Stories in Light and Shadow | Page 3

Bret Harte
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STORIES IN LIGHT AND SHADOW
by
Bret Harte
From: "ARGONAUT EDITION" OF THE WORKS OF BRET
HARTE, VOL. 13
P. F. COLLIER & SON
NEW YORK
CONTENTS
"UNSER KARL"
UNCLE JIM AND UNCLE BILLY
SEE YUP
THE DESBOROUGH CONNECTIONS

SALOMY JANE'S KISS
THE MAN AND THE MOUNTAIN
THE PASSING OF ENRIQUEZ

STORIES IN LIGHT AND SHADOW
"UNSER KARL"
The American consul for Schlachtstadt had just turned out of the broad
Konig's Allee into the little square that held his consulate. Its residences
always seemed to him to wear that singularly uninhabited air peculiar
to a street scene in a theatre. The facades, with their stiff, striped
wooden awnings over the windows, were of the regularity, color, and
pattern only seen on the stage, and conversation carried on in the street
below always seemed to be invested with that perfect confidence and
security which surrounds the actor in his painted desert of urban
perspective. Yet it was a peaceful change to the other byways and
highways of Schlachtstadt which were always filled with an equally
unreal and mechanical soldiery, who appeared to be daily taken out of
their boxes of "caserne" or "depot" and loosely scattered all over the
pretty linden-haunted German town. There were soldiers standing on
street corners; soldiers staring woodenly into shop windows; soldiers
halted suddenly into stone, like lizards, at the approach of Offiziere;
Offiziere lounging stiffly four abreast, sweeping the pavement with
their trailing sabres all at one angle. There were cavalcades of red
hussars, cavalcades of blue hussars, cavalcades of Uhlans, with
glittering lances and pennons--with or without a band--formally
parading; there were straggling "fatigues" or "details" coming round the
corners; there were dusty, businesslike columns of infantry, going
nowhere and to no purpose. And they one and all seemed to be
WOUND UP--for that service--and apparently always in the same place.
In the band of their caps--invariably of one pattern--was a button, in the
centre of which was a square opening or keyhole. The consul was
always convinced that through this keyhole opening, by means of a key,

the humblest caporal wound up his file, the Hauptmann controlled his
lieutenants and non- commissioned officers, and even the general
himself, wearing the same cap, was subject through his cap to a higher
moving power. In the suburbs, when the supply of soldiers gave out,
there were sentry-boxes; when these dropped off, there were
"caissons," or commissary wagons. And, lest the military idea should
ever fail from out the Schlachtstadt's burgher's mind, there were police
in uniform, street-sweepers in uniform; the ticket-takers, guards, and
sweepers at the Bahnhof were in uniform,--but all wearing the same
kind of cap, with the probability of having been wound up freshly each
morning for their daily work. Even the postman delivered peaceful
invoices to the consul with his side-arms and the air of bringing
dispatches from the field of battle; and the consul saluted, and felt for a
few moments the whole weight of his consular responsibility.
Yet, in spite of this military precedence, it did not seem in the least
inconsistent with the decidedly peaceful character of the town, and this
again suggested its utter unreality; wandering cows sometimes got
mixed up with squadrons of cavalry, and did not seem to mind it; sheep
passed singly between files of infantry, or preceded them in a flock
when on the march; indeed, nothing could be more delightful and
innocent than to see a regiment of infantry in heavy marching order,
laden with every conceivable thing they could want for a week,
returning after a cheerful search for an invisible enemy in the suburbs,
to bivouac peacefully among the cabbages in the market-place. Nobody
was ever imposed upon for a moment by their tremendous energy and
severe display; drums might beat, trumpets blow, dragoons charge
furiously all over the Exercier Platz, or suddenly flash their naked
swords in the streets to the guttural command of an officer--nobody
seemed to mind it. People glanced up to recognize Rudolf or Max
"doing their service," nodded, and went about their business.
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