a fine view. He was quite happy when I
told him of this.
*
Hansei was at the capital. On his return, he unwrapped a large parcel
and, with conscious pride, showed us what sensible presents he had
bought. They were the pictures of the king and queen.
In his kindness of heart, he offered to let me hang up the pictures in
my room, and was quite provoked to find that his wife wanted to keep
them for herself. I satisfied him at last by saying: "The sitting-room
belongs to us all."
But the pictures seemed to be looking at me constantly, and made it
unpleasant for me to remain in the room. Walpurga noticed this and, to
my great relief, removed them to her bedroom. Hansei does not take
notice of such matters.
The king's portrait represents him in the dress of a citizen. Is it a
sign that--?
*
Hansei at last reveals his plan. It is quite a clever stroke of his to
begin by cutting roads through the forest, so that the beams can be
brought down from far up the mountain, and thus fetch him thrice as
much money as if they were cut into smaller logs.
*
(April 3d.)--At first, there is so much to observe. The whole world
seems like a young child, or like the first verdure of spring. Later,
one grows accustomed to it all, and it seems as if things were always
and everywhere alike. It seems to me that life would be insupportable,
if the world were ever new and left us no repose.
Habit, our second mother, is a good mother, too.
*
They have fastened a rope to the feet of my white foal, so that it
cannot run away. It can now only move about slowly. The freedom and
grace of its movements are gone, even before it is put in harness.
Oh, how many human beings have a like fate!
*
I love to watch the rain calmly descending upon the earth. If I were
not obliged to work, I could remain by my window for hours, lost in
reverie and looking out and listening, for it seems to me as if I were
endowed with a million eyes and could see every drop as it falls on the
half-open buds. But here, we are all constantly at work. I am ashamed
to sit here with my hands in my lap. The rain in springtime is soft and
beautiful, lending voice, form and substance to the air, and to every
tiny rill.
*
Formerly, I always requi
|