you’ve really got anything to say, you’ve got to draw
on a language that can stand the strain.
Wenn haber man kann nicht meinem Rede Verstehen, so werde
ich ihm sp:ater dasselbe :ubersetz, wenn er solche Dienst
verlangen wollen haben werden sollen sein h:atte. (I don’t
know what wollen haben werden sollen sein ha”tte means,
but I notice they always put it at the end of a German
sentence–merely for general literary gorgeousness,
I suppose.)
This is a great and justly honored day–a day which is
worthy of the veneration in which it is held by the true
patriots of all climes and nationalities–a day which
offers a fruitful theme for thought and speech; und meinem
Freunde–no, meinEN FreundEN–meinES FreundES–well,
take your choice, they’re all the same price; I don’t
know which one is right–also! ich habe gehabt haben
worden gewesen sein, as Goethe says in his Paradise
Lost–ich–ich–that is to say–ich–but let us change cars.
Also! Die Anblich so viele Grossbrittanischer und Amerikanischer
hier zusammengetroffen in Bruderliche concord, ist zwar
a welcome and inspiriting spectacle. And what has moved you
to it? Can the terse German tongue rise to the expression of
this impulse? Is it Freundschaftsbezeigungenstadtverordneten-
versammlungenfamilieneigenth:umlichkeiten? Nein,
o nein! This is a crisp and noble word, but it fails
to pierce the marrow of the impulse which has gathered
this friendly meeting and produced diese Anblick–eine
Anblich welche ist gut zu sehen–gut fu”r die Augen
in a foreign land and a far country–eine Anblick solche
als in die gew:ohnliche Heidelberger phrase nennt man ein
“scho”nes Aussicht!” Ja, freilich natu”rlich wahrscheinlich
ebensowohl! Also! Die Aussicht auf dem K:onigsstuhl
mehr gr:osser ist, aber geistlische sprechend nicht so
scho”n, lob’ Gott! Because sie sind hier zusammengetroffen,
in Bruderlichem concord, ein grossen Tag zu feirn,
whose high benefits were not for one land and one locality,
but have conferred a measure of good upon all lands
that know liberty today, and love it. Hundert Jahre
voru”ber, waren die Engla”nder und die Amerikaner Feinde;
aber heut sind sie herzlichen Freunde, Gott sei Dank!
May this good-fellowship endure; may these banners here
blended in amity so remain; may they never any more wave
over opposing hosts, or be stained with blood which
was kindred, is kindred, and always will be kindred,
until a line drawn upon a map shall be able to say:
“THIS bars the ancestral blood from flowing in the veins
of the descendant!”
APPENDIX E
Legend of the Castles
Called the “Swallow’s Nest” and “The Brothers,”
as Condensed from the Captain’s Tale
In the neighborhood of three hundred years ago the Swallow’s
Nest and the larger castle between it and Neckarsteinach
were owned and occupied by two old knights who were
twin brothers, and bachelors. They had no relatives.
They were very rich. They had fought through the wars
and retired to private life–covered with honorable scars.
They were honest, honorable men in their dealings,
but the people had given them a couple of nicknames which
were very suggestive–Herr Givenaught and Herr Heartless.
The old knights were so proud of these names that if
a burgher called them by their right ones they would
correct them.
The most renowned scholar in Europe, at the time, was the
Herr Doctor Franz Reikmann, who lived in Heidelberg.
All Germany was proud of the venerable scholar, who lived
in the simplest way, for great scholars are always poor.
He was poor, as to money, but very rich in his sweet
young daughter Hildegarde and his library. He had been
all his life collecting his library, book and book,
and he lived it as a miser loves his hoarded gold.
He said the two strings of his heart were rooted,
the one in his daughter, the other in his books; and that
if either were severed he must die. Now in an evil hour,
hoping to win a marriage portion for his child, this simple
old man had entrusted his small savings to a sharper to be
ventured in a glittering speculation. But that was not
the worst of it: he signed a paper–without reading it.
That is the way with poets and scholars; they always sign
without reading. This cunning paper made him responsible