When Braesig had opened his budget of news from Rexow and Gurlitz, and
the Frau Pastorin and Habermann had no more questions to ask, he took
flight again.
"You won't take it unkindly, Frau Pastorin, or you either, Karl, but as
soon as I can change my boots I must go to the Reform. You ought to
come with me, Karl, we are going to elect a new president to-day,
because the old one, as he says, can't stand it any longer. I shall
vote for the advocate Rein,--do you know him? A capital man, a
thoroughly good fellow,--but he makes jokes, to be sure; and then we
have a very important question for discussion, to-day,--Rector Baldrian
says it is demanded by the spirit of the times,--we are going to find
out how there comes to be such great poverty in the world. You ought to
come with me, Karl."
But Karl would not go, and Braesig went alone.
The first person upon whom his eyes fell, as he entered the hall of the
Reformverein, was--Zamel Pomuchelskopp, who, as he perceived Braesig,
came right up to him, saying, "Good-evening, dear brother, how are you,
dear Zachary?"
There were not many who observed how Braesig received this salutation,
and those who saw it did not comprehend it clearly; but shoemaker Bank
had seen it, and told me about it. "Fritz," said he, "see here, if you
should look at the Herr Inspector's face in a shoemaker's glass, he
looked like that; the mouth was so broad, and the nose so thick, and
his whole face looked like fire and fat, and as he put out one foot
before him and said, 'Herr Zamwell Pomuchelskopp, I am no brother of
yours,' do you know what he looked like? Exactly like the old Sandwirth
Hofer, of Tyrol, when he is to be hung on the wall by Landlord Voss, at
Ivenach, only that he had no musket in his hand. And then he turned his
back to him, and such a back! and went up to the election-table, and
gave his vote for the new president, and said aloud, through the hall,
'I vote for the Herr Advocate Rein, for our business must be pure
(rein), and if any dirty fellows come in here they must be turned out.'
No body understood what he meant; but they were all still as mice, for
they knew something had happened; and as he went through the hall they
all made room for him, for he looked like a mad bull; but he seated
himself quietly at the other end of the hall, and all the members of
the Reformverein know what happened afterwards."
This is what Hanne Bank told me, and I believe him, for he was a good
friend of mine, and an honest man, although he was only a shoemaker; he
was sent to a bloody grave, in his best years, by a good-for-nothing
scoundrel, because he stood up for the right, and although it may be
out of place here, I will write it, that the memory of such an honest
man and good friend may be honored elsewhere than on his tombstone.
So Zachary Braesig seated himself at the farther end of the hall, and
sat there like a thunder-storm, ready at any moment to break loose. The
advocate Rein was made president, he touched the bell, crawled into the
cask, and returned thanks for the honor, and finally said,--
"Gentlemen, before we begin our discussion of the poverty-question, I
have the pleasure to announce to you that the Herr Proprietor of
Gurlitz proposes himself as a member of our Reformverein. I believe
there is no one who will oppose his admission."
"So?" cried a terribly spiteful voice behind him, "are you so sure of
that? I beg for a word or two," and as the new president turned round,
there stood Uncle Braesig, by the cooling-vat.
"Herr Inspector Braesig has the floor," said the president, and Uncle
Braesig stuffed himself into the cooling-vat.
"Fellow-citizens," he began, "how long is it, since we declared for
Liberty, Equality and Fraternity here at Grammelin's? I will say
nothing about Liberty, although I cannot stir my body in this
confounded cask; nor will I speak of Equality, for our new president
gives us a good example of that, since he always goes about in a gray
coat, and not, like certain people, in a blue dress-coat with gilt
buttons; but I wish to speak of Fraternity. Fellow-citizens! I ask you,
is that Fraternity, when a man wants to pull off his brother's boots?
and when a man will let his fellow-creature run about in the snow, like
a crow, or if the snow is gone, in the mud? and a man boasts himself
against another, and makes game of him? I ask you, is that Fraternity?
and I tell you Herr Zamwell is such a brother as that. And I have
nothing more to say."
He came down from the speaker's stand, and blew his nose, as if he were
sounding a trumpet over his speech.
Tailor Wimmersdorf then took the floor, and said the Rahnstadt Reform
must consider it a great honor to have a proprietor among them; so far
as he knew, it was the only one, for the Herr von Zanzel, although he
owned an estate, and was a member, was not to be counted, for he made
no purchases in Rahnstadt, and had nothing to do with them. He voted
for the Herr Proprietor.
