Part 2

The customs of the Seldwylians he hated, and he felt afraid of their noisy demonstrations when they organized a political procession or had mass meetings. At such times he sat in the rear of the workshop and feared bloody riots and murder growing out of it all. But nevertheless it remained his sole object and his great secret to stay on in Seldwyla until the end of his days. Such just and decent persons like him you will find scattered all over the earth, and where they are for no better reason than that it just so happened they got hold without trouble of their own of one of these sucking tubes guaranteeing a satisfactory income. And this they do steadily, giving no thought the while to the land of their birth, but without loving their new home, without a glance to right or left, and thus resembling not so much a freeman as one of those lower organisms, odd animalculae or vegetable seeds, which by the whims of wind or water are accidentally carried to the spot where they flourish.

Thus Jobst had lived year after year in Seldwyla, slowly but constantly adding to his secret store which he had buried under the tiles of his chamber floor. No tailor could boast of having earned anything through him, for he still possessed the same Sunday coat in which he had arrived in town, and the garment was still in the same condition. Neither had any shoemaker done any work for him in Seldwyla, for the soles of his boots were still intact. The year, after all, has but fifty-two Sundays, and only the half of these were utilized by him for a walk. Nobody, in fact, had been the better for his stay in town; as soon as he received his wages the money went to the hiding-place mentioned, and even when he went off on his Sunday excursions he never put a coin in his pocket, so as to foil any temptation for spending. When hucksters or old women came to the shop with goods or fruit, with cherries, plums or pears, it was amusing to watch Jobst, who tenderly felt of the quality of the fruit, entered into discussions with the vendors, thus leading these to indulge false and extravagant hopes, only to be disappointed. He would, however, advise his comrades as to how to make the most of their purchases, how to bake their apples in the oven, to peel them or to stew them, without ever asking for or receiving one mouthful himself. But though nobody ever saw the color of his money, neither did they ever hear him swear, show any anger, demand anything not strictly within his rights, or give vent to ill-humor. He was the very essence of pacifism. He carefully avoided quarrels or argument, and he did not even make a wry face when anyone, as happened frequently, would play tricks on him. And while indeed eaten up constantly with curiosity as to the issue of every kind of gossip, disputes or wrangling he had come to know about, since these furnished him with one of his chief amusements, and while he would keep a strict account and inquire in a mild way about them and the right and wrong in each case, the while the other workmen were indulging in their rude brawls or tavern orgies, he nevertheless was mighty careful never to interfere or to take a decided part for or against. In short, he was a most curious medley of truly heroic wisdom and persistence, coupled with a gentle but pronounced want of heart and feeling.

At one time he had been for many weeks the sole workman in the establishment, and he had flourished under these circumstances like a green bay tree. Nights especially he rejoiced in the exclusive tenancy of the big, wide bed. He made full use of his opportunities, and went through incredible contortions while stretching his lank limbs in the bed. He in a manner trebled his person, changing his posture ceaselessly, and indulged in the hallucination that, as usual, there were three of them and he were urgently requested by the other two not to stand on ceremony and to take things easy. The third one being himself, he voluptuously complied with the invitation, wrapped himself completely in the feather bed, or else straddled his legs, lay across the full width of the couch, or in the harmless exuberance of delight would even turn a decent somersault or two.

But alas! the day came when he, already indulging in some such innocent capers, after having retired early, suddenly saw a strange workman sedately enter the chamber, being led thither by the mistress of the house. Jobst was just lying in measureless comfort with his head at the foot of the bed, his not quite immaculate feet on the pillows, when this happened. The stranger unfastened his heavy knapsack from his back, stood it in a corner, and then, without loss of time, began to undress, since he felt very tired. Jobst quick as a flash assumed the proper position in bed and stretched himself along his accustomed spot next to the wall. While doing this the thought rushed through his head: "Surely he'll soon clear out again, since it is summertime and fine weather for roaming about."

