Part 38 (1/2)

”So so,” said Frau Dorr, holding out the scarcely half-filled basket, whose contents he pa.s.sed through his fingers, shaking his head. For most of the stalks were thin and there were many broken ones among them.

”Now, Susy, listen. You certainly have no eye for asparagus.”

”Yes I have, too. But I can't work magic.”

”Oh well, we will not quarrel, Susy; that will not make it any more than it is. But it looks like starvation.”

”Why, not at all. They are all under ground, and whether they come up to-day or to-morrow, it is all the same. One good shower, such as we had before Whitsunday, and then you will see. And there is going to be rain. The water barrel is already smelling again and the big spider has crept into the corner. But you want to have everything every day; and you can't expect that.”

Dorr laughed. ”Well, tie it all up nicely. And the poor little stalks too. And then you can sell it a little cheaper.”

”Now, don't talk like that,” interrupted his wife, who always got angry over his avarice, but still she pulled his ear, which he always regarded as a sign of affection, and then she went over to the ”castle,” where she meant to make herself comfortable in the stone paved pa.s.sageway and tie up her asparagus in bunches. But she had scarcely drawn up to the threshold the stool which always stood ready, than she heard, over in the little house with three windows where Frau Nimptsch lived, a back window pushed up vigorously and a moment later hooked in place. And then she saw Lena with a lilac and white jacket over her woolen skirt and a cap on her ash-blond hair, waving a friendly greeting to her.

Frau Dorr returned the greeting with equal warmth and said: ”The window always open; that's right, Lena. It is already beginning to grow hot.

Some change must be coming.”

”Yes. And mother already has her headache from the heat, and so I would rather iron in the back room. It is pleasanter here too; at the front we don't see anybody.”

”That is so,” answered Frau Dorr. ”I believe I will come over to the window for a bit. I can always work better when I have some one to talk to.”

”How kind and good you are, Frau Dorr. But right here by the window the sun is so strong.”

”That will do no harm, Lena. I will bring my market umbrella along, the old thing is covered with patches. But it serves its purpose still.”

And within five minutes, good Frau Dorr had moved her stool over by the window and sat there as comfortable and self-satisfied as if she were at the regular market. Inside the room Lena had put the ironing board across two chairs close to the window and stood so near it that it would have been easy to reach her with one's hand. Meanwhile the flatiron moved busily back and forth. And Frau Dorr also was diligently choosing and binding up her asparagus and if she paused from her work now and then and glanced into the room, she could see the glow of the little ironing stove from which the fresh coals were taken for the flatiron.

”You might just bring me a plate, Lena, a plate or a dish.” And when Lena brought what Frau Dorr had asked, the good woman dropped into the dish the broken pieces of asparagus which she had kept in her ap.r.o.n while she was sorting out the stalks. ”There, Lena, that will make a little taste of asparagus. And it is just as good as the rest. For it is all nonsense that you must always have the heads. And it is just the same with cauliflower; always the flower ... pure imagination. The stump is really the best, for the strength of the plant is there. And the strength is always the most important thing.”

”Heavens, you are always so good, Frau Dorr. But what will your husband say?”

”He? What he says doesn't matter. He will be talking. He always wants me to put in the spindling ones with the rest as if they were real stalks; but I don't like such cheating tricks, even if the broken pieces do taste just as good as the whole stalks. What anyone pays for, he ought to get, only it makes me angry that a man who gets on so well should be such an old skinflint. But all gardeners are like that, skimp and grasp and then they can never get enough.”

”Yes,” laughed Lena, ”he is greedy and a bit peculiar. But for all that he is a good man.”

”Yes, Lena, he is well enough so far, and even his stinginess would not be so bad, for at least it is better than wastefulness, if only he were not too fond. You would not believe it, but he is always right there.

And just look at him. I have nothing but bother with him for all that he is fifty-six years old, and maybe a year more. For he tells lies if it suits him to. I keep telling him about strokes of apoplexy and point out people who limp or have their mouths drawn to one side, but he always laughs and will not believe me. But it will happen. Yes, Lena, I have no doubt that it will happen. And perhaps soon. Well, he has willed me everything he has and so I will not say anything more. When one has made one's bed, one must lie in it. But why are we talking about Dorr and strokes, and his bow legs. Good Lord, Lena, there are plenty of other folks who are as straight as a fir tree. Aren't there, Lena?”

At this Lena grew still more rosy than before, and said: ”The charcoal is cold.” And stepping back from the board, she went to the stove and shook the coal back among the embers, so as to take out a new one. All this was the work of a moment. And now with a quick turn of the hand she slipped the new hot coal from the tongs into the iron, shut the little door, and only then noticed that Frau Dorr was still waiting for an answer. But to make sure, the good woman asked the question over again and added: ”Is he coming to-day?”

”Yes. At least he promised to.”

”Now tell me, Lena,” went on Frau Dorr, ”how did it really begin?

Mother Nimptsch never says much, and if she does say anything, it doesn't amount to much, and I never get the ins and outs of it. For she only tells part and that all confused. Now do tell me. Is it true that you met in Stralau?”

”Yes, Frau Dorr, it was in Stralau, on Easter Monday, but it was already as warm as if it were Whitsunday, and because Lina Gansauge likes boating, we took a skiff; and Lina's brother Rudolph, whom I think you know, took the rudder.”

”Heavens, Rudolph. Rudolph is a mere boy.”