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Updated: May 6, 2025
At any rate, the enterprise would have to be abandoned. It was then that the bare, bright little dining room, with its queer prints of chin-chucking lieutenants, and its queerer faces, and its German cookery became very dear to me. I had grown to like Frau Knapf, of the shining cheek bones, and Herr Knapf, of the heavy geniality.
Promise me you'll write the unhappy ones too though the saints forbid that there should be any to write! And Dawn, don't you dare to forget your heavy underwear in November. Those lake breezes! Well, some one has to tell you, and I can't leave those to Von Gerhard. He has promised to act as monitor over your health." And so I promised. I crammed my letters with descriptions of the Knapf household.
Today comes Frau Nirlanger by me and she says: 'Frau Knapf, I wish to buy clothes, aber echt Amerikanische. Myself, I do not know what is modish, and I cannot go alone to buy." "That's a grand idea," said I, recalling the gray basque and the cannon-ball beads. "Ja, sure it is," agreed Frau Knapf.
And she had kissed Bennie good-by with the knowledge that the little blue-painted bed, with its faded red roses, would again stand empty in the gloom of the Knapf attic. Norberg glanced up quickly as I entered the city room. "Get something good on that south side story?" he asked. "Why, no," I answered. "You were mistaken about that. The the nice old maid is not going to move, after all."
Consternation has corrugated the brows of the aborigines. Consternation twice confounded had added a wrinkle or two to my collection. We are homeless. That is, we are Knapfless we, to whom the Knapfs spelled home. Herr Knapf, mustache aquiver, and Frau Knapf, cheek bones glistening, broke the news to us one evening just a week after the exciting day which so changed Bennie's life.
The slender, graceful figure disappeared with a gay little laugh, and I flew downstairs for Frau Knapf. She was discovered with a spoon in one hand and a spluttering saucepan in the other. I detached her from them, clasped her big, capable red hands and dragged her up the stairs, explaining as I went. "Now don't fuss about that supper! Let 'em wait.
First, she gives up her old life, and her friends and her family for this man, and then she must do all things to keep him. Men, they are but children, after all," spake the wise Frau Knapf in conclusion. "They war and cry and plead for that which they would have, and when they have won, then see! They are amused for a moment, and the new toy is thrown aside."
Then the plump shoulders heaved into the room, disclosing a stout, starched gingham body. "Ich bin Frau Knapf," announced the beaming vision. Now up to this time Frau Knapf had maintained a Mrs. Harris-like mysteriousness.
They applaud their favorite stout, blond, German comedienne as she romps through the acts of a sprightly German comedy, and after the play they go to their favorite Wein-stube around the corner. There they have sardellen and cheese sandwiches and a great deal of beer, and for one charmed evening Frau Knapf forgets all about the insides of geese and the thickening for gravies, and is happy.
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