Old Jochem often brings his money to me, and makes me count it for him, piece by piece. He maintains that one is so often cheated in money matters.
My little pitchman told me that the peasants almost always treat their aged parents who have given up their property to them, with great unkindness, and then he asked me: "Why must Jochem live so long? He has nothing in the world but hatred and mistrust." I know no answer.
Old Jochem is a veritable peasant Lear, but as he is able to complain at the court of justice, and has actually done so, his case is not pure tragedy.
But there is no court of justice at which a king can complain; nor does he desire one; and hence his fate is great and tragic.
My friend, call me when thou standest in judgment upon thyself. I am the only one who dare accuse thee, and yet I accuse not thee, but myself. And I am expiating my guilt.
The open hearth-fire affords me many happy moments. How beautiful a fire is! What are all jewels, compared with it? Poor old Jochem cannot see the fire. It is the most beautiful thing in every house-- Men should be fire-worshipers.
"You've had good thoughts," said Hansei to me, when I was sitting by the open window to-day. "I could tell it by your looks."
He evidently longed to put a question to me, but he is determined to keep his resolution. He never asks me anything and, to avoid doing so often changes the form of his sentences. I told him my thoughts, and his manner seemed to imply: "It isn't worth while to think of such things."