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Updated: May 25, 2025
Nights on some high ledge, sheltered with rocks and set in the pale glimmer of snow-fields, with a fire of brushwood lighting up the faces of well-loved comrades; half hours passed in rock chimneys wedged overhead by a boulder, or in snow-gullies beneath a bulge of ice, when one man struggled above, out of sight, and the rest of the party crouched below with what security it might waiting for the cheery cry, "Es geht.
I was distinctly uncomfortable as, alone this time, I climbed to the tower staircase. Reasoning from before, she would probably throw a chair at me. I stopped at the foot of the staircase and called. "Hello up there," I said, in as debonair a manner as I could summon. "Good morning. Wie geht es bei ihen?" No reply. "Bon jour, mademoiselle," I tried again.
"SHLOFFEMSCHWIEGEL!" bursts out the dreadful bootmaker. "Mein Gott, mein Gott! das geht nicht! I tell you, sare, it is no go. Miss Crotty is my niece. I vill go down myself. I vill never let her marry dat goot-for-nothing schwindler and tief." SUCH was the language that the scoundrel ventured to use regarding me! Was there ever such confounded ill-luck?
Indeed the whole scene between Thekla and Lady Neubrunn might, perhaps, have been omitted without injury to the play. These four lines are expressed in the original with exquisite felicity: Am Himmel ist geschaeftige Bewegung. Des Thurmes Fahne jagt der Wind, schnell geht Der Wolken Zug, die Mondessichel wankt Und durch die Nacht zuckt ungewisse Helle.
"Wie geht es? Don't pretend you can't make out my German. He is trying to let on he is not a Dutchman," observed Whispering Smith to McCloud. "You wouldn't believe it, but I can remember when Farrell wore wooden shoes and lighted his pipe with a candle. He sleeps under a feather-bed yet. Du Sang is in town, Farrell."
With a sly glance at Shirley, he added, "Your niece has been coaching me in metaphysics." Shirley shook her finger at him. "Now Jefferson, if you make fun of me I'll never talk seriously with you again." "Wie geht es, meine damen?" Shirley turned on hearing the guttural salutation.
He wore union overalls that were tan where they were not grease-black; a faded blue cotton shirt; and the crown of a derby, with the rim not too neatly hacked off with a dull toad-stabber jack-knife. Milt smiled at his assistant, Ben Sittka, and suggested, "Well, wie geht 's mit the work, eh? Like to stay and get the prof's flivver out, so he can have it in the morning?" "You bet, boss."
Carlyle went on, however, like Thor, at the Diamond Necklace, which is a proem to the French Revolution, but inly growling, "My own private impression is that I shall never get any promotion in this world." "A prophet is not readily acknowledged in his own country"; "Mein Leben geht sehr uebel: all dim, misty, squally, disheartening at times, almost heartbreaking."
Another, a Nieder-Rheinischer, watches the moon rise over the Lowenburg, and thinks upon his love within the castle hall, till he breaks out in a strange, sad, tender melody not without stateliness and manly confidence in himself and in his beloved in the true strain of the nightingale: 'Verstohlen geht der Mond auf, Blau, blau, Blumelein, Durch Silberwolkchen fuhrt sein Lauf.
Im ganzen haltet euch an Worte, So geht euch durch die sichere Pforte Zum Tempel der Gewissheit ein. Yet reflection might have shown you that the word of the master held no objective account of the nature and origin of beauty, but was the vague expression of his highly complex emotions.
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