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Updated: June 25, 2025
He made some halting inquiries of the station people, and a cab-driver outside finally directed him to the place he sought the cottage of the Widow Summermatter, where resided an English intern, one Peter Pienaar. The porter Joseph Zimmer had had a long and roundabout journey. A fortnight before he had worn the uniform of a British major-general.
By this time the sky had cleared, and I recognized Schoenfeld in the moonlight. How often had I eaten bread and drank white wine with Zimmer there at the Golden Sheaf, when the sun shone brightly and the leaves were green around! But those times had passed! Sentries were posted, and a few men went to the village for wood and provisions. I sat against the cemetery wall, and at length fell asleep.
It did not display itself openly; but the citizens, meeting, would shake hands with an air of huge satisfaction, and the general rejoicing glistened even in the eyes of servants and the poorest workmen. Zimmer said: "These Germans seem to be merry about something, they all look so good-natured." "Yes," I replied; "their good humor comes from the fine weather and good harvest."
"But the Emperor is too good. If he were not so good I would not have been in danger of drowning to-day; the sight of my uniform would have made that peasant tremble at the idea of telling me a lie." So spoke Zimmer, and all this yet remains in my memory. It happened August 12, 1813. Returning to Leipzig, we saw joy painted on the countenances of the inhabitants.
I hoped no more from these than from the others, when suddenly I perceived a tall, lean, red-bearded veteran mounted beside one of the pieces, and bearing the cross upon his breast. It was my old friend Zimmer, my old comrade of Leipzig. He was passing without seeing me, when I cried, with all the strength that remained to me: "Christian! Christian!"
I recognized the road which Zimmer and I had traversed so often in July, when the ground was covered with flowers. The enemy fired on us, but we did not reply. I entered the water first; Captain Vidal next, then the others, two abreast. It reached our shoulders, for the river was swollen by the autumn rains; but we crossed, notwithstanding, without the loss of a man.
"Slissell," repeated Jenny. "Schlüss " "Sliss " Poons gave up trying and went back to his book, reading the following with deep-bated breath and loving emphasis. "Vich -iss to der hotel die vay?" Jenny's reply came with business-like rapidity. "Der pantoffle ist in die zimmer " "Puntoffel," corrected Poons. "Pantoffle," responded his pupil. "Tsimmer," said he.
No wonder you turn pale, Miss Vance. Soap! He is the silent partner in the firm of Woertz und Zimmer, and it is not a paying business either." Jean did not wait for an answer, but walked up and down the room, laughing angrily to herself. "Yes, soap! He cannot sneer at Lucy's ancestral saddles, now. Nor my father's saws!
But I keep a light burning in the 'dobe house and make it look as if I were there." "Good. That worried me. Now, what's this murder of Jim Hoden going to do to Morton, Zimmer, and their crowd?" "Russ, they've all got blood in their eyes. This'll make them see red. I've only to say the word and we'll have all the backing we need." "Have you run into Blome?" "Once. I was across the street.
The day after we got this important news there was a general inspection, and twelve hundred of the wounded of Lutzen were ordered to rejoin their corps. They went by companies with arms and baggage, some following the road to Altenbourg, which runs along the Elster, and some the road to Wurtzen, farther to the left. Zimmer was of the number, having himself asked leave to go.
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