumstances. He was a little man, not more than four feet high, with an enormous head, as may be seen by his bust in the Berlin Museum.
In the summer holidays we often took journeys generally to Dresden, where our father's mother with her daughter, our aunt Sophie, had gone to live, the latter having married Baron Adolf von Brandenstein, an officer in the Saxon Guard, who, after laying aside the bearskin cap and red coat, the becoming uniform of that time, was at the head of the Dresden post office.
After you had left me last night he came to my study with a malicious er fabrication respecting yourself which I need not ah particularize. James looked pained. Awful thing it is, this nourishing vipers in one's bosom. 'Why, I've been giving Adolf English lessons nearly every day lately. No sense of gratitude, these foreigners, he said, sadly.
'We are much obliged to you, Adolf, he said courteously; 'but in compliment to his comrades I feel sure that Unziar will hardly wish to allow any other to undertake this special matter. Adolf would have spoken again, but Unziar stopped him. 'As a personal favour, Adolf, leave it to me, he said. Adiron, who had thus far taken no part in the discussion, now struck in.
It was not heard at supper, to which he was called by his wife in the usual brief manner: “Adolf.” He sat down to consume it without conviction, wearing his hat pushed far back on his head.
In a far corner of the tent Adolf was bending his cat-like moustaches over a kettle. He left it at once to draw the cork of a pint-bottle of champagne. Swithin smiled, and, nodding at Bosinney, said: "Why, you're quite a Monte Cristo!" This celebrated novel one of the half-dozen he had read had produced an extraordinary impression on his mind.
Then there was signaling between the Montauk and her own neighbor destroyer about sailing formation in the danger zone. It was almost like A B C to Tom, but he remembered Mr. Conne's good advice and resolved not to concern himself with matters outside his own little sphere of duty. But a few days later he made a discovery which turned his thoughts again to Adolf Schmitt's cellar and to spies.
In a far corner of the tent Adolf was bending his cat-like moustaches over a kettle. He left it at once to draw the cork of a pint-bottle of champagne. Swithin smiled, and, nodding at Bosinney, said: "Why, you're quite a Monte Cristo!" This celebrated novel one of the half-dozen he had read had produced an extraordinary impression on his mind.
Luck, I suppose, replied he. 'But I, for one, am not sorry. The man's worth keeping. 'He shapes well, commented Adolf. 'But how will the chief take it? 'I am going to find the Colonel and tell him what has happened, said Unziar. 'I don't know how you fellows feel about it, but I say for myself that the Guard might have done a good deal worse.
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