This hope on further consideration took firm root, and with sundry sighs and grunts lulled him to sleep. He dreamt, though, of a speedy resumption of the kicking and rowing in bed, and a nightmare woke him in the middle of the night, an evil omen. He was amazed, however, when dawn came, and he had felt neither pokes in the ribs, nor had been feloniously deprived of his share of the covering. Not only that; the new arrival, although a Bavarian, was inordinately polite, peaceable and well-behaved, for all the world like a counterpart of his own self. This unheard-of fact cost Jobst his calmness of mind. He could not drive the misgivings thus engendered from his head. And while the two were dressing in the dim light of early morning, he scrutinized his new fellow-worker closely. It seemed a singular case to him. He observed that this new man, like himself, was no longer quite young, but cleanly and decent in speech and manners. The Bavarian on his part with words well-set and sober inquired of Jobst about the circumstances of life in Seldwyla, just about in the same way in which he himself would have done it. As soon as this became apparent to him, Jobst grew secretive and kept to himself the simplest and most harmless things, opining that, of course, the Bavarian must have some occult motive in coming to this town. To ascertain this secret now became the prime object with him. That there was a deep secret he never had the slightest doubt. Why else should this man, just like himself, be such a gentle, smooth-spoken and experienced sort? Only by the theory of his harboring a deep-laid scheme, of being a designing person, could he explain matters to himself. And thus began a kind of silent, never-sleeping warfare between these two. Each did his best to find out the "secret" of the other; but it was all done with the greatest precaution, in words of double meaning, by amiable subterfuges and in peaceable ways. Neither ever gave a clear answer to any question, but yet after the lapse of but a few hours each of the pair was firmly convinced that the other was in all essential respects his own double. And when in the course of the day Fridolin, the Bavarian, several times visited the chamber and busied himself with something, Jobst seized upon the first chance to go there likewise at a moment when the other was fully occupied with his work, and hurriedly made a search of Fridolin's personal property. However, he discovered nothing but almost precisely the same articles owned by himself, down to a small wooden needle case, except that here he found it in the shape of a fish, while his own bore a sportive resemblance to a baby; and, further, in lieu of a somewhat dilapidated conversational grammar for popular use in which Jobst sometimes studied French, the Bavarian could boast of a neatly bound copy of a book entitled "The cold and the hot Vat, an indispensable Handbook for Dyers." And in it there was a penciled note on the margin: "Pledge for three Stuyvers which the Nassau man borrowed of me." From this Jobst judged that he was dealing with somebody who knew how to take care of his own, and thinking so instinctively cast searching glances along the floor. Soon, too, he noticed a tile which seemed to have recently been removed. And sure enough, when he took this out, he found the man's treasure, folded and wrapped in the half of an old handkerchief tightly wound about with tough twine, almost as heavy as his own, although his was encased in an old sock. Trembling with excitement he replaced the tile in its yawning hole, trembling at the thought of such admirable foresight and wise economy in the case of another, a rival, a competitor. He flew down the stairs, and in the workshop he set to as if it depended on his exertions to provide the entire world with combs for generations to come. And the Bavarian did the same, as if Heaven itself must also be combed. During the ensuing week each found full confirmation of his first suspicion. For if Jobst was industrious and frugal, Fridolin was active and abstemious, and with the same regretful sighs at the difficulty of these virtues. And when Jobst was serene and sapient, Fridolin was jocular and knowing. If the one was humble, the other was even more so. When Jobst showed himself sly or ironical, the other was sarcastic and almost astute. And if Jobst made a face betraying his peaceful disposition, his double succeeded in putting on an air of incomparable asininity.

The whole was not so much a race between the two as it was the simple exercise of conscious mastery in all these arts. Each was fully permeated with the conviction that the other would excel him if not constantly on the watch. Neither disdained imitating the other. Each of them was forever on the lookout to perfect himself, taking the other as a model in any traits which he himself might yet lack or be deficient in. And with all that they looked most of the time as though each was perfectly incapable of seeing through the other. Thus they resembled two doughty heroes who behave towards each other with knightly courtesy and even assist one another until the moment shall arrive when they begin to hack away at each other.

However, after the lapse of this week a third came, a Suabian, by name Dietrich, whereat the two in silence rejoiced, as at a jolly foil against which their own greatness of soul could best be measured and compared. And they intended to place the poor little Suabian between their own selves, to make the contrast between him and their own patent virtues all the more striking, about as in the case of two stately lions with a tiny monkey between, with whom they might deign to play.

But who can describe their astonishment when they observed that the Suabian behaved precisely in the same manner as themselves, and when the recognition of a kindred soul took place by the identical processes as had been the case before. The same adroit system of standing sentinel over each other was repeated. But with this signal difference, that now it was a triangular game, whereby not only they themselves altered somewhat their own attitude, but the third man his also, and that they all three finally stood towards each other in distinctly different positions.

This became first apparent on the night of his arrival when they took him between themselves in bed. The Suabian demonstrated his entire parity. Like a match he lay within the slim space, so perfectly poised and without the flicker of an eyelid that there actually remained a bit of room, of neutral territory, on either side. And the bed cover remained spread over the trio as tight and smooth as the wrapping paper over three herrings. He was evidently their match. The situation now commenced to be more serious, more complicated, and since all three now faced each other like the three corners of a triangle, and since no friendly or confidential relations were under these circumstances feasible between them, no armistice or courtly tournament, they got into a state of mind where they with malice aforethought, each in his own way and with his own weapons, gently and slily began to try ousting each other out of bed and house.

