Berlin Alexanderplatz: The Story of Franz Biberkopf Read Online Free PDF

(we must get air, air, air, and that’s all). “Don’t bother about it. You can let me run along. Didn’t you talk about feet and eyes? I’ve still got them all right. Nobody’s chopped ‘em off for me yet. Bye-bye, gents.”
    And across the narrow, obstructed courtyard he went; the two men looked down the stairs after him. He had his stiff hat down over his face, mumbled, as he stepped over a puddle of gasoline: “Lotta poison. Now for a cognac. The first man who comes along gets one in the jaw. Let’s see, where can I get a cognac?”
    Market dull, later Bears very active, Hamburg depressed, London weaker
    It was raining. To the left in Munzstrasse signs sparkled in front of the movies. At the corner he was unable to pass, the people were standing in front of a fence, then it got very steep, the street-car tracks ran on planks laid across the space, a car was just riding slowly over them. Look here, they are building a subway station, must be work to be had in Berlin. Another movie. Children under seventeen not allowed. On the huge poster a beet-red gentleman was standing on a staircase, while a peach of a young girl embraced his legs, she lay on the stairs, and he stood up above with a leering expression on his face. Underneath was written: No Parents, Fate of an Orphaned Child, in Six Reels. Yes, sir, I’ll take a look at that. The orchestrion was banging away. Price sixty pfennigs.
    A man to the woman cashier: “Say, Fraulein, is it any cheaper for an old territorial without a belly?” “Nope, only for children under five months with a sucking nipple.” “Sure. That’s our age. New-born babies on the instutterment plan.” “All right, make it fifty then, get along in.” Behind him there meandered a young chap, slim of build, with a muffler on: “Hey, lady, I’d like to git in free.” “How do you get that way? Tell your Mommer to put you on the pottie.” “Well kin I get in?” “In where?” “The movie.” “There ain’t no movie here.” “You really mean it, there ain’t no movie here?” She called through the window of the ticket-office to the watchman at the door: “Say, Max, come here a minute. Here’s a fellow wants to know if there’s a movie here. He’s got no money. Go ahead show him what we got here.” “What we got here, young fellow? You ain’t noticed it yet? This is the poor-box, Miinzstrasse division.” He pushed the slim fellow out of the ticket-office, showed him his fist: “If ye want me to, I’ll give ye what’s comin’ to you right off the bat.”
    Franz pushed on in. It just happened to be an intermission. The long room was packed full, 90 per cent men with work-caps on, they don’t take them off. The three lamps on the ceiling are covered with red. In front, a yellow piano with packages on top of it. The orchestrion makes a continuous racket. Then it gets dark and the film starts. A goose-girl is to be given culture, just why, is not made so clear, at least not right in the middle. She wiped her nose with her hand, she scratched her behind on the staircase, everybody in the movie laughed. Franz thought it was quite wonderful when the tittering started up around him. Just folks, free folks, amusing themselves, nobody has a right to say anything to them, simply lovely, and I right here among ‘em! It went on. The high-toned Baron had a sweetheart who lay in a hammock and stretched her legs vertically in the air. The girl had drawers on. That’s something. Wonder why people get so excited about that dirty goose-girl and her licking the platters clean? Again the girl with the slim legs flashed by. The Baron had left her alone, now she toppled out of the hammock, and flopped onto the grass, lay there a long time. Franz stared at the screen, there was already another picture, he still saw her toppling out and lying there for a long while. He gnawed his tongue, hell’s bells, what was that? But when finally the one who had been the goose-girl’s lover