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Updated: June 20, 2025
"How old are you?" asked Helen. "Sechs yahre," was the shy answer. "Such a big girl for six!" "So grosse! So grosse!" The little thing measured her height by touching her forehead. "Shump down," admonished the mother stolidly, while Helen bent over the child, wasting upon her the most wonderful smile of the everlasting years.
I opened the Buch der Lieder at the poem in his preface the song of the sphinx in the enchanted wood ... and how it clutched the seeker, the poet, to its monstrous but voluptuous woman's breasts as it ravished his soul with kisses. And the nightingale was singing.... "O, shöne Sphinx, O löse mir Das Rätsel, das wunderbare! Ich hab' darüber nachgedacht Schon manche tausand Yahre."
She wondered whether the woman would let her slip a bill into her hand. "Maybe," said Anna impassively. "How shall you like keeping house for a man and wife?" Billy pursued. "Aye do that bayfore," remarked Anna, responsive to this kindly interest; "aye ban hahr savan yahre, now, en des country." "And do you like Miss Clay's young man?" Billy said boldly.
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