When the master of the house saw that these three queer customers would put up with anything, if only they were allowed to remain in his service, he first lowered their wages, and next gave them scanter fare. But this only led to an aggravation of diligence on their part, and that again enabled him to flood the whole surrounding district with his goods, and he got orders upon orders, so that he made a pile of money out of their cheap labor and possessed a veritable gold mine in them. He let out his leather belt around the loins by several holes and began to play quite an important part in the town, while all this time his foolish workmen slaved like beasts of burden in their dark and ill-ventilated shop at home, striving, each of them, to force the other two out of the race. Dietrich, the Suabian, although the youngest of them, proved of the same calibre as the other two. The only difference was that he as yet had scarcely any savings, inasmuch as he had not yet traveled around much, having been a prentice until recently. This would have been an unfortunate obstacle for him in the race, for Jobst and Fridolin would have had greatly the start of him, if he as a Suabian had not been inventive in stratagem. For although Dietrich's heart, like that of the others, was wholly bare of any sinful or earthly passion, always excepting the one of persisting to remain in Seldwyla and nowhere else, and to reap all the advantages of that plan, he nevertheless bethought him of the trick of falling in love and to woo such a maiden as should possess about such a dowry in size as the respective treasures which the Saxon or the Bavarian had hidden under their tiles.

It was one of the better peculiarities of the Seldwyla folk that they were averse to wed unattractive or unamiable women just for the sake of a somewhat larger dowry. There was no very great temptation anyway, for wealthy heiresses there were none in their town, either pretty or homely ones, and thus they at least maintained their sturdy and manly independence even by disdaining the smaller mouthfuls, and preferred to unite themselves rather with goodlooking and merry girls, and thus lead for a few years with them at any rate a happy life. Hence it was not hard for the Suabian, spying about for a suitable partner, to find his way into the good graces of a virtuous maiden. She dwelt in the same street, and in conversation with old women he had soon ascertained that she possessed as her own undoubted property a mortgage of seven hundred florins. This maiden was Zues Buenzlin, the twenty-eight-year-old daughter of a washerwoman. She lived with her mother, but could freely dispose of this legacy from her deceased father. This valuable bit of paper she kept in a highly varnished trunk. There, too, she had the accumulated interest money, her baptismal certificate, her testimonial of confirmation, and a painted and gilt Easter egg; in addition to all this she preserved there half a dozen silver spoons, the Lord's Prayer printed in gold letters upon transparent glass, although she believed the material to be human skin, a cherry stone into which was carved the Passion of Christ, and a small box of ivory, lined with red satin, and in which were concealed a tiny mirror and a silver thimble; there was also in it another cherry stone in which you could hear clattering a diminutive set of ninepins, a nutshell in which a madonna became visible behind glass, a silver heart, in a hollow of which was a scent bottle, and a candy box fashioned out of dried lemon peel, on the cover of which was painted a strawberry, and in which there might be discovered a golden pin displayed on a couch of cotton wool representing a forget-me-not, and a locket showing on the inside a monument woven out of hair; lastly, a bundle of age-yellowed papers with recipes, secrets, and so forth; also a small flask of Cologne water, another holding stomach drops, a box of musk, another with marten excrements, and a small basket woven out of odoriferous grasses, another of beads and cloves, and then a small book bound in sky-blue silk and entitled "Golden Life Rules for the Maiden as Betrothed, Wife and Mother"; and a dream book, a letter writer, five or six love letters, and a lancet for use to let blood. This last piece came from a barber and assistant surgeon to whom she had once been engaged, and since she was a naturally skillful and very sensible person she had learned from her fiance how to open a vein, to put on leeches, and similar things, and had even been able to shave him herself. But alas, he had proved an unworthy object of her affections, with whom she might easily have risked her temporal and heavenly welfare, and thus she had with saddened but wise resolution broken the engagement. Gifts were returned on both sides, with the exception of the lancet. This she kept in pawn as pledge for one florin and eight and forty stuyvers, which sum she on one occasion had lent him in cash. The unworthy one claimed, however, that she had no right to it since she had given him the money on the occasion of a ball, in order to defray joint expenses, and he added that she had eaten twice as much as himself. Thus it happened that he kept the florin and forty-eight stuyvers, while she kept the surgical appliance, with which Zues operated extensively among her female acquaintance and earned many a penny. But every time she used the instrument she could not help mentioning the low habits of him who had once stood so close to her and who had almost become her partner for life.

