But instead of that he found himself looking into long faces. Finally
he screwed up his courage and asked why they were so indifferent.
"Why, good heavens, Mr. Schuenemann," said Hoppensack, "a recorder and
his wife came to us the last of May and now it is almost the middle of
September. We want to be alone again, you see." As Mrs. Hoppensack
nodded approvingly, there was nothing left for Schuenemann to do but to
depart himself the next day.
Not long after the last summer guests had gone the equinoctial storms
set in, and, if it was a bad year, they lasted on into November. First
the chestnuts fell, then the tiles rattled down from the roof, and
from the eaves-troughs, always placed with their outlets close by
bedroom windows, the rain splashed noisily down into the yard. In the
course of time, scattered clouds sailed across the clearing sky and
the air turned cold. Everybody felt the chilliness, and all day long
there was an old woodchopper at work in the shed. My father would
often go down to see him, take the ax and split wood for him a
half-hour at a time.
Social activities were at a standstill during these late autumn days.
People were recovering from the strain of the summer season and
storing up strength for winter entertainments. Before these began
there was an interregnum of several weeks, the slaughtering and baking
times, the latter coinciding with the Christmas period. First came
the slaughtering of geese. A regular household without a goose-killing
time could hardly have been thought of.
Pages:
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604