"Bravo!" resounded through the hall. "Wimmersdorf is right! Neighbor,
you are right! How shall we live, if we don't keep on good terms with
such people?"
"That is not my opinion," said Schultz, the carpenter, creeping softly
up into the cask, like a fat snail, out of its shell, and he looked
like one, for all the world. "Stuff and nonsense, tailor Wimmersdorf,
stuff and nonsense! Did the Gurlitz potentate trouble himself about us,
did he pay up our bills, before he needed us? Why does he stand here in
the hall, when his admission has been opposed? Hasn't he modesty enough
to go out? But no! And why? Because he is a Great Mogul. I say, out
with him, out!" and the snail crept into its shell again.
"Out! out!" cried several voices, and others cried, "Speak again! Go
on!" and a rascally shoemaker sung out in a clear voice,--
"Snail, snail, come out of your shell!
Stick out your horns, we know you well!"
But Schultz the carpenter would not come, he knew very well that he
should only weaken the impression his speech had made; he preferred to
strengthen it, he stood with Braesig, behind the scenes, and both
called, "Out! out!" and they would certainly have gained their point,
had not the devil pushed forward David and Slusuhr, into the
cooling-vat, each with a moustache, to signify that they were
excessively liberal. They sung Pomuchelskopp's praises with psaltery
and harp; he was a helpful angel, said Slusuhr,--"Yes, a fat angel,"
cried that rogue of a shoemaker,--he had helped many a poor family here
in Rahnstadt,--he said nothing about the ten per cent. interest,--and
he would do much more for the city. David began the same song, a little
colored with saffron and spiced with garlic. "Gentlemen!" said he,
making a low bow to the roguish shoemaker, who received it very
quietly, "bethink yourselves, think of the good of the whole city! In
the first place, there is the Herr Pomuchelskopp himself, in person,
then there is the gracious Frau Pomuchelskopp,--a fearfully clever
woman,--then there are the Fraeuleins Salchen and Malchen, and the Herr
Gustaving and the Herr Nanting and the Herr Philipping, and then come
the Fraeulein Mariechen and the Fraeulein Sophiechen and the Fraeulein
Melaniechen, and then come the little Herr Krischaning and the little
Herr Joching, and then comes the youngest of all,--well, wait a moment,
I am not through yet,--and then come the house-maids, and the
kitchen-maids, and the nurse-maids, and the swine-maids,--and I don't
know how many more,--and then come the coachman and the grooms, and the
herdsmen, and they all want something. Why should they not want
something? Everybody has his wants. And they need coats and they need
trousers, and they need shoes and boots, and they need stockings and
shirts and jackets; and when it is cold they need warm coats, and when
it is warm, they need cool ones, and when Palm Sunday comes, and they
go to be confirmed, they must have nice coats, and on Christmas--good
heavens! I have always said this Christ must have been a great man,
what an amount of business has he introduced into the world by
Christmas! And all these things we make, and sell in our shops. But who
buys them of us? The Herr Pomuchelskopp buys them of us. I have nothing
more to say."
And it was not necessary, for, as he finished his speech, all the
tailors and shoemakers were, in imagination, making boots and shoes and
trousers and jackets for the little Pomuchelskopps, and the shopkeepers
were disposing of their remnants to Muchel, and Kurz had, in
anticipation, sold him half his stock in trade.
But in spite of this, Braesig and the carpenter Schultz still cried,
"Out with him! Out!" and the other side cried; "Let him stay!" "Out
with him!" "Let him stay!" And there was a dreadful uproar. The
material interests represented by the Pomuchelskopp's boots and
trousers, rose up in opposition to the ideal fraternity; it was a hard
fight. At last the bell from the president's desk quieted them
sufficiently for the Herr President Rein to make himself heard.
"Gentlemen," said he--"Out with him!" "Out with him!" "Let him
stay!"--"Gentlemen," he began again, "Thank God!"--"Out! out!" "Let him
stay!"--"Thank God! the opinion of the assembly has expressed itself so
decidedly, that we can proceed to a vote. So; let all those who are in
favor of admission go to the musician's gallery; those who are opposed,
go to the speaker's stand."