All these things were locked up in that trunk, and the trunk again was kept in a large walnut wardrobe, the key to which Zues had constantly in her pocket. As to her person, Zues had rather sparse reddish hair as well as clear pale-blue eyes; these now and then possessed some charm, and then would throw glances both wise and gentle. She owned an enormous store of clothes, but of these she only wore the oldest. However, she was always carefully and cleanly dressed, and just as neat was the appearance of her room. She was very industrious and helped her mother in her laundry work, ironing out the finer and more delicate fabrics and washing the lace caps and the jabots of the wealthier Seldwyla ladies, thus earning quite a bit. And it may be that it was due to this sort of activity that Zues always exhibited the peculiar stern and dignified bent of mind which women show when they are dealing with laundry work, especially with the work over the tub. For Zues never unbent at all until the ironing began. Then, it might be, a species of sedate cheerfulness would seize upon her, in her case, however, invariably spiced with words of wisdom. This sedate spirit, too, was recognizable in the chief decorative piece on the premises, namely, a garland of soap cakes, square, accurately gauged cakes, which encircled the large living room on shelves. The soap was thus exposed to the warm air currents in order to harden and become fitter for use. And it was Zues herself who always cut out the cakes by means of a brass wire. The wire had fastened to it at either end two small wooden knobs so one could seize them there for a more commodious cutting of the soft soap. But a fine pair of compasses used in dividing the soap in equal sections was also there. This instrument had been made for her and presented as a valued gift by a journeyman mechanician with whom she had at one time been as good as engaged. From him, too, came a gleaming small brass mortar for the pulverization of spices. This decorated the edge of her cupboard, right between the blue china tea can and the painted flower vase. For long such a dainty little mortar had been her special desire, and the attentive mechanician was therefore extremely welcome when he appeared one afternoon on her birthday and likewise brought along something to put the mortar to its legitimate use: a boxful of cinnamon, lump sugar, cloves and pepper. The mortar itself he hung, before entering at the door, by one of its handles to his little finger, and with the pestle he started a gay tinkling, just like a bell, so that out of the adventure grew a jolly day of festivity. However, shortly afterwards the false scoundrel fled from the district, and was never heard of more. Besides that, his master even demanded the return of the mortar, since the fugitive had taken it from his shop, but had forgotten to pay for it. But Zues did not deliver up this valuable object. On the contrary, she went to law for its undisputed possession, and in court she defended her claim valiantly, basing her rights on the fact that she had washed, starched and ironed a set of "dickies" for the vanished lover. Those days, the days when she was forced to defend her rights to the mortar in open court, were the most conspicuous and painful of her whole life, since she with her deep feelings felt these things and more particularly her appearance in court for the sake of such delicate affairs much more keenly than others of a lighter disposition would have done. All the same she scored a victory and kept her mortar.

If, however, this neat soap gallery proclaimed her exact working tactics and her passion for toil, a row of books, arranged in orderly fashion on the window ledge, did honor to her religious and disciplined mind. These books were of a miscellaneous description, and she read and reread them studiously on Sundays. She still possessed all her school books, never having lost a single one of them. She also still carried in her head all her little stock of scholastic learning acquired at school; she knew the whole catechism by heart, as well as the contents of the grammar, of the arithmetic, of her geography book, of the collection of biblical stories, and of the various readers and spellers. Then she also owned some of the pretty tales by Christoph Schmid and the latter's short novelettes, with handsome verses at the end, at least a half dozen of sundry treasuries of poetry and gatherings of popular fairy tales, a number of almanacs full of specimens of homely wisdom and practical experience, several precise and remarkable prophecies of tremendous events to come, a guide for laying the cards, a book of edification for every day of the year intended for the use of thoughtful virgins, and an old and slightly damaged copy of Schiller's "The Robbers," which she slowly perused again and again, as often as she feared she might begin to forget this stirring drama. And each time she read it, the play appealed to her sentimental heart anew, so that she made constant references to it and commented in a highly praiseworthy manner on the various personages presented in it. And really all there was in these books she also retained in her memory, and understood exceedingly well how to speak about them and about many other things as well. When she felt cheerful and contented and did not have to hasten her labors too greatly, speech flowed continuously from her lips, and everything under the sun she knew how to judge and to put into its proper category. Young and old, high and low, learned and unlearned, they all were compelled to listen and to receive instruction from her. First, she would hear everybody out, meanwhile smilingly and sensibly straightening out the case in her wise little head. And then, having now perceived whither all these plaints or fears tended, she would solve the more or less knotty problem at a stroke. Sometimes she would speak so unctuously and elaborately on matters that irreverent criticasters had compared her to learned blind persons who have never had sight of the world and whose sole solace it is to hear themselves talk.