Summer with Tucholsky – the last page

My job – I am a second lighthouse guard on the small Ostseeinsel Achnoe, and the nights are long – my job is forcing me to read a lot and extensively. I am not worried about new books – I get it from my friend, Mr. Andreas Portrykus, the night editor of the “Ray Dear of General Anzeiger” (with accident insurance). He gives me all review copies, and so I read everything at night after night: novels and travel descriptions and delicate, sensible stories from noble women’s hands, and what you read.

And when the wind bumps into the thick slices when my Burgundy punch steams on the table, the brownish tobacco grims and I am again happy to have got this post again – then it happens that I start reading the books from behind out of scattering and a good mood, just as you can nibble out the raisins from a cake. And then I came to the discovery that the conclusions of all the many books can be grouped significantly in different ways. There are normal connections that keep returning: the author may have fallen from the moon, at the end he reflects on his noble humanity and talks German.

I read four pounds of books again tonight – I still remember some things. I want to try it once.

The entertainment novel that has success

“… I’ve felt it for a long time,” whispered Helene. “But you only brought it to me. Now I’m really starting to live. ” – Edgar pulled her to herself …

This is how the hours would be through without notice. Then they walked together over the dawn in the evening, on which the spicy smell of the young potatoes mixed with the sweet scent of the roses.

Edgar Helmenberg led his boy to the house on the hill. The moon opened. He took her hand. “Do you see the moon?” He said strongly.

“But I want to give you the sun!” – and banned she whispered: “The sun!” –

The entertainment novel that is unsuccessful

It was all out. Kuno stood on the shards of his modest happiness. Why the misfortune for him? Why right him? And the others? Ingrimmically, he clenched his fists – and then let his hands sink again.

They pulled there; as she had laughed, his – yes! – Gertrud. Doctor Holtzenheimer had money and was a brisk guy …

The long love, the advertisements so many years – everything in vain. Then he collapsed and broke the rose in his pocket …

Professoral travel description

This is how it ends my beautiful and educational journey into the Sonnenland Egypt. She showed me a lot of new things and expanded my knowledge group. But she has also proven to me how the German is well -suffered everywhere today when he only defends his place in the sun. May the booklet give its readers entertainment and stimulating instructions so that they also move out into the vividal country of the Nil and the kings of Ramses and Ramsenit!

It may also be noted that the middle toadstool mentioned on page 154 has also been observed in Germany. According to a message Schaedler, a teacher in Meißen found and also determined one teacher in Meißen.

Modernity around 1900

“Soul,” he whispered. Then a shot popped. The scareed -in house residents were messing up – protectors were paving a way through the crowd. The man in the hallway was dead. His blood seeped through the left sleeve onto the light blue and greenishly checked stone tile floor and betrayed in the dusty joints in gins …

Old book

“May you,” said the clergyman, his all present, deeply moving speech, “the dear God bless the covenant, which two so powerful families have closed through their children!”

What else should I tell? – Eduard and Kunigunde became a happy but children -rich couple; The old stroke was buried and forgotten. Outside, however, the guard whistles for the twelfth hour, let me delete the light, inclined reader! Good night! –

The right boy book

(“The campfire in California”)

“Rogue!” The Mestice crunched. A knife flashed in his hand – but the old trapper stretched it down with a huge stroke. A short bump – then everything was over.

The old trapper led the caravan to the next big city of S., then he went back to his wasteland. “I don’t need a thank you,” he said. “I just did what was right.”

Franz and Miss Armstrong, the heiress of the gold find, became a couple and lived happy and satisfied.

The waiter Fritz got a profitable position in San Francisco, which he still held today.

No one has heard of the sneaky Don Pedro. He was lost.

The old Indian Hefrakorn received the grace bread from Krafts. Franz Kraft has become an old man and children and grandchildren play around his knees. But if he sits around the round table with his still beautiful wife, children and the old Indian, then they probably often commemorate the

“California campfire”.

Yes, the inclined reader will always say: This is all very nice and nice – but how is a book conclusion? All of them do not like the Lighthouse guard …

I have to say that in my twenty -year -old service I only found a really good, honest and motivated book. He was found in a poem book “Spring Votes” by Mr. Hugo Taubensee. The man was – as you could see from the enclosed portrait – postal conductor, but also a poet, one of the frequent connections between businessman and romantic. The publisher was only a businessman.

These “spring votes” ended as follows:

»Notification to the reader!

The author’s collected poems in reality go further. However, because I am not in the average location to buy further paper and also the printing costs, I see myself forced to cancel the poems here. However, if the paragraph of this booklet is a more corresponding one, I want to continue the ‘spring votes’. So readers act in their own interest if they buy the book diligently and recommend it! «

That’s what I mean! From now on I will turn to the beginning more.

The text first appeared in the »Schaubühne« in November 1916.