62
PARTISAN REVIEW
tion for
his
wretched sleep in that yesterday evening he departed from
his usual habits, and had neither smoked nor drunk
his
brandy.
If
I once-and this is the upshot of his reflection-if I once
miss
my
smoke and brandy, I sleep badly.
From now on he intends to take better care of his comfort, and
begins
by taking some batting from the medicine chest hanging over
the night table and stuffing two little wads of it into his ears. Then he
stands up and takes a trial step. The balls follow, of course, but he
scarcely hears them; another bit of wadding makes them completely
inaudible. Blumfeld takes a few more steps forward; it goes without
any particular inconvenience. Each for himself, then, Blumfeld as
well as the balls; they are bound to one another, to be sure, but they
do not disturb each other. Only when Blumfeld turns round once
more quickly than usual and one of the balls is not quick enough in its
counter-movement, he hits it with his knee. That is the only accident.
For the rest, Blumfeld drinks his coffee quietly-he is as hungry as
though instead of sleeping the night before he had made a long jour–
ney-then washes in cold, uncommonly refreshing water and dresses
himself. Till now he has not raised the curtains very high, but from
caution preferred to have it gloomy; he has no particular need to see
the balls. But now that he is ready to take
his
leave, he must make
some kind of provision for them in case they should dare-he hardly
believes they would-follow him into the street. For this he has a
good idea; opening the big clothes closet, he stands with his back to it.
The balls, as though they had a suspicion of what he intends, are wary
of the inside of the closet, and use every little space lying between
Blumfeld and the threshhold, bouncing into the closet for a moment
when it is safe, but instantly rushing out again before the darkness. By
no means are they to be maneuvered over the sill and farther into the
closet; they would rather violate their duty and stay at his side. But
their little tricks will not help them, for now Blumfeld himselNteps
backward into the closet and they must follow regardless. This clinches
matters, for on the floor inside lie various little objects, such as shoes,
boxes, and small chests, which are all-for the first time to Blumfeld's
regret-very neaty arranged, but which still hamper the balls seri–
ously. And now, when Blumfeld, who has meanwhile almost closed the
door, bounds out with a leap such as he has not attempted for years,
slams the door behind him and turns the key, the balls are trapped.
"So, it succeeded," he thinks, wiping the sweat from his face. What ·a
racket the balls are making in the closet! It sounds as if they were
desperate.- Blumfeld, on the contrary, is very content. He leaves the
room, and even the empty corridor does him good. He takes the wad–
ding from his ears and finds the noises of the awakening house de-
