agatelle, each
trifling incident that crossed or vanished from my path impress me.

If one only had just a little to eat on such a lightsome day! The sense
of the glad morning overwhelmed me; my satisfaction became
ill-regulated, and for no definite reason I began to hum joyfully.

At a butcher's stall a woman stood speculating on sausage for dinner.
As I passed her she looked up at me. She had but one tooth in the front
of her head. I had become so nervous and easily affected in the last
few days that the woman's face made a loathsome impression upon me. The
long yellow snag looked like a little finger pointing out of her gum,
and her gaze was still full of sausage as she turned it upon me. I
immediately lost all appetite, and a feeling of nausea came over me.
When I reached the market-place I went to the fountain and drank a
little. I looked up; the dial marked ten on Our Saviour's tower.

I went on through the streets, listlessly, without troubling myself
about anything at all, stopped aimlessly at a corner, turned off into a
side street without having any errand there. I simply let myself go,
wandered about in the pleasant morning, swinging myself care-free to
and fro amongst other happy human beings. This air was clear and bright
and my mind too was without a shadow.

For quite ten minutes I had had an old lame man ahead of me. He carried
a bundle in one hand and exerted his whole body, using all his strength
in his endeavours to get along speedily. I could hear how he panted
from the exertion, and it occurred to me that I might offer to bear his
bundle for him, but yet I made no effort to overtake him. Up in
Graendsen I met Hans Pauli, who nodded and hurried past me. Why was he
in such a hurry? I had not the slightest intention of asking him for a
shilling, and, more than that, I intended at the very first opportunity
to return him a blanket which I had borrowed from him some weeks before.

Just wait until I could get my foot on the ladder, I would be beholden
to no man, not even for a blanket. Perhaps even this very day I might
commence an article on the "Crimes of Futurity," "Freedom of Will," or
what not, at any rate, something worth reading, something for which I
would at least get ten shillings.... And at the thought of this article
I felt myself fired with a desire to set to work immediately and to
draw from the contents of my overflowing brain. I would find a suitable
place to write in the park and not