The humour of Germany; . sat at table with us gazed at me in silence; it wasevident that I was expected to say a weighty word in self-defence. I myself felt it incumbent upon me,—but unfor-tunately nothing appropriate occurred to me. After alengthy pause I mildly remarked, Quite true, one shoulddip down into the fulness of human life. My friend Ottolaughed scornfully into his glass, our friends gave me a lookof pity—I had undoubtedly made a fool of myself. At the same time, the words of my friend Otto wouldnever have made such an impression upon me if my con-science had not troubled me. A plan
The humour of Germany; . sat at table with us gazed at me in silence; it wasevident that I was expected to say a weighty word in self-defence. I myself felt it incumbent upon me,—but unfor-tunately nothing appropriate occurred to me. After alengthy pause I mildly remarked, Quite true, one shoulddip down into the fulness of human life. My friend Ottolaughed scornfully into his glass, our friends gave me a lookof pity—I had undoubtedly made a fool of myself. At the same time, the words of my friend Otto wouldnever have made such an impression upon me if my con-science had not troubled me. A plan was ripening withinme for a great social novel, delineating the life of the lowerclasses in Berlin. Realism—that was my programme. Inspirit I saw my likeness in all the illustrated papers; behindmy name I read, The German Zola, in a parenthesis. Ihad not yet fully decided upon the contents of the novel;but so much was sure, the hero should be a second-classcab-driver,—if that didnt take, I didnt know what KEPT ME WAITING AT THE DOOR WHILE HE WAS AMUSING HIMSELF WITH HIS ADORED. 384 GERMAN HUMOUR. As I was walking home, I was tortured with tormentingdoubts called forth by the words of my friend. So youwould delineate a second-class cab-driver ? I said to myself What do you know about a second-class cab-driver ?That in summer he wears a coat trimmed with galloons, anda cocked hat, and in winter a mantle, high boots lined withstraw, and a fur cap—everybody knows that. But haveyou ever listened to the conversation with which at thestopping-places he makes time pass for himself and hiscolleagues ? Have you ever followed him into the gin-shops where he refreshes himself with a glass of half-and-half and a sandwich ? Do you know aught about his likesand dislikes ? Or of the mutual relation between him andhis horse? In a word, have you any knowledge of theinner life of a second-class cab-driver ? Be honest withyourself, you have none; and here you are going to write
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