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Berthold Auerbach
![Berthold Auerbach](https://digilibraries-com.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/avatars/27c28f7c-82a2-4c8c-b514-5f720546a736.jpg)
Berthold Auerbach was a German-Jewish poet and author known for his "village tales" that depicted rural life in the Black Forest region. Born in 1812, he gained prominence with his work "Schwarzwälder Dorfgeschichten" ("Black Forest Village Stories"), which combined vivid storytelling with social and cultural commentary. Auerbach's literature, celebrated for its detailed characterizations and regional settings, played a significant role in 19th-century German literature, influencing both the realist movement and later generations of writers.
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CHAPTER I. THE APPARITION. "Be patient a few: minutes longer! There's a man beckoning to go with us," said the boatman to his passengers, two women and one man. The man was gray-haired, of slender form, rubicund face, and blue eyes of a kindly, but absent-minded and weary expression; a heavy moustache, wholly covering the upper lip, seemed out of keeping with this inoffensive face. He wore...
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CHAPTER I THE CHILDREN KNOCK AT THE DOOR Early in the morning through the autumnal mist two children of six or seven years are wending their way, hand in hand, along the garden-paths outside the village. The girl, evidently the elder of the two, carries a slate, school-books, and writing materials under her arm; the boy has a similar equipment, which he carries in an open gray linen bag slung across...
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CHAPTER I. Early mass was being celebrated in the chapel attached to the royal summer palace. The palace stood on a slight eminence in the center of the park. The eastern slope of the hill had been planted with vineyards, and its crest was covered with mighty, towering beeches. The park abounded with maples, plane-trees and elms, with their rich foliage, and firs of various kinds, while the thick...
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CHAPTER I. The spring has come again to the hills and valleys of our home. The day awakes, a breeze moves strongly through the forest, as if its task were to carry away the lingering night; the birds begin to twitter, and here and there an early lark utters his note. Among the pine-trees, with their fresh green needles, a whispering and rustling is heard. The sun has risen above the mountaintop, and...
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CHAPTER I. IS IT NOT YET MORNING? "Mother, is it morning yet?" asked the child, sitting up in bed. "No, not nearly—why do you ask? Lie still, and go to sleep." The child was quiet for a short time, but then repeated in a low voice:— "Mother, is it morning yet?" "What is the matter, Joseph? do be quiet—don't disturb me, and go to sleep. Say your prayers again, and...
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Next day Annele seemed quite satisfied again with Franzl—she was such a capital servant, and Annele said: "I have not yet given you any thing, Franzl; do you prefer a gown or money?" "I should like money best." "There are two crown dollars for you." Lenz was very much pleased when Franzl told him this—she is a spoiled, hasty, dear, good child, thought he—and Franzl's...
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There is a house on the declivity of a hill, on which the morning sun long lingers, and the eyes of those who gaze on this house sparkle with pleasure, for they augur from that glance that its inhabitants are happy. They are so; but their happiness is of a peculiar nature, for they have striven long and hard, before they at last acquired it. They have stood on the very threshold of death, though...
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CHAPTER I. A GOOD NAME. "She was an excellent woman." "Yes, there are few such left." "She was one of the old school." "Go to her when you would, her help and counsel were always ready." "And how much she went through! She buried her husband and four children, yet was always brave and cheerful." "Ah, Lenz will miss her sorely. He will find out now what a...
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Three o'clock had just struck from the tower of St. Nicholas, Leipzig, on the afternoon of December 22d, 1768, when a man, wrapped in a loose overcoat, came out of the door of the University. His countenance was exceedingly gentle, and on his features cheerfulness still lingered, for he had been gazing upon a hundred cheerful faces; after him thronged a troop of students, who, holding back,...
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THE GAWK I see you now, my fine fellow, as large as life, with your yellow hair cropped very short, except in the neck, where a long tail remains as if you had cut yourself after the pattern of a plough-horse. You are staring straight at me with your broad visage, your great blue goggle eyes, and your mouth which is never shut. Do you remember the morning we met in the hollow where the new houses stand...
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