The Rahnstadt Reformverein put itself in motion; every one trotted off
as fast as he could, to show his decided opinion, and it sounded, from
a distance, as if a fulling-mill were in full progress at Grammelin's,
and the result of this quiet proceeding was soon manifest, for
Grammelin rushed into the room, crying, "Herr President! Children! I
beg of you go to some other place, or vote in a more quiet way!"
"Eh, what?" said Thiel, the joiner; "we must vote! Else it is no
Reform."
"I know that, Thiel, but you are voting so hard, that the plaster is
all tumbling down from the ceiling."
They perceived by this that they were going a little too fast; and from
that time, they did not attempt to vote with their feet; but only with
their hands.
The votes were counted; Pomuchelskopp was admitted as a regular member
of the Reformverein. Schultz the carpenter turned to Braesig, and asked,
over, his shoulder, "Well, if it comes to this, Herr Inspector, what
will become of Germany?"
"It is all one to me," said Braesig; "but don't talk to me of your
Fraternity!"
Now the poverty-question came upon the carpet, and after the president
had explained the question, the Rahnstadt Reformverein took it up for
discussion: "How poverty came to be in the world, and why it remains
here."
The first who rose was Rector Baldrian. He came up from behind, like
all the rest, into the speaker's stand, but piled up a great heap of
books before him, as high as his shoulders, to create a favourable
opinion of himself, in the minds of the audience. As he had arranged
the Bible and Xenophon, and Plato and Aristotle, and Livy and Tacitus,
and all that he had on hand of Cicero, he made a bow, and said those
were his reserves.
"Gossip," said Johann Bank to the shoemaker, Deichert, "this will be
tedious; we know what he is, come and have a glass of beer."
Then the rector began, and proved first, from the Bible, that in very
old times there was poverty among the Jews.
"That is not so!" cried an eager voice from the crowd, "the confounded
Jews have all the money there is; they know well how a poor man feels."
The rector did not let himself be disturbed, he proved the matter from
the Bible, and then took up Xenophon, and told about the Helots in
Sparta, but the assembly did not seem quite to understand it. Upon
that, he opened Plato, and began on him, that is, on the "Republic,"
and said that if the Rahnstadters had such a state of things as Plato
had planned for the Athenians, every laborer in Rahnstadt could have
roast beef and potatoes for dinner every day, and could ride in a coach
Sunday afternoons, and the children, who now went begging about the
streets, would go with gold chains around their necks, instead of
beggars' sacks.
"Let him tell us more about that!" "Three cheers for Plato!" sounded
through the hall. "Gossip, is that the old Jew-grinder Platow, who is
blind of one eye?"
"Eh, gossip, I knew him well enough; he has bought many a piece of beef
of me," said Kraeuger, the butcher.
The president's bell produced quiet, and that rogue of an advocate Rein
turned to the rector, and begged, in the name of the assembly, that he
would have the kindness to give the Rahnstadt Reformverein a particular
account of the Platonic Republic.
That was a hard request, and the sweat ran down the poor old rector's
face, as he began three times, and three times broke down, for he was
far from having a clear idea of it himself. He finally said, in his
distress, the Platonic Republic was a republic, and what a republic was
his hearers, so well educated in political matters, knew very well.
Well, everybody knew that; and then the rector got off among the
Romans, and told something quite different, how sometimes the old
Romans got hungry, and how they clamored loudly for _panem et
circenses_. "Panem, my dear hearers," said he, "signifies bread, and
circenses, open air plays."
All at once, shoemaker Deichert sprang up on a bench, and cried, "That
is what I say! The old Romans were no fools; and what they did, we
Rahnstadters can do, any day! What? when I and Bokel and Juerendt and
all the others are sitting at Pfeifers, playing vingt-et-un, shall the
burgomeister come and take away our cards, and send us and Gossip
Pfeifer to the Rath-house, and make us pay a fine and costs? What? I
say, like the old Romans, free, open play for all!"
"You are right, there, gossip," cried Juerendt, "three cheers for the
old Romans and the Herr Rector!" And the others echoed: "Hurrah!
hurrah!"
The rector acknowledged the compliment to himself and the Romans by a
bow, and as he noticed that the president glanced frequently at the
clock, he hastened to finish his speech, and concluded with these
words: "My respected hearers, if we consider poverty at the present
time, we shall find that it is only the children of poor people, and of
the mechanics, who go begging in our city." With that he retired,
carrying off his "reserves" under his arm.
