Then, with a Spanish oath learned in the Netherlands, he turned over, still half asleep, on his side.

So Dietel found room, and, after vainly looking for Kuni among the others, gazed out at the starlit sky.
Yonder, in front of the house, beside the tall oleanders which grew in wine casks cut in halves instead of in tubs, the learned and aristocratic gentlemen sat around the table with outstretched heads, examining by the light of the torches the pages which Dr.Eberbach drew forth, one after another, from the inexhaustible folds of the front of his black robe.
Dietel, the schoolmaster's son, who had once sat on the bench with the pupils of the Latin class, pricked up his cars; he heard foreign words which interested him like echoes of memories of his childhood.

He did not understand them, yet he liked to listen, for they made him think of his dead father.

He had always meant kindly, but he had been a morose, deeply embittered man.

How pitilessly he had flogged him and the other boys with hazel rods.