There I sat, and there Wolfgang held me with his large
black eyes; and when the fate of one of his favourites was not according
to his fancy, I saw the angry veins swell on his temples, I saw him
repress his tears. He often burst in with 'But, mother, the princess
won't marry the nasty tailor, even if he does kill the giant.' And when
I made a pause for the night, promising to continue it on the morrow, I
was certain that he would in the meanwhile think it out for himself, and
so he often stimulated my imagination. When I turned the story according
to his plan, and told him that he had found out the _denouement_, then
was he all fire and flame, and one could see his little heart beating
underneath his dress! His grandmother, who made a great pet of him, was
the confidante of all his ideas as to how the story would turn out, and
as she repeated these to me, and I turned the story according to these
hints, there was a little diplomatic secrecy between us, which we never
disclosed. I had the pleasure of continuing my story to the delight and
astonishment of my hearers, and Wolfgang saw, with glowing eyes, the
fulfilment of his own conceptions, and listened with enthusiastic
applause." What a charming glimpse of mother and son!
She is one of the pleasantest figures in German literature, and one
standing out with greater vividness than almost any other.
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