He was followed by Johann "Meinswegens." "Gentlemen," said he, "I am,
meinswegens,[11] a dyer," and thereupon he extended his two hands over
the cask with so much emphasis that the whole Reformverein was
astonished,--"I used to go to school to the Herr Rector, and he is
right, we must have a republic, meinswegens Plato's, meinswegens
somebody's else; but what the Herr Rector said about the mechanics,
that is a sin and a shame; I mean, meinswegens, the mechanics and not
the Herr Rector. Gentlemen, I have, meinswegens, travelled into strange
countries as a journeyman mechanic--"
"You sat in the chimney-corner, with your mother," cried a voice from
the crowd.
"What? I have been as far as Birnbaum in Poland, and, meinswegens,
farther still, ever so far! as true as the sky is blue, and on the word
of an honest blue dyer," and he smote on his breast. "And, gentlemen, I
could, meinswegens, keep two journeymen, only that, unfortunately,
indigo is so dear."
"Oh, you rascal! You color with logwood!" cried shoemaker Deichert.
"That is a stupid joke!" cried Johann.
"What, indigo? Hear!" cried several voices, "he colors with logwood!"
"Yes," cried the roguish shoemaker, "one can easily tell the women-folk
that he colors for, they look like tar-barrels, the old logwood gives
such a strong color."
"Young man," asked Johann, in a very superior way, "have you,
meinswegens, ever looked into my dye-tub?"
"You should hold your tongue, when we are talking about poverty; you
are well enough off," cried another.
"Gentlemen, meinswegens, that is a stupid joke! It is true, I have
built myself a new house----"
"Of logwood," cried the shoemaker. "Of logwood!" repeated the others.
"No! no!" cried the dyer, "of fir wood, with oaken beams!"
"Of logwood!" cried the others.
"Gentlemen," began Johann once more, very impressively, raising himself
up, and striking his breast with his blue fist, "I am, meinswegens, a
Rahnstadt burgher, and I have no more to say."
"That is enough!" cried several.
"Then do as you ought!" cried the day-laborers, "down with the
blockhead, he tells us nothing but what we know already."
And Johann "Meinswegens" was obliged to come down from the platform.
Then came Kurz: "Fellow-citizens! We are to discuss poverty, and my
honored predecessor has been speaking of indigo. That is a pretty
business! Why should we poor merchants pay taxes, if every dyer may get
his own indigo, and my honored Herr Predecessor can only do this,
because no one can overlook his cards, and see how much indigo he uses,
and how much logwood!"
"You look at the cards, yourself!" cried a voice behind him,--he looked
round, right into Braesig's face, but was not disconcerted, and went on:
"For he can buy his indigo cheaper of me than even at Rostock. But,
fellow-citizens, about poverty--if it goes on like this, we shall all
become poor."
"He is right there, gossip," said shoemaker Deichert to Johann Bank.
"Fellow-citizens, I purchased myself an express wagon and a horse, to
send home my goods, and also to make a little profit."
"We common people don't care about your little profits!" interrupted
Fritz Siebert, the carrier.
"But," Kurz went on, "what happened? They laid an attachment on my
wagon, last year, at Teterow----"
"Because you had not paid the tax," again interrupted Fritz Siebert.
Kurz did not mind such little interruptions as these, for he had been
turned out once, and he was a persevering character, so he went on:
"Our Herr Burgomeister sent for me, and asked me what sort of a wagon I
sent my goods home in. 'In my own wagon,' I said. 'So, _per se_?' said
he. 'No,' I said, 'not per sea, Rahnstadt is not a seaport; per
land-carriage.' Then he laughed, and said he had expressed himself in
Latin. Fellow-citizens, What are we coming to, when the magistrates
express themselves in Latin, and attachments are levied on horses and
wagons? That is the way to poverty. How shall we merchants live on the
small profits we get on coffee and sugar, tobacco and snuff?"
"Don't talk about your cursed snuff!" cried shoemaker Deichert, "it has
given me a nose like that!" and he held up his fist before his face;
but he did not have a chance to say more, for everybody laughed, as
they saw his natural nose peeping out on both sides of his fist.
"Fellow-citizens!" said Kurz, again, "I know, very well, there must be
poverty, but it should be of a reasonable kind; I mean, so that every
one may be able to take care of himself, and not be a burden to other
people. But is that possible, under the sad state of things in our
city? Fellow-citizens! for some years, I have been striving against the
unjust privileges which certain people have obtained, and in which they
have been protected."
