Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1855-08-08
From Household Words
WHAT MY LANDLORD BELIEVED,

my landlord, quite in good faith and earnest
believed. 1t may be worth relating.
You know, Lieber Herr, said Water Bohm,
there is nothing in the whole Kaserstadt so
astonishing to strangers our sign-boards.-
Those beautiful paintings that you see-Am
Graben and Hohe Markt, real works of art,
with which the sign-boards of other countries
are no more to be compared than your hum
drum English music is to the delicious walt
yes of Lanner, or the magic polkas of Strauss
Imagine an Englishman, who knows nothing
of painting, finding himself all at once in front
of one of those charm ing compositions pic
lures that they would make gallery of in
London, but which We can afford to put out of
doors he is fixed, he is dumb with astonish-
ment and delight-he goes mad. Well, Lieb-
er Kerr, this is exactly what happened to one
of your English nobility. Milor arrived in
Vienna; and as he had made 4 wager that he
would see every notability in the city and its
environs in the course of three days, which
was all the time he could spare, he hired a
haker at the Tabor-Linie, and drove as fast as
the police would let HIM from church to thea
tre; from museum to wine-cellar; till chance
and the fiaker brought him into the Graben.
Milor got out TO stretch himself, and to see
the wonderful shops, and after few turns
came suddenly upon the house at the sign of
the Joan of Arc.
ssGoddam 20 exclaimed Milor, as his eve
met the sign-board.
There he stood, this English nobleman, in
his drab coat with pearl buttons, his red neck
cloth, blue pantaloons and white hat, trans
fixed for at least five minutes. Then swearing
some hard oaths, a thing the English always
do when they particularly pleased, Mior
exclaimed, " 1t is exquisite Holy Lord Mayor,
it is unbelievable -
Mein Lieber, you have seen that painting of
course, 1 mean Joan of Arc, life-sze, clad
in steel, sword in hand, and with wonderful
serenity expressed in her countenance, as she
leads her tagging troops once more to the at
tack upon the walls. 1t has all the softness of
Coreggio, and the vigor of Rubens. Milor
gave three bounds, and was in the middle of
the shop in moment.
ss That picture!'' he exclaimed.
What picture e,,-Eurer Gnaden % enquir
ed the shopkeeper, bowing in the most ele-
CANT manner.
st hangs at your door-Joan of Arc, I
wish to buy it.''
&c 1t is not for sale, Eurer Gnaden.'
ssBah ~ calculated Milor, :. must have it,
1 will cover it with guineas.''
Sc 1t is impossible
ssHow impossible 20 cried Milor, diving
into the capacious pocket of the drab coat
with the pearl buttons, and drawing forth
heavy roll of English bank notes, sI'll bet
you anything you like that it is not impossi-
ble.''
your grace" replied the shopkeeper,
'smy Joan Of Arc is beyond price to me- 1t
draws all the town to my shop not forgetting
the foreigners
81 will buy your shop" said the English
man.
ss Milor. Graf Schweinekopf Won Pimple-
stein called only yesterday to sec it, and LIE
Comte de Barbebiche.''
GA Frenchman - shouted Milor.
ssFrom Paris" your grace.
Sc Will you sell me your loan of Arc ?'' was
the furious demand. 81 will cover it with
pounds sterling twice over.''
LIE Comte de Barbebiche''-
SO You have promised it TO him ?''
's sYes." gasped Herr Wechsel, catching at
the idea.
ssEnough.'' cried the English nobleman:
and he strobe into the street. With one i'm
passioned plance at the figure of La Pucele,
he threw himself into his faker and drove
rapidly out of sight.
On reaching his hotel, he chose two pairs of
boxing gloves, set OF rapiers, and case of
duelling pistols; and, thus loaded, descended
to his fiaker, tossed them in, and started off in
the direction of the nearest hotel LIE Com
te de Barbebiche"-that was the password
but everywhere it failed to elicit the desired
reply. He passed from street to street-from
gasthaus to gasthaus-everywher the same
dreary negative and the day waned, and his
search was still unsuccessful. But he never
relaxed; the morning found him still pursu-
ing enquiries and midday saw him at the
porte cochere ofthe Hotel of the Holy Ghost.
in the Rothenthurm Strasse, with his case of
duelling pistols in his hand, his set of rapiers
under his arm, and his two pairs of boxing
gloves slung round his neck.
"Deliver my card Immediately to the Com |
te, ," said he TO the attendant; &c and tell him |
am waiting" He had found him out. Luck
lily, the Comte de Barbebiche happened to be
in the best possible humor when this message
was conveyed to him, having just succeeded
In dyeing his mustache to his entire satisfac-
tion. He glanced at the card-smiled at him
self complacently in the mirror before him,
and answered in gracious voice, &c Let Milor
come up
Milor was soon heard upon the stairs; and,
Il ha sfroda irfo fh1 .o.o,,s lie a.....= FL