Part 90 (1/2)
”You loved your mother too deeply, professor,” said Conrad; ”that is the reason you are determined not to love and marry some other woman.”
”Why, man, do not talk to me again of marrying,” cried Gellert. ”What has that fatal word to do in my study?”
”A great deal, sir; only look how miserable every thing is here; not even neat and comfortable, as it should certainly be in the room of so learned and celebrated a professor. Only think of the change that would be made by a bright young wife. You must marry, professor, and the lady must be rich. This state of things cannot continue; you must take a wife, for you cannot live on your celebrity.”
”No, Conrad, but on my salary,” said Gellert. ”I receive two hundred and fifty thalers from my professors.h.i.+p; only think, two hundred and fifty thalers! That is a great deal for a German poet, Conrad; I should consider myself most fortunate. It is sufficient for my necessities, and will certainly keep me from want.”
”It would be sufficient, professor, if we were not so extravagant. I am an old man, and you may very well listen to a word from me. I served your father for fifteen years--in fact, you inherited me from him. I have the right to speak. If it goes so far, I will hunger and thirst with you, but it makes me angry that we should hunger and thirst when there is no necessity. Have you dined today?”
”No, Conrad,” said Gellert, looking embarra.s.sed. ”I had, accidentally, no money with me as I came out of the academy, and you know that I do not like to go to the eating-house without paying immediately.”
”Accidentally you had no money? You had probably left it at home.”
”Yes, Conrad, I had left it at home.”
”No, sir; you gave your last thaler to the student who came this morning and told you of his necessities, and complained so bitterly that he had eaten nothing warm for three days. You gave your money to him, and that was not right, for now we have nothing ourselves.”
”Yes, Conrad, it was right, it was my duty; he hungered and I was full; he was poor and in want, and I had money, and sat in my warm, comfortable room; it was quite right for me to help him.”
”Yes, you say so always, sir, and our money all goes to the devil,”
muttered Conrad. ”With what shall we satisfy ourselves to-day?”
”Well,” said Gellert, after a pause, ”we will drink some coffee, and eat some bread and b.u.t.ter. Coffee is an excellent beverage, and peculiarly acceptable to poets, for it enlivens the fancy.”
”And leaves the stomach empty,” said Conrad.
”We have bread and b.u.t.ter to satisfy that. Ah, Conrad, I a.s.sure you we would often have been very happy in my father's parsonage if we had had coffee and bread and b.u.t.ter for our dinner. We were thirteen children, besides my father and mother, and my father's salary was not more than two hundred thalers. Conrad, he had less than I, and he had to provide for thirteen children.”
”As if you had not provided for yourself since you were eleven years old--as if I had not seen you copying late into the night to earn money, at an age when other children scarcely know what money is, and know still less of work.”
”But when I carried the money which I had earned to my mother, she kissed me so tenderly, and called me her brave, n.o.ble son--that was a greater reward than all the money in the world. And when the next Christmas came, and we were all thirteen so happy, and each one received a plate filled with nuts and apples and little presents, I received a s.h.i.+ning new coat. It was the first time I had ever had a coat of new cloth. My mother had bought the material with the money I had earned.
She had kept it all, and now my writings had changed into a beautiful coat, which I wore with pride and delight. No coat is so comfortable as one we have earned ourselves. The self-earned coat is the royal mantle of the poor.”
”But we need not be poor,” scolded Conrad. ”It is that which makes me angry. If we were careful, we could live comfortably and free from care on two hundred and fifty thalers. But every thing is given away, and every thing is done for others, until we have nothing left for ourselves.”
”We have never gone hungry to bed, Conrad, and we need not hunger.
To-day we have coffee, and bread and b.u.t.ter, and to-morrow I will receive something from my publishers from the fourth edition of my fables. It is not much, it will be about twenty thalers, but we will be able to live a long time on that. Be content, Conrad, and go now into the kitchen and prepare the coffee; I am really rather hungry. Well, Conrad, you still appear discontented. Have you another grievance in reserve?”
”Yes, professor, I have another. The beadle tells me that the university have offered you a still higher position than the one you now hold. Is it true?”
”Yes, Conrad, it is true. They wished me to become a regular professor.”
”And you declined?”
”I declined. I would have been obliged to be present at all the conferences. I would have had more trouble, and if I had had the misfortune to become rector I would have been lost indeed, for the rector represents the university; and if any royal personages should arrive it is he who must receive them and welcome them in the name of the university. No, no; protect me from such honors. I do not desire intercourse with great men. I prefer my present position and small salary, and the liberty of sitting quietly in my own study, to a regular professors.h.i.+p and a higher salary, and being forced to dance attendance in the antechambers of great people. Then, in addition to that, I am delicate, and that alone would prevent me from attending as many lectures as the government requires from a regular high-salaried professor. You must never receive money for work that you have not done and cannot do. Now, Conrad, those are my reasons for declining this situation for the second time. I think you will be contented now, and prepare me an excellent cup of coffee.”
”It is a shame, nevertheless,” said Conrad, ”that they should say you are not a regular professor. But that is because you have no wife. If the Swedish countess were here, every thing would be changed; your study would be nicely arranged, and you would be so neatly dressed, that no one would dare to say you were not a regular professor.”
”But that is no offence, Conrad,” cried Gellert, laughing. ”In the sense in which you understand it, I am more now than if I had accepted this other position, for I am now called an extraordinary professor.”