Mark Twain - The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg and Other Stories

S. (Aside.) Good soul! she doesn't suspect that my plan is a double scheme—includes a speaking knowledge of German, which I am bound they shall have, and the keeping them away from those two young fellows—though if I had known that those boys were going off for a year's foreign travel, I—however, the girls would never learn that language at home; they're here, and I won't relent—they've got to stick the three months out. (Aloud.) So they are making poor progress? Now tell me—will they learn it—after a sort of fashion, I mean—in three months?

WIRTHIN. Well, now, I'll tell you the only chance I see. Do what I will, they won't answer my German with anything but English; if that goes on, they'll stand stock-still. Now I'm willing to do this: I'll straighten everything up, get matters in smooth running order, and day after to-morrow I'll go to bed sick, and stay sick three weeks.

S. Good! You are an angel? I see your idea. The servant girl—

WIRTHIN. That's it; that's my project. She doesn't know a word of English. And Gretchen's a real good soul, and can talk the slates off a roof. Her tongue's just a flutter-mill. I'll keep my room—just ailing a little—and they'll never see my face except when they pay their little duty-visits to me, and then I'll say English disorders my mind. They'll be shut up with Gretchen's windmill, and she'll just grind them to powder. Oh, they'll get a start in the language—sort of a one, sure's you live. You come back in three weeks.

S. Bless you, my Retterin! I'll be here to the day! Get ye to your sick-room—you shall have treble pay. (Looking at watch.) Good! I can just catch my train. Leben Sie wohl! (Exit.)

WIRTHIN. Leben Sie wohl! mein Herr!

Time, a couple of days later. The girls discovered with their work and primers.

ANNIE. Was fehlt der Wirthin?

MARGARET. Das weiss ich nicht. Sie ist schon vor zwei Tagen ins Bett gegangen—

A. My! how fliessend you speak!

M. Danke schon—und sagte dass sie nicht wohl sei.

A. Good? Oh no, I don't mean that! no—only lucky for us—glucklich, you know I mean because it'll be so much nicer to have them all to ourselves.

M. Oh, naturlich! Ja! Dass ziehe ich durchaus vor. Do you believe your Meisterschaft will stay with you, Annie?

A. Well, I know it is with me—every last sentence of it; and a couple of hods of Ollendorff, too, for emergencies. Maybe they'll refuse to deliver—right off—at first, you know—der Verlegenheit wegen—aber ich will sie spater herausholen—when I get my hand in—und vergisst Du das nicht!

M. Sei nicht grob, Liebste. What shall we talk about first—when they come?

A. Well—let me see. There's shopping—and—all that about the trains, you know—and going to church—and—buying tickets to London, and Berlin, and all around—and all that subjunctive stuff about the battle in Afghanistan, and where the American was said to be born, and so on—and—and ah—oh, there's so many things—I don't think a body can choose beforehand, because you know the circumstances and the atmosphere always have so much to do in directing a conversation, especially a German conversation, which is only a kind of an insurrection, anyway. I believe it's best to just depend on Prov—(Glancing at watch, and gasping.)—half-past—seven!

M. Oh, dear, I'm all of a tremble! Let's get something ready, Annie! (Both fall nervously to reciting): Entschuldigen Sie, mein Herr, konnen Sie mir vielleicht sagen wie ich nach dem norddeutschen Bahnhof gehe? (They repeat it several times, losing their grip and mixing it all up.)

BOTH. Herein! Oh, dear! O der heilige—

Enter GRETCHEN.

GRETCHEN (Ruffled and indignant.) Entschuldigen Sie, meine gnadigsten Fraulein, es sind zwei junge rasende Herren draussen, die herein wollen, aber ich habe ihnen geschworen dass—(Handing the cards.)

M. Due liebe Zeit, they're here! And of course down goes my back hair! Stay and receive them, dear, while I—(Leaving.)

A. I—alone? I won't! I'll go with you! (To GR.) Lassen Sie die Herren naher treten; und sagen Sie ihnen dass wir gleich zuruckkommen werden. (Exit.)

