Read Online Gertrude by Hermann Hesse - Free Book Online Page B

warm afternoon. Here and there, nuts had fallen belatedly from the trees; the small new houses and gardens were clearly outlined in the sunshine. They were of a simple design that appealed to me. I looked at them with the superficial interest that young people have in these things, when thoughts of house, home and family, rest days and holidays are still remote. The peaceful streets with their gardens made a very pleasing impression on me. I strolled along slowly, and as I was walking, I happened to read the names of the occupants on small bright plates on the garden gates.
    The name “Konrad Lohe” was on one of these brass plates and, as I read it, it seemed familiar to me. I stood still and reflected. Then I remembered that that was the name of one of the teachers at the Grammar School. For a few moments the past rose before me, confronted me with surprise, and a mass of faces, teachers and friends, memories of nicknames and stories danced before me in fleeting waves. As I stood there looking at the brass plate, a man rose from behind a nearby currant bush where he had been bending down at work. He came forward and looked at me.
    â€œDid you want me?” he asked, and it was Lohe, the teacher whom we used to call Lohengrin.
    â€œNot really,” I said and raised my hat. “I did not know that you lived here. I used to be one of your students.”
    He looked at me more keenly, observed my stick, reflected a moment and then pronounced my name. He had remembered not my face but my stiff leg, for he naturally knew about my accident. Then he asked me to come in.
    His shirt sleeves were rolled up and he was wearing a green gardening apron. He did not seem to have grown older and looked wonderfully well. We walked through the small, neat garden, then he led me to an open veranda, where we sat down.
    â€œWell, I would never have recognized you,” he said candidly. “I hope your memory of me has been a kind one.”
    â€œNot entirely,” I said laughing. “You once punished me for something I did not do and declared my protestations of innocence to be lies. It was in the fourth grade.”
    He looked up with a troubled expression on his face. “You must not hold it against me. I am very sorry. With all the good intentions in the world, it continually happens with teachers that something goes wrong and an act of injustice is committed. I know of worse cases. That is one of the reasons why I left.”
    â€œOh, aren’t you still teaching?”
    â€œNot for a long time now. I became ill, and when I recovered, my views had changed so much that I resigned. I tried to be a good teacher, but I wasn’t one; you have to be born to it. So I gave it up and since then I have felt better.”
    I could see that. I inquired further, but he wanted to hear my story, which was soon told. He was not altogether pleased that I had become a musician. On the other hand, he showed great tact by his sympathy for my ill-fortune so that for once I was not offended. He discreetly tried to discover how I had succeeded in finding consolation, and was not satisfied with my half-evasive answers. With mysterious gesticulations, he intimated hesitatingly and yet impatiently, with much bashful circumlocution, that he knew of a solace, of complete wisdom which was there for every earnest seeker.
    â€œI know,” I said. “You mean the Bible.”
    Mr. Lohe smiled mysteriously. “The Bible is good. It is the way to knowledge, but it is not knowledge itself.”
    â€œWell, where is knowledge itself?”
    â€œYou will find it easily if you wish to. I will give you something to read that gives the principles of it. Have you heard of the study of Karma?”
    â€œKarma? No, what is it?”
    â€œYou will find out. Just wait a minute!” He went away and was absent for a short time while I sat there surprised, not knowing what to expect, and looked down the garden where diminutive