"Gossip," said Thiel, the joiner, to Juerendt, "you see, he is
coming to the stadtbullen. There he must stop, baker Wredow is my
brother-in-law."
He was right. "Fellow-citizens!" cried Kurz, "I mean the stadtbullen,
these----"
"Down with him!" cried Thiel, the joiner.
"Yes, down with him!" echoed through the hall.
"We will hear nothing of bulls and cattle!" cried several voices.
"He grudges everybody the least profit!" cried Fritz Siebert.
"He wants it all for himself, even the stadtbullen!"
The president struck his bell emphatically, Kurz drew himself up in the
stand, and made one more attempt: "Fellow-citizens!"
"Eh, what, fellow-citizens?" cried Thiel the joiner and Deichert the
shoemaker, and pulled the unlucky tradesman down backwards, by the
skirts of his coat, out of the cooling-vat, so that he gradually
disappeared, and only his two hands trembled for a moment on the rim of
the cask, as if he were drowning, and smothered sounds arose,
"Stadtbullen--bullen--bullen--bullen?" Then all was silent, and Kurz
fell half fainting into Braesig's arms. Braesig and the carpenter carried
him out.
"I wish you would hold your confounded tongue!" said Uncle Braesig, as
he dragged Kurz into the next room, and got him into a corner, "do you
want to be turned out again?" and the two old fellows planted
themselves to the right and left of Kurz, and stood there like the two
men in the "Wild Man's gulden," who keep watch over a springing lion,
lest he should attack the people; only the two old boys went more
sensibly to work than the wild men, and each had a pipe in his hand,
instead of a club.
Meanwhile, Fritz Siebert was showing that poverty came from the
turnpike toll; the turnpike tolls must be given up; and tailor
Wimmersdorf made a very reasonable proposition; something must be done
for the poor, and he could think of nothing better at the moment, than
to write down the grand-duke's castle, at Rahnstadt, as "national
property;" if that could be sold, a good bit of poverty might be
remedied, this was carried, and seven men went off to the castle, with
Grammelin's stable lantern, and a piece of chalk, to attend to the
business.
"Krischan," said a voice behind Pomuchelskopp, "I like that. You can
write,--you shall write, to-morrow evening, on the door of our master's
house."
Pomuchelskopp looked round--the voice struck him as familiar--right
into the face of one of his own Reform day-laborers, and the cursed
rascal had the impudence to nod. He had very peculiar feelings; he had
no idea what to do; whether to play his trump of master, or to try
fraternity again. Something must be done, he must at least get the
Reformverein on his side; and when Braesig and Schultz returned to the
hall, after having frightened Kurz into going home, the president was
saying:
"Herr Pomuchelskopp has the floor."
Pomuchelskopp pressed slowly through the crowd, shaking Thiel's hand by
the way, clapping Wimmersdorf on the shoulder, and speaking a few
friendly words to the roguish shoemaker's apprentice. When he had
squeezed himself into the cask, he began: "Gentlemen!"
Well, that always makes a great impression, when a blue dress-coat with
bright buttons addresses a laborer's frock, and a mechanic's soiled
coat, as "Gentlemen!" and a murmur went through the hall: "The man is
right! He knows how to treat us!"
"Gentlemen!" said Pomuchelskopp, once more, when the murmurs ceased,
"I am no orator, I am a simple farmer; I have heard better speakers
here,"--and he bowed to the rector and Johann "Meinswegens," and tailor
Wimmersdorf, Fritz Siebert also came in for a share, on account of the
turnpike tolls,--"I have also heard worse,"--and he glanced at the door
where Kurz had been carried out,--"but, gentlemen, I have not been
drawn to you by the _speeches_, so much as by the _sentiments_ which I
find here."
"Bravo, bravo!"
"Gentlemen! I am all for Liberty, all for Equality, all for Fraternity!
I thank you for admitting me into this noble union." Here he drew a
white handkerchief from his pocket, and laid it down before him.
"Gentlemen, you have been talking about poverty. Many a silent hour
have I spent in thinking upon this subject, through many a sleepless
night have I wearied myself with the question how this evil could be
averted,"--here he wiped the sweat from his face with the handkerchief,
probably to show what a difficult matter ne had found it,--"that is to
say, gentlemen, poverty in our small towns, for our day-laborers in the
country know nothing of poverty."
