Only a fiddler! and O.T., or Life in Denmark, by the author of 'The improvisatore', tr. by M. Howitt |
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Only a Fiddler! and O.T., Or Life in Denmark, by the Author of 'the ... Hans Christian Andersen No preview available - 2018 |
Only a Fiddler! and O.T., Or Life in Denmark, by the Author of 'the ... Hans Christian Andersen No preview available - 2018 |
Only a Fiddler! and O.T., Or Life in Denmark, by the Author of 'the ... Hans Christian Andersen No preview available - 2018 |
Common terms and phrases
Antvorskov asked beautiful became blood called carriage certainly child Christian CHRISTIAN WINTHER church Copenhagen countenance cried dance Danish dark Denmark door dost dream exclaimed eyes father fiddle flowers friends Funen garden German Heinrich girl glance godfather grave green Grey Brothers hand happy hast head heard heart heaven Holstebro horse hung journey Jutland Kammerjunker kissed Knepus Ladislaf lady laughed Le Locle Lemvig live looked Louise Lucie Marie mother Naomi never night Nyborg Odense old Countess Otto Otto's Peter Vieck play poet poor replied returned Rosalie seemed seen seized shewed sighed silent sister Slagelse sleep smiled soon Sophie soul stood stork strange street Svendborg thee thing Thostrup thou thought trees vaudeville violin voice wall wandered whilst whole Wilhelm window wished woman wood words young
Popular passages
Page 299 - As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away : So he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more.
Page 139 - It is dead!" said he to Wilhelm, who approached him. "Now, that is capital!" returned the friend; "here you have something over which you may be sentimental!" Otto would not reply. "Shall we dance a Scotch waltz?" asked Wilhelm laughing, and the wine and his youthful blood glowed in his cheeks. "I wish you would put on your own dress!" said Otto. "You resemble, as I said before, your sister" — "And I am my sister," interrupted Wilhelm, in his wantonness. "And as a reward for your charming readings...
Page 277 - The passions are the winds, which urge our vessel forward, and reason is the pilot, which steers it; the vessel could not advance without the winds, and without the pilot it would be lost.
Page 142 - Ceux qui pieusement sont morts pour la patrie Ont droit qu'a leur cercueil la foule vienne et prie. Entre les plus beaux noms leur nom est le plus beau.
Page 191 - ... description of the last pogrom in Denmark, whose aftermath Andersen had witnessed on his arrival in Copenhagen in 1819. Naomi makes a disastrous marriage but remains haughty and spoiled: the novel concludes with her riding through Funen in a grand carriage and happening to come across Christian's funeral: The peasants stepped into the ditch with the coffin, to give the great gentlefolks room to pass; they uncovered their heads respectfully; and the noble lady, with the proud look and the charming...
Page 229 - ... humor certainly gains from the despised spirit of realism in which he paints the Knepuses. One more glimpse of the picture we must give, advising the reader, however, that the characters so fully presented are not important ones in the story. One night when Christian had returned home late, — " He suddenly heard a scraping sound at the window ; at any other time he would have paid no attention to it, but now ! He covered himself in bed and looked toward the window ; the head of a human being...
Page 207 - Is that the very important thing that you have got to tell me t ' remarked the sailor, with a cold indifference. " Her tears, her sighs, her words of despair, sank deep into Christian's heart. A visionary image had vanished, and with its vanishing he saw the dark side of a naked reality. " He found himself again alone. " A few days after this, the ice had to be hewed away from the channel. Christian and the sailor struck their axes deeply into the firm ice, sO that it broke into great pieces. Something...
Page 135 - Mens Matrosen med begede Kløer slaaer i Diske — Hvor Forklædet er en Gjøs, Særke Sejl, og kun Fiskene Fiske, — Der min Skjemt ta'r Buxer ej paa, — Som den er jeg lader den gaae — Der jeg koger ingen Ord — Kammeraterne sluge dem raa. Byder man mig en Kop Thee Ved et Bord i en Halvkreds af halve Baroner, Hvor man Jøder faaer at see, Og desligeste Modens Personer, — Hvor man blues ved en Hat, — Hvor en Kind, som er bleg, bliver rød, naar man spørger: »Hvordan Frøknen sov i Nat?
Page 127 - Wär' ich die Luft, um die Flügel zu schlagen, Wolken zu jagen, Ueber die Gipfel der Berge zu streben, Das war' ein Leben! Tannen zu wiegen und Eichen zu schaukeln, Weiter zu gaukeln, Seele den flüsternden Schatten zu geben, Das wär