GR. (Solus.) Was! Sie freuen sich daruber? Und ich sollte wirklich diese Blodsinnigen, dies grobe Rindvieh hereinlassen? In den hulflosen Umstanden meiner gnadigen jungen Damen?—Unsinn! (Pause—thinking.) Wohlan! Ich werde sie mal beschutzen! Sollte man nicht glauben, dass sie einen Sparren zu viel hatten? (Tapping her skull significantly.) Was sie mir doch Alles gesagt haben! Der Eine: Guten Morgen! wie geht es Ihrem Herrn Schwiegervater? Du liebe Zeit! Wie sollte ich einen Schwiegervater haben konnen! Und der Andere: 'Es thut mir sehr leid dass Ihrer Herr Vater meinen Bruder nicht gesehen hat, als er doch gestern in dem Laden des deutschen Kaufmannes war!' Potztausendhimmelsdonnerwetter! Oh, ich war ganz rasend! Wie ich aber rief: 'Meine Herren, ich kenne Sie nicht, und Sie kennen meinen Vater nicht, wissen Sie, denn er ist schon lange durchgebrannt, und geht nicht beim Tage in einen Laden hinein, wissen Sie—und ich habe keinen Schwiegervater, Gott sei Dank, werde auch nie einen kriegen, werde uberhaupt, wissen Sie, ein solches Ding nie haben, nie dulden, nie ausstehen: warum greifen Sie ein Madchen an, das nur Unschuld kennt, das Ihnen nie Etwas zu Leide gethan hat?' Dann haben sie sich beide die Finger in die Ohren gesteckt und gebetet: 'Allmachtiger Gott! Erbarme Dich unser?' (Pauses.) Nun, ich werde schon diesen Schurken Einlass gonnen, aber ich werde ein Auge mit ihnen haben, damit sie sich nicht wie reine Teufel geberden sollen. (Exit, grumbling and shaking her head.)

Enter WILLIAM and GEORGE.

W. My land, what a girl! and what an incredible gift of gabble!—kind of patent climate-proof compensation-balance self-acting automatic Meisterschaft—touch her button, and br-r-r! away she goes!

GEO. Never heard anything like it; tongue journalled on ball-bearings! I wonder what she said; seemed to be swearing, mainly.

W. (After mumbling Meisterschaft a while.) Look here, George, this is awful—come to think—this project: we can't talk this frantic language.

GEO. I know it, Will, and it is awful; but I can't live without seeing Margaret—I've endured it as long as I can. I should die if I tried to hold out longer—and even German is preferable to death.

W. (Hesitatingly.) Well, I don't know; it's a matter of opinion.

GEO. (Irritably.) It isn't a matter of opinion either. German is preferable to death.

W. (Reflectively.) Well, I don't know—the problem is so sudden—but I think you may be right: some kinds of death. It is more than likely that a slow, lingering—well, now, there in Canada in the early times a couple of centuries ago, the Indians would take a missionary and skin him, and get some hot ashes and boiling water and one thing and another, and by-and-by that missionary—well, yes, I can see that, by-and-by, talking German could be a pleasant change for him.

GEO. Why, of course. Das versteht sich; but you have to always think a thing out, or you're not satisfied. But let's not go to bothering about thinking out this present business; we're here, we're in for it; you are as moribund to see Annie as I am to see Margaret; you know the terms: we've got to speak German. Now stop your mooning and get at your Meisterschaft; we've got nothing else in the world.

W. Do you think that'll see us through?

GEO. Why it's got to. Suppose we wandered out of it and took a chance at the language on our own responsibility, where the nation would we be! Up a stump, that's where. Our only safety is in sticking like wax to the text.

W. But what can we talk about?

GEO. Why, anything that Meisterschaft talks about. It ain't our affair.

W. I know; but Meisterschaft talks about everything.