Fires of St. John - novelonlinefull.com
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Why, of course, Pastor. This is St. John's Eve. The villagers will set off tar-barrels and bonfires, and we will celebrate it with a bowl.
Brauer.
[_Mischievously_.] But perhaps this festival is too heathenish for the clergy----
Pastor.
Bless you, that all depends. If you have not the clergy's sanction, then it is wicked and heathenish----
Brauer.
But if they are invited, then it is Christianly and good? Ha, ha----!
Pastor.
Well, I did not say that. You had better apply to the consistory, they are better able to decide that point.
Brauer.
Ah, Pastor, you are a diplomat. Well, what are you two doing over there? You are not saying a word.
Gertrude.
George is too lazy. He is drawing little men, and I am writing.
Brauer.
In his place I think I would prefer to draw little women. Eh, Pastor?
George.
Just as you say, uncle!
Brauer.
[_Aside_.] What the devil is the matter with him to-day? Come, children, be jolly, this is St. John's Eve! Ah, here is the punch! Now, then, Gertrude, lend a hand!
[Marie _has entered with the bowl and gla.s.ses_.]
Gertrude.
Yes, papa.
Brauer.
[_Drinks_.] Excellent, Marie! Superb! I tell you, Pastor, whoever gets her for a wife will be a lucky man indeed.
Gertrude.
[_With a gla.s.s to_ George, _who has gone back and is looking out_.]
Don't you want some, George?
George.
[_Caressing her, with a shy glance at_ Marie.] Why, yes, little one, thank you! Look, how bright and beautiful the moon shines to-night!
Everything wrapped as in silvery spider web! How beautiful!
Marie.
[_Oppressed_.] They will soon set off the bonfires.
Brauer.
See, see--at last you have spoken; I feared you had lost your tongue.
Come here, my child. Get your gla.s.ses, all of you---- Your health! The Pastor shall give us a toast; yes, yes, Pastor!--a genuine pagan toast, well suited to this night! Now, tell me, my child, are you obliged to go to the city again to-night?
Marie.
Yes, papa dear.
Brauer.
But if I will not allow it?
Marie.
You gave your permission quite two weeks ago, papa dear!
Brauer.
But not to go in the middle of the night!
Marie.
I must go, papa. The men are to be there at seven in the morning, and if I am not there to give instructions the house will never be finished in time.
Mrs. Brauer.
Never mind, Henry, there is no help for it.
Brauer.
But look at her!
Marie.
Why, papa, there is nothing the matter with me. I am well and merry----
