Hunger Read Online Free PDF Page B

had invented, as if it was just an ordinary name, one you could see on any huckster’s sign in town! He never stumbled over a single letter and never forgot a syllable; this name had taken firm hold of his brain and struck root instantly. I felt chagrined, and indignation began to stir in my heart against this person whom nothing could baffle and nothing make suspicious.
    And so I replied, grumpily, “That I’m not aware of; in fact, I’m not aware of that at all. And by the way, let me tell you once and for all that his name is Johan Arendt Happolati, judging by his initials.”
    â€œJohan Arendt Happolati,” the man repeated, surprised by my vehemence. Then he was silent.
    â€œYou should’ve seen his wife,” I said furiously. “A fatter woman—. Or perhaps you don’t believe she was really fat?”
    Oh yes, of course he did—a man like that—.
    The old fellow replied meekly and quietly to every one of my sallies, searching for words as if he were afraid to say something wrong and make me angry.
    â€œHell’s blazes, man, perhaps you think I’m sitting here stuffing you chock-full of lies?” I cried, beside myself. “Per haps you don’t even believe that a man with the name Happolati exists! What obstinacy and wickedness in an old man—I’ve never seen the likes of it. What the hell is the matter with you? Perhaps, on top of everything, you’ve been thinking to yourself that I must be a terribly poor fellow, sitting here in my Sunday best without a well-stocked cigarette case in my pocket? Let me tell you, sir, that I’m not at all accustomed to such treatment as yours, and I won’t stand for it, God strike me dead if I do, either from you or from anyone else. Now you know!”
    The man had gotten to his feet. His mouth agape, he stood there speechless, listening to my outburst until it was over. Then he quickly picked up his parcel from the bench and left, all but running down the path with short old man’s steps.
    I sat watching his back, which gradually receded and seemed to stoop more and more. I don’t know where the impression came from, but it appeared to me that I had never seen a more dishonest, vicious back than this one, and I wasn’t at all sorry that I had given the creature a piece of my mind before he left. . . .
    The day was on the wane, the sun was sinking, a soft rustle arose in the trees round about, and the nursemaids sitting in groups over by the seesaw were getting ready to push their baby carriages home. I was calm and felt at ease. The excitement I had just been through gradually subsided; I slumped over, grew limp, and began to feel sleepy. Nor was the large amount of bread I had eaten doing me any great harm anymore. In the best of moods, I leaned back on the bench, closed my eyes and felt more and more drowsy; I dozed off, and I was on the point of falling fast asleep when a park attendant placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “You can’t sit and sleep in here.”
    â€œNo,” I said, getting up instantly. At one blow my whole wretched situation rose vividly before my eyes once more. I had to do something, come up with some idea or other. To apply for a job hadn’t been any use: the reference letters I presented were old by now and written by people who were too little known to carry much weight; besides, these constant refusals all summer long had made me timid. Well, in any case my rent was due, and I had to find some way to pay it. The rest would have to wait awhile.
    Quite instinctively, I had again gotten paper and pencil into my hands, and I sat and wrote mechanically the date 1848 in every corner of the page. If only a single scintillating thought would come, grip me utterly and put words in my mouth! It had happened before after all, it had really happened that such moments came over me, so that I could write a long piece without effort and get it wonderfully