The Good Soldier by Ford Madox Ford Read Free Book Online

course, the country isn't really green.
The sun shines, the earth is blood red and purple and red and green
and red. And the oxen in the ploughlands are bright varnished brown
and black and blackish purple; and the peasants are dressed in the
black and white of magpies; and there are great Rocks of magpies
too. Or the peasants' dresses in another field where there are
little mounds of hay that will be grey-green on the sunny side and
purple in the shadows—the peasants' dresses are vermilion with
emerald green ribbons and purple skirts and white shirts and black
velvet stomachers. Still, the impression is that you are drawn
through brilliant green meadows that run away on each side to the
dark purple fir-woods; the basalt pinnacles; the immense forests.
And there is meadowsweet at the edge of the streams, and cattle.
Why, I remember on that afternoon I saw a brown cow hitch its horns
under the stomach of a black and white animal and the black and
white one was thrown right into the middle of a narrow stream. I
burst out laughing. But Florence was imparting information so hard
and Leonora was listening so intently that no one noticed me. As
for me, I was pleased to be off duty; I was pleased to think that
Florence for the moment was indubitably out of mischief—because she
was talking about Ludwig the Courageous (I think it was Ludwig the
Courageous but I am not an historian) about Ludwig the Courageous
of Hessen who wanted to have three wives at once and patronized
Luther—something like that!—I was so relieved to be off duty,
because she couldn't possibly be doing anything to excite herself
or set her poor heart a-fluttering—that the incident of the cow was
a real joy to me. I chuckled over it from time to time for the
whole rest of the day. Because it does look very funny, you know,
to see a black and white cow land on its back in the middle of a
stream. It is so just exactly what one doesn't expect of a cow.
    I suppose I ought to have pitied the poor animal; but I just
didn't. I was out for enjoyment. And I just enjoyed myself. It is
so pleasant to be drawn along in front of the spectacular towns
with the peaked castles and the many double spires. In the sunlight
gleams come from the city—gleams from the glass of windows; from
the gilt signs of apothecaries; from the ensigns of the student
corps high up in the mountains; from the helmets of the funny
little soldiers moving their stiff little legs in white linen
trousers. And it was pleasant to get out in the great big
spectacular Prussian station with the hammered bronze ornaments and
the paintings of peasants and flowers and cows; and to hear
Florence bargain energetically with the driver of an ancient
droschka drawn by two lean horses. Of course, I spoke German much
more correctly than Florence, though I never could rid myself quite
of the accent of the Pennsylvania Duitsch of my childhood. Anyhow,
we were drawn in a sort of triumph, for five marks without any
trinkgeld, right up to the castle. And we were taken through the
museum and saw the fire-backs, the old glass, the old swords and
the antique contraptions. And we went up winding corkscrew
staircases and through the Rittersaal, the great painted hall where
the Reformer and his friends met for the first time under the
protection of the gentleman that had three wives at once and formed
an alliance with the gentleman that had six wives, one after the
other (I'm not really interested in these facts but they have a
bearing on my story). And we went through chapels, and music rooms,
right up immensely high in the air to a large old chamber, full of
presses, with heavily-shuttered windows all round. And Florence
became positively electric. She told the tired, bored custodian
what shutters to open; so that the bright sunlight streamed in
palpable shafts into the dim old chamber. She explained that this
was Luther's bedroom and that just where the sunlight fell had
stood his bed. As a matter of fact, I believe that