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Updated: June 4, 2025
The Steins now inhabit a great house on Fifth Avenue that used to belong to people of a very different sort. To old New-Yorkers, it's an historic house." Kitty laughed, and sat down on the end of her couch nearest her guest; sat upright, without cushions. "I imagine I know more about that house than you do. Let me tell you how I made the sequel to your story. "It has to do with Peppo Amoretti.
But for a sort of tinselled ostentation the place might well have been the Marlianne's that he had just left it was crowded and riot was at its height; a stringed orchestra in Hungarian costume played what purported to be Hungarian airs; shouts, laughter, clatter of dishes, and thump of steins added to the din.
It was the first time she had been on the water, and she felt as if she were embarking for France. The light warm breeze and the plunge of the waves made her very wide awake, and she liked crowds of any kind. They went to the balcony of a big, noisy restaurant and had a shore dinner, with tall steins of beer.
The socialists could not have emptied the cellar any quicker had there been a fire. Gretchen alone remained. It was her duty to carry the steins up to the bar. The officer, rather thorough for his kind, studied the floor under the window. He found a cutting from a newspaper. This interested him. "Do you know who this fellow was?" with a jerk of his head toward the window.
He had timed this to a nicety, hoping to arrive just after the greetings were over and before the game had begun, and he accomplished that purpose; for, with the well-thumbed cards lying between them and three half-emptied steins of beer on the table, Ersten was opposite a pink-faced man with curly gray hair, whose clothes sat upon his slightly portly person with fashion-plate precision.
The big hall with its smoky rafters, rows of imported steins, portrait of Goethe, and verses painted on the walls translated into German from the original of the Cincinnati poets seems atmospherically correct when viewed through the bottom of a glass. But not long ago the proprietors added the room above, called it the Little Rheinschloss, and built in a stairway.
I am willing to fight to the last drop of ink against any attempt to bring back "fine writing" and ornate rhetoric into prose. "Expression is the dress of thought," and plain thinking and plain facts look best in simple clothing. There will be reaction, explosion, revolution. The public will get its flat prose, and in addition not one, but a hundred Gertrude Steins.
The steins clicked crisply in Gretchen's arms; one of them fell and broke at her feet. Gretchen, troubled in heart and mind over the strange event of the night, walked slowly home, her head inclined, her arms swinging listlessly at her side. A spy, this man to whom she had joyously given the flower of her heart and soul? There was some mistake; there must be some mistake.
"That is grand, isn't it?" said March, following one of the tremendous strokes by which she overcame her physical disadvantages. "It's fine to see how her art can undo, for one splendid instant, the work of all those steins of beer, those illimitable licks of sausage, those boundless fields of cabbage. But it's rather pathetic."
The shelf that ran around the dining room wall on a level with your head was filled with steins in such shapes and colours as would have curdled their contents if they had ever had any contents. They planned to read a good deal, evenings. Improve their minds. It was Ray's idea, but Cora seconded it heartily. This was before their marriage. "Now, take history alone," Ray argued: "American history.
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