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Updated: May 10, 2025
I will reproduce the contents of this story, as far as it touches our problems, as closely as possible in the words of Mundt, although this story, which is contained in the collection mentioned under the separate title of "Lebensmagie, Wirklichkeit und Traum," hardly possesses an artistic value.
I've heard it, I know somewhere; but no, I can't remember. I try I try to follow the air but no use. And then, presently, one of the notes whispers into my puckering lips a single word "Mariechen." Then other notes whisper others "du süsses Viehchen"; and then others still others "du bist mein alles, bist mein Traum."
When, at the end of the second act, and after frantic recalls from the audience, I left the orchestra in a great state of excitement, Hiller, who was waiting for me in the passage, took the opportunity of adding to his very hasty congratulations, 'Do give my Traum once more! I promised him laughingly to do this if I had the chance, but I cannot remember whether it came off or not.
After this point, Peter could see or hear nothing further, and for a very good reason Kleiner Traum had vanished with his kaleidoscope. Kleiner Traum Visits David Morgridge. It is no secret whither Kleiner Traum vanished. The moment he had left little Peter Mit, he was sitting on David Morgridge's breast, kaleidoscope in hand. One shake of the kaleidoscope. Really, Mr.
Paifer proposed, as early as 1814, arrangements for producing rain by firing cannon and exploding shells in the air. Ein wunderbarer Traum die Frucht, barkeit durch willkurlichen Regen zu befordern, Metz, 1814. Resistance to Great Natural Forces.
Having been misdirected at an unlucky turn in a wood where two roads branched off from one another, we found ourselves, after an hour's toil, further from Golden Traum than ever, and were forced, not to retrace our steps, but to make our way as we best could, across the country, in order to reach it.
Seeing, therefore, that Golden Traum wore a singularly modest air, we resumed, on entering it, our proper lineage, and never laid it aside again till we reached home. Now, there happened to be in the village a bouerman, who had served under Blucher at Waterloo, and had seen, during the period of the occupation of Paris, a good deal of the English army.
From Golden Traum to Hernhut, we were recommended to pass by way of Marklissa and Bernstadt, the former a manufacturing place of some note in Prussian Silesia, the latter one of the frontier-towns of Saxony. We followed those directions faithfully, and erring only once, to be put right again immediately by a very civil woman, we soon left our last night's quarters far behind.
"Play something," he pleaded, and with a smile Miriam stepped to the piano. "Do you know 'Es war ein Traum'?" she inquired. "No," said he. "That's lovely," put in Wheeler. "Sing it!" Eugene had thought that possibly she sang, but he was not prepared for the burst of color that came with her voice. It was not a great voice, but sweet and sympathetic, equal to the tasks she set herself.
But we could not bear the thought of it, and clung to him, and pleaded with him to stay; and that pleased him, and he said so, and said he would not go yet, but would wait a little while and we would sit down and talk a few minutes longer; and he told us Satan was only his real name, and he was to be known by it to us alone, but he had chosen another one to be called by in the presence of others; just a common one, such as people have Philip Traum.
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