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Updated: June 9, 2025
They were then living at their pretty summer villa in the lovely Grosser Garten, near Dresden. I had looked them up at once the first time I went to Dresden, but as I had not at that time the slightest idea of how things were going to turn out, I had told them nothing, and had seen but little of them.
Suppose Messrs. Conto and Blag had given Dale erroneous information! I grew sick and faint at the thought. What laughter there would be in Olympus over my fool journey! In great agitation I clamoured for a programme of the Winter Garten entertainment. The hotel clerk put it into my trembling hands.
Countess Gisela Niebuhr sat in the long dusk of Munich staring over at the beautiful park that in happier days had been famous in the world as the Englischer Garten, and deliberately recalled on what might be the last night of her life the successive causes that had led to her profound dissatisfaction with her country as a woman.
Of that outer line the remains are yet to be seen by every traveller who follows the direct road to Pirna. They run from the Grosse Garten, which they include, all the way to the Elbe. On the other flanks of the city, from the Grosse Garten to the Elbe again, they are almost entirely effaced.
"Who are they?" "Oh, I vork by many place make garten und vork wit' horses, und so. Meesus Craikmile, I vork by her on garten. She iss dere no more." The young man paused suddenly in his stride. "Gone? Where is she gone?" "Oh, she iss by ol' country gone. Her man iss gone mit." They walked on. "What! Is the Elder gone, too?" "Yas. You know heem, yas?" "Oh, yes. I know everybody here.
Got bet be a boomblebee whenever he wus settin sleepin in hes bit garten. Digs up near the Mater. Buckled he is. Know his dona? Yup, sartin I do. Full of a dure. See her in her dishybilly. Peels off a credit. Lovey lovekin. None of your lean kine, not much. Pull down the blind, love. Two Ardilauns. Same here. Look slippery. If you fall don't wait to get up. Five, seven, nine. Fine!
When at last, as a young man, I used to listen to the Zillmann Orchestra in the Grosser Garten almost every afternoon, one may imagine the rapturous thrill with which I drew in all the chaotic variety of sound that I heard as the orchestra tuned up: the long drawn A of the oboe, which seemed like a call from the dead to rouse the other instruments, never failed to raise all my nerves to a feverish pitch of tension, and when the swelling C in the overture to Freischutz told me that I had stepped, as it were with both feet, right into the magic realm of awe.
Linda seated herself in the furthest corner of the room, and kept her eyes fixed upon a book. Peter sat and smoked with his eyes closed, and his great big shoes stuck out before him. In this way they remained for an hour. Then Peter got up, and expressed his intention of going out for a stroll in the Nonnen Garten.
A deep solemnity fell upon the masses of spectators and the crowd fell into rank to march to the Royal Palace, from a window of which King Ludwig spoke words of comfort and inspiration. Still singing the 'Wacht am Rhein, this river of humanity flowed on to the 'Englischen Garten, at the corner of which stands the Austrian Legation.
She entered the Hof Garten, sauntered down the Linden Allée thinking all the while how delightfully the comedy would end. Her own part, as good fairy of the play, pleased her, too, and she smiled to herself as she strayed off from the Allée and, seating herself on a bench that was well screened from prying eyes, she gave herself up to revery.
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