From: Emmental, Bessarabia 21 January 1912
(The End)
On the evening of that very first December, Mrs. Franziska Monter was sitting with her needlework alone in her room. The marriage protocol was still in her thoughts. The little woman was very irritable and quick tempered, but actually she was good hearted and was ashamed now.
“Did I really say all that? Did I call him such ugly names? No, he really doesn’t deserve them, no, really not. I have enough annoyance from him, more than enough. If he only… if he…well, yes” – the young woman blushed suddenly up to the roots of her hair, -“if he doesn’t do what I want. I really don’t ask anything wrong from him, no, quite the opposite, but…” and with these words of her monologue, Franziska’s bright and lively eyes looked a bit at a loss and she was looking for help on her needle cushion and into her sewing basket.
“But, if he didn’t act according to my wishes, did I have the right to get angry at him and make undeserved reproaches at him? - No.” She looked about the pretty room, which the love of her husband outfitted for her so kindly. There at the window stood her neat sewing table, a gift from Gerhard during the blissful days of their engagement. On one of the shelves at the wall was a row of elegantly bound books by her favorite authors, which he brought as a surprise back from his outings to the town. In the beautiful brass cage in the corner of the room the little canary took his bath. The canary was a birthday present for her last birthday from her husband, because he knew how much she wanted a canary. But the louder every thing reverberated the “No”, the more it crept into her heart, the more she resisted. She thought that only the protocol was to blame for everything.
“Who might have given him that idea? I’m convinced it wasn’t his idea alone. Oh, that bewitched book.” After this heartfelt groan, Franziska sank back into deep thought. She felt that her husband would force her to silence with that protocol and probably wring the slipper out of her hand. That must not and will never happen. What could she do to prevent that terrible possibility? Her view went through the window out onto the street, where it met a stocky man with a merry face walking across the street. It was the economist of the casino, which was visited by her husband quite frequently. The young woman jumped up in haste; her needlework fell to the floor, and she called out triumphantly, “Now I know what I have to do. Come again next time with your marriage protocol.”
The month of December came near to the end. Gerhard Monter carried on with his odd bookkeeping. It was strange; he didn’t fill as many pages as in the month before although he was very careful to get into such discussions with his wife, which were most likely to give him some material for his marriage protocol. He went more often to the coffee house and came home much later from the pub. But no matter how much he wondered about this, there was not much to write into his book. He liked his diary quite well and he was secretly getting angry that there was not much left to write in the book.
The 1st of January arrived. Gerhard in the morning of this day of reckoning fetched his book to have a look at the contents. This time only 18 pages were covered. “Not half as much as last month,” he thought. Noon came. The spouses were sitting during their meal opposite each other and he was secretly watching his wife’s face. She looked as content and cloudless as hardly ever before. He started to complain about too much salt in the vegetables and became terrified about his own bravery because his wife wouldn’t take that without flaring up. But Franziska only shrugged her shoulders and – kept silent.
Gerhard became afraid again. When his wife doesn’t get angry, the effect of the protocol was finished off. He went one step further and dared to declare the meat “absolutely hopeless”. That, of course, annoyed her more since her husband helped himself to a not so good piece of meat on his plate. Her piece was tasty and tender. She restrained her anger and didn’t reply to his remark. Now he could only knock off the saltcellar. An angry glance met his over the table after he tried his last resort with a somewhat unsteady hand, but not a single word came from her tightly closed lips. Gerhard took a deep breath. Well, he had to start the fight himself…
He cleared his throat and let out a not so loud “for heaven’s sake” to brace himself. When even that didn’t stir Franziska, he felt at a loss.
“I will not accept this eternal nagging in my house anymore,” he blurted out. “Did you hear any response from me?” she asked with her softest and smoothest voice, like a bride who saw for the first time a frown on her beloved one’s face.
“Yes, and a thousand times yes again”, he replied and brought out his fatal book again. “Here it is written black on white. Every bad word you gave me I wrote down here. Monday, 1st of December: Nocturnal reveler, deep-rooted boozer, brother light foot.
What a good-for-nothing kind of husband I have.”
Page for page was turned and he was reading himself into a real rage. And now he came to the last page on which he had set his whole hope. “And here… ha, what is that?”
Franziska, against all expectations, didn’t cover her eyes with her apron and didn’t leave the room as she did the last time. She started to laugh quite disrespectfully and said mockingly, “Already finished? It seems to me last month’s lecture was much longer.”
He was speechless and stared at his wife, who suddenly produced a similar book, put it down on the table in front of her and started with the words, “Now it is time for my marriage protocol.”
“Oh well.” Gerhard thought he was dreaming when he heard his wife reading for him his sins. Did he really go so often to the pub in the evenings as she was claiming? Did he really come home so often at 2 a.m. in a single month? Was it right that he had spent in such a short period more than 40 rubles pocket money?
Franziska had finished her reading when he was still staring moodily and silent. Who is triumphant now? The most different feelings were fighting in the young man’s breast.
And slowly it dawned on him that it was also his fault that the harmony between them was not always perfect. A small hand slipped into his own and a kind and gentle voice whispered in his ear, “Now, Gerhard how is it? Shall we carry on with our marriage protocol or shall we make a marriage and life of the kind in which we don’t have to write anything into these books. Look, after all, it was the fault of us both that there was not much peace and comfort in our marriage, but if we really want we should be able to improve that. I promise you, that I will be kind to you in future … and you, maybe you’d stay home more often to spend the evenings with your Ziska?”
Gerhard’s marriage protocol flew into the far corner of the room. He flew into the wide outstretched arms of his wife and the spouses celebrated a good long reconciliation.
Dear Reader:
We all know the human body consists of 165 bones, 500 muscles; the length of the digestive tract is about 10 meters. An adult man has about 15.8 kg (*Editor: one kilogram is about 2 pounds) or the fifth part of his weight. The heart is about 15.7 cm long and is 10.5 cm in diameter. It beats 70 times per minute, 4,200 times per hour, 100,800 times a day and 36,772,000 times a year. Someone who is 70 years old has had 2,565,740,000 heartbeats. On average we take a breath 1,200 times per hour. We take in 600 gallons of air per hour or 14,400 gallons per day. The average weight of the brain of an adult man is 1¾ kg; the weight of the brain of a woman is somewhat less (because they have longer hair). The nerves are either directly connected to the brain or through the spinal marrow. Their number, if you count all the branches, is higher than that of the largest army. Every square centimeter of our skin contains 65 pores, which are in reality tiny short pipes, but all together are 63,365 meters long.
If Gerhard Monter and his wife Ziska had considered the part of their marriage as the parts of the human body are to be regarded to keep the body healthy, they wouldn’t need a marriage protocol. But if such a matter becomes neglected, it takes a long time and much work to straighten it out again.
The weather is today is rainy and warm. I don’t have more news from Emmental to report. Thanks to my colleague Anton Jochim for his greetings for the New Year and also the same to Peter Jochim and his family. I hope to read about them soon again in this paper.
Greetings to all, especially to my sons-in-law Ignatz Gross and Eduard Richter in Morton County, North Dakota!
Respectfully,
Romuald Dirk