The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 11 / Masterpieces of German Literature Translated Into English

by Unknown

Here, however, Uncle Grünebaum's beneficial influence stepped in. Hans often visited his uncle in the latter's untidy workshop where he only did enough work to earn a scanty living for himself and his birds and to pay for the Post Courier which provided him with political reading. It was particularly interesting just at that time because the Greek struggle for independence against the Turks was raging and our cobbler, like Auntie Schlotterbeck, was an enthusiastic Philhellenist. He called Hans to account and tried to make it clear to him that he and his school-fellows would drive their consumptive master into his grave by their behavior and that it was no laughing matter to have a murder on one's conscience. He advised Hans to be careful that the devil did not take him, together with the other rogues, because of his conduct.

Such conversation had its effect. Hans did not take part in the next conspiracy, and did not regret the pummeling he received from the other boys on that account, for the next morning the teacher did not appear at school in consequence of a hemorrhage. Not long after he died. Uncle Grünebaum and Auntie Schlotterbeck were kind to him during his last illness, and Hans with Auntie Schlotterbeck stood beside the bed of the dying man. The exhausted man spoke of the bitterness of his life, but Auntie Schlotterbeck understood little and Hans nothing of what he said. He talked of how he had been hungry for love and thirsty for knowledge and of how everything else had been as nothing; of how he had lived in the shade and yet had been born for the light; of how shining, golden fruit had fallen all around him, while his hands were bound. Nothing had fallen to his share but his yearning, and that too was coming to an end. He would be satisfied—in death.

Much as Hans had felt the solemn shudder of death, on the day after the funeral, which had been attended by the whole charity school, he was already playing again merrily in the street. Snow had fallen in the night and a mighty snowman was built in Kröppel Street. When he was finished and the boys were playing together, Moses Freudenstein, the junk-dealer's son, happened to get into the crowd. They formed a ring about him and made him hold out his hand to each in turn and every young Christian spit into it with a shout of scorn. Up to that hour Hans had howled with the wolves in such things too, but now it flashed through him in an instant that something very low and cowardly was being done. He did not spit into Moses' hand, but struck it away and, turning protector, started to do battle for the Jewish boy. A fearful fight ensued, the end of which was that Hans and Moses, dizzy, bruised, with bleeding mouths and swollen eyes, rolled down into the shop of the junk-dealer, Samuel Freudenstein. This hour had an incalculable influence on Hans Unwirrsch's life, for he rolled out of the street battle into relations which were to be infinitely important for him.

Samuel Freudenstein had seen more of the world than all the other Neustädians together. After extensive commercial journeys, especially in Southeastern Europe, he had settled in Neustadt and begun to trade in second-hand goods and junk, as heavy losses in a speculation prevented his embarking on a greater enterprise. He got on, and married, but his wife died at the birth of their son in 1819, on the very day when Hans Unwirrsch, too, was born. Samuel Freudenstein brought up his son in his own way, which in many respects differed widely from the curriculum of the charity school.

Samuel thanked Hans for the protection he had given Moses, and Hans' mother and Uncle Grünebaum allowed him to continue his visits to the Jew's house. Hans now discovered so many wonders in the gloom of the junkshop that for the first time his life seemed to be filled with real substance. At the same time he mounted a rung higher on the ladder of knowledge by entering the lowest class of the grammar school. On this occasion Uncle Grünebaum did not fail to make one of his finest and longest speeches and to present Hans with his first pair of high boots.

Now, too, for the first time Hans entered into a more intimate relation with the other sex. He found his first love, Sophie, the daughter of an apple-woman. With her cat, Sophie sat in her mother's booth opposite the school, sold her fruit with seriousness and had difficulty, on her way home, in defending herself and her cat from the rough schoolboys. Hans lent her his protection and he and Moses kept up a friendly intercourse with her through the spring and summer. But in the course of the winter one of the diseases of childhood carried her off, and her companion, the cat, did not long outlive her. The death of little Sophie and the cat made a deep impression on Hans. He did not become friends with any other girl at present; but from now on the second-hand shop gained an ever greater influence over him.

In this enchanted cave Hans saw the father, Samuel, going about, like a magician, with brush and glue-pot, stuffing birds and quadrupeds, collecting curious goblets and tankards, buying up odd portraits of other people's ancestors. He listened attentively when father and son talked of the history of their race, he lost himself completely in old Dutch descriptions of travel, with their copperplates, one day he even saw a real ostrich-egg. Moses was far ahead of Hans in all branches of knowledge. Samuel Freudenstein had taught his son that knowledge and money were the two most effective means of power and now they were both indefatigable, the son in acquiring the former, the father in accumulating the latter. Things were well classified in Moses' head, he could find what he wanted there, any minute;—he had never been a child, a real, true, natural child.

Hans Unwirrsch, on the other hand, remained a real child. His imagination still retained its dominion over his reason; the circle in which he stood, like any other human child, now expanded and became filled with ever gayer, brighter, more enticing figures, scenes and dreams.

One evening Hans came meditatively out of the darkness of the junkshop, hurried across to his mother's house and there, in answer to Auntie Schlotterbeck's questions, blurted out that Moses was going to learn Latin and go to the "Gymnasium" while he should have to be a cobbler and stay a cobbler all his life. Unfortunately for Hans these words were overheard by Uncle Grünebaum, who happened to be present and whom Hans had not noticed. There followed a dangerous scene. First Auntie Schlotterbeck had to protect Hans so that his indignant relative, as uncle, godfather, guardian, and master of the laudable trade of shoemaking, did not half kill him but merely squeezed him between his knees and talked urgently to him till Hans, yielding to the double pressure, declared himself to be in thorough agreement with his uncle's views. Then Auntie Schlotterbeck changed from defence to attack. She read Uncle Grünebaum a lecture on his own conduct, reminding him that he was not looked up to anywhere but on the bench behind his mug of beer in the "Red Ram," that he neglected his house and trade and was indeed no shining example of what the trade of shoemaking turned out. When she finally threatened to call Frau Christine to her aid the doughty cobbler speedily took a flight.