New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1876-03-05
again. So is it also with men; but the
great shipwreck, no one has seen"
Third RemembFanee.

great enapWfeck, no one oaS seen.
Third Remembranee.
The clouds on the sky of childhood do
not last long, and after short warm,
tear-rain, they disappear. So / was soon
again at the palace, and the Princess gave
me her hand to kiss, and then she brought
her children, the young princes and
prin cesses, and we played together as if
we had known each other for years.
Those were happy days, when. after
schooltime Nor already went to school),
I was allowed to 60 to the palace to play
There we had all that the heart desired.
Toys that my mother had shown me in
the shop windows. and which she told me
were SO dear that poor people could live
a whole week on the money that they
cost, and if I asked the Princess, was
allowed to take them home and show
them to my mother, or keep them alto
gether. Beautiful picture books, that
had seen at the booksellers, with my
father, but that were only for very good
children; these, when at the palace, could
look at leaf by leaf, and examine for
hours long. All that belonged to the young
princes, belonged also to me. So at least
l thought. Then I was allowed not only
to take away with me what wanted for
myself, but also to give away the toys to
other children; in short, was young
communist in the full sense of the word
Once, I remember the Princess had a
| golden snake which coiled around her
arm as if it were living, and that she
gave us to play with. Now, as went
home placed the snake round my arm
and thought should give my mother a
good fright. But on the way met q
woman who saw my golden snake, and
begged me to show it to her; and then she
said if she might keep the snake she
could release her husband from prison.
Then, of course, did not consider a
minute, but ran away and left the woman
with the golden snake-bracelet. The next
day there was much commotion, and the
poor woman was brought to the palace,
and cried, and the people said she had
stolen the bracelet from me. But was
very angry about it, and related with
holy ardor how had given her the brace
let, and that l would not take it back.
What further happened in regard to it 1
7 %hok %1,o<
l always showed the Princess what took
no me with me. But it was long time
Def ore my idea OF meum and tuon
wholly developed, and even later in years
they were confused, as / also for a
long time could not distinguish blue from
red. The last time that remember my
fri ends laughing at me about this, was
when my mother had given me money to
buy apples. She gave me groschen,
bnt the apples cost only half-groschen,
and as I gave the woman the groschen,
she said quite sorrowfully, as it seemed to
me, that she had sold nothing the live
long day, and had no half-groschen to
give back to me. She wanted me to buy
groschen's worth. 1t occurred TO me that
l had still balf-grosehen in my pocket,
and quite pleased that I had solved the
difficult problem, gave it to the woman
and said, now you can give me back
half:groschen. But she undertood me so
little that she gave me back the groschen,
and kept the half-groschen.
Now, at this time, as went almost
daily to play with the young princes at
the palace, and also to learn French with
them, there comes in my memory another
form-that was the daughter of the
Prince, the Countess Marie. Her mother
had di ed soon after the birth OF the child,
and the Prince had married again. I
know not when l first saw her. She comes
forth slowly and gradually from the dark
ness of memory, first like an airy shadow,
that gets more and more. expression,
comes nearer and nearer to me, and at
last stands before my soul like the moon
that suddenly, in stormy night, throws
back the cloud veil over her head. She
was always sick and suffering and silent,
and never saw her otherwise than reclin-
ing upon her couch, upon which she was
brought into our room by two bearers,
and. when she was tired, carried out
again. There she lay in her full white
robe, her hands usually folded, and her
face was so pale, and yet SO mild and
lovely, and her eyes were so deep
and unsearchable that I often stood
before her buried in thought, and looked
at her, and asked myself if, perhaps, she
too was one of the ''strangers?" And
then someti mes she laid her hand on my
head, and it seemed to me as if something
thrilled all through my frame, and
could not leave, and could say nothing,
but only look into her deep, unfathom-
able eyes. She spoke little with us, but
her look followed our plays, and no mat
ter how noisy we we're she never COM
planned, but only put her hands over her
white forehead and closed her eyes, as if
she slept. But some days she said she
felt better, and then she sat upright
upon her couch, and her face was like
the aurora, and she told us wonderful
tales. How old she then was I know not.
She was like a child, for she was SO help
less; but yet she was so serious and still
that she could not have been q child.