"So?" cried a voice from the rear. "Krischan, it is time now, speak
up!"
"Our day-laborers," continued Pomuchelskopp, not allowing himself to be
disturbed, although he knew the voice well enough, "receive a free
dwelling and garden, free pasturage for a cow, hay and straw for the
same, wood and peat, and land for potatoes and flax, as much as they
need; once a week, alternately, a bushel of barley, a bushel of rye, or
a thaler, and all the chaff from the threshing-floor, and the
housewives can earn five shillings a day. Now, I ask you, gentlemen, is
any day-laborer in the city as well off? Ought a day-laborer to require
any more?"
"No, no!" cried the city laborers.
"Gentlemen," said Stosse Rutschow, "I am a journeyman carpenter, and I
never get more than nine groschen a day, the summer through, and one
groschen of that goes to the master; I would rather be a day-laborer
with Herr Pomuchelskopp."
"Donkey!" cried Schultz the carpenter, "have you worked at all, this
whole spring? You have been loafing about!"
"Quiet! quiet!" cried the people.
"Gentlemen!" Pomuchelskopp went on, "this is the way our day-laborers
are situated, and look at their treatment! Any day-laborer can give
notice at any time, and seek another place; isn't that honest? isn't
that satisfactory?"
"Krischan, speak, it is time!" again cried the voice in the rear.
"Gentlemen!" said Pomuchelskopp, drawing to a close, "I am heartily
agreed with this noble union in its sentiments, and on this subject of
poverty in the small towns, and you shall see--I am not a rich man, but
what I can do shall be done. And now, gentlemen, I ask your assistance
and protection; if city and country are true to each other there will
be order, and we can arrange and settle everything in a peaceable
manner, in this noble Reformverein. Long live the Rahnstadt
Reformverein!"
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Long live the Reformverein!" echoed from every corner
of the hall.
"Long live Herr Pomuchelskopp!" cried several voices, and Muchel, with
a bow and a very friendly demeanor, went back to his place.
As he turned round, the speaker's stand was already occupied, and
Zachary Braesig's red face shone upon him, not like a peaceful sun or
moon, but like a fiery meteor, which the Lord sends into the world as a
sign of his righteous judgments.
"Fellow-citizens!" he cried, and made a grimace at his fellow-citizens,
as if he had devoured two of them for breakfast that morning, and would
now select a nice, fat one for his supper,--"Fellow-citizens! if the
Herr Zamwell Pomuchelskopp had stayed quietly at home in Gurlitz, I
would not have said a word; if he had not pretended to be friends with
me, here in this very hall, and had not on this grand father-land
platform," here he struck on the cooling-vat, "told such confounded
lies, I would not say a word."
"You must not talk like that!" cried tailor Wimmersdorf, "that is all
nonsense!"
"If tailor Wimmersdorf considers my speech nonsense," said Braesig, "he
can stop his ears, for all I care; he is much too stupid for me to
notice; and now he can go and complain of me if he likes, I am
Inspector Braesig."
"You are right! Go on!" cried the people.
"Fellow-citizens, I should have said nothing at all, for I hold it for
a very unsuitable thing, in an agriculturist or any other man, to stir
up the laborers against their master; but when such a--" "Great Mogul,"
interposed Schultz,--"stands up on this altar of fraternity to deceive
this Reform with lies, and glorify himself, and make false
representations of the happiness of his laborers, then I will speak
out. Fellow-citizens! my name is Inspector Zachary Braesig."
"Bravo! bravo!"
"The Herr Zamwell Pomuchelskopp has told you that there is no poverty
to be found in the country, he has regulated all the conditions of the
day-laborer so wisely--bonus! as our honored Herr President Rein says;
but, fellow-citizens, these day-laborers' conditions are something like
roast beef and plum pudding; they are very nice, but we can't get them.
For example, and merely _praeter propter_, take the houses! Close by
Gurlitz is a sort of pig-pen, which passes for a house, and Willgans
lives there,--is Willgans here?"
Willgans was not there.
"No matter. The roof has not been mended these three years, and the
rain runs in overhead, and when there is a hard storm, the living-room
is flooded, and the poor little children must wade round like frogs,
while their father and mother are away at work, and when he complained
about it Herr Pomuchelskopp said his name was Willgans (Wild-goose),
and water was suitable for geese."
