



Produced by David Widger





THE DEAN'S WATCH

By Erckmann-Chatrian

Translated by Ralph Browning Fiske

Copyright, 1897, by The Current Literature Publishing Company




I

On the day before Christmas of the year 1832, my friend Wilfred, with
his double-bass slung over his back, and I, with my violin under my arm,
started to walk from the Black Forest to Heidelberg. It was unusually
snowy weather; as far as we could see across the great, deserted plain,
there was no trace of road nor path. The wind kept up its harsh aria
with monotonous persistency, and Wilfred, with his flattened wallet at
his belt, and the vizor of his cap drawn over his eyes, moved on before
me, straddling the drifts with his long, heron legs, and whistling a gay
tune to keep up his spirits. Now and then, he would turn around with a
waggish smile, and cry: "Comrade, let's have the waltz from 'Robin,' I
feel like dancing." A burst of laughter followed these words, and then
the good fellow would resume his march