"Fie! fie! He ought not to say that!"
"And now about the free pasturage, and the hay for the cow! _Where_ is
the pasturage? Half a mile from the village, on the out-field, where
nothing grows but goat's-beard, and among the fir-trees, and can the
women go back and forth three times a day to milk? Well they don't need
to go so often as that, for eighteen laborers, out of the one and
twenty, have lost their cows, from one complaint or another, and the
three that are left are real dancing-masters."
"The fellow is a Great Mogul!" cried the carpenter, "out with him!
out!"
"Quiet, quiet! Go on again!"
"Yes, fellow-citizens, I will go on. About the wood and peat! The peat
is moss-peat from the bog, and crumbles apart, and gives no heat, and
the wood is fir-brush, and scattered branches, which the children carry
home on their shoulders; and then the potato and flax land! Where is
it? In the out-fields, on the worn-out soil. How is it manured? Only by
the birds, and when one looks at his few potatoes, at harvest, he
clasps his hands above his head, and says, 'God preserve us! Shall the
family and the pig live on those all winter!' But they do not live on
them, they steal. They don't steal from Pomuchelskopp, for they would
pay too dear for it, but they steal in the neighborhood, and a good
friend of mine, Frau Nuessler, has given orders that, if the Gurlitz
laborers are caught stealing potatoes there, they shall let them go,
for they do it from necessity, and they are to be pitied!"
"Hurrah for Frau Nuessler!" said Johann Bank, and "Hurrah!" was
repeated, again and again.
"And the flax!" continued Braesig, "so long!"--measuring about a foot on
his arm,--"so that even the Herr Notary Slusuhr himself, who is a
particular friend of Herr Pomuchelskopp's, once made the bad joke in my
presence, that the womenfolk at Gurlitz wear such short dresses,
because the flax is too short to make long ones."
"He is an infamous donkey," cried the carpenter, "to be cracking his
jokes at the poor! Out with him!"
"Fellow-citizens!" began Braesig afresh, "I will only say, the house,
the cow-pasture, and the wood and peat, and flax and potato land are,
for the laborers in the country, their roast beef and plum pudding,
they are very nice; but they can't get them, and therefore there is
poverty in the country. But how does it come about in the city?
Fellow-citizens, I will tell you, for I have lived here long enough,
and have studied human nature: the great poverty in the city comes from
the great destitution here!"
With that, he made a bow, and took his leave, and "Bravo!" resounded
through the hall: "The man is right!" "Long live Inspector Braesig!"
And then President Rein dismissed the assembly, saying that after such
a speech no one could have anything more to say; and they all came up
and congratulated Braesig, and shook hands with him all at once, all
except Pomuchelskopp and the city musician, David Berger; the one had
stolen away quietly, and the other had run home to call together his
fellow-musicians, and when Braesig stepped out of Grammelin's door,
there stood seven brass instruments before him, in a semi-circle, and
opened fire on him at once, with "Hail to the chief!" and David Berger
had his spectacles on, and was conducting with Grammelin's billiard
cue, so that Uncle Braesig must look out for his head. And the Gurlitz
laborers stood around him, in a body, and weaver Ruhrdanz said, "Don't
be afraid, Herr Inspector, you have stood by us, and we will stand by
you." And as Braesig was escorted by this festive procession, across the
market, and through the streets of Rahnstadt, these poor, despised
people followed him in trust and reverence, for it was the first time
that the world had troubled itself about their distress and sorrow, and
the feeling that one is not wholly forsaken works more good in the
human soul than any amount of admonitions.
Before the Frau Pastorin's house, Braesig made a short speech to his
guard of honor: he regretted that he could not invite them in, but it
would be unsuitable in a clerical house, for he lived with the Frau
Pastorin; but he hoped they would all meet him at Grammelin's,
to-morrow evening, over a bowl of punch. They received this with a
"Hurrah!" and when Braesig had gone to bed, after telling Karl the whole
story, the Rahnstadt glee-club sang under window,
"Laurels wave where the warrior sleeps,"
and on the road to Gurlitz went the day-laborers, in serious mood; and
old weaver Ruhrdanz said, "Children, listen to me! We will get rid of
him; but not by force, no! in all moderation, for what would the
grand-duke and the Herr Inspector Braesig say, if we should show our
gratitude for his speech by making fools of ourselves?"