de-en  Dt. Lausbub in Amerika, Kapitel 9
Among the railroad romantics.

From Texas northward. - A whimsical life. The cheated swindler of the good city of Guthrie in Oklahoma. - The jargon of the track. - An adventurous year and its influences. - The history of development of his majesty the tramp. - The American vagabond army. - The unemployed. - The tramp. -The romantics. - Longing for Life and Roving Spirit. - President Roosevelt's vagabond ride on the locomotive. - Secret Undercurrants of Modern Adventurism. - Americans in exotic wars. - In the summer freshness of Lucky Water, Arizona. -Of flaming colors and my wife in the moon. - Work!
Scurrying, Billy drove forward. At first they went straight ahead to the north, across northern Texas into Oklahoma, and enormous areas of rolling prairie and sparse woods; always with express trains, on the mail cars' blind platforms.
Once we spent a great night on the cowcatcher of an express locomotive, three, tightly squeezed, holding on to each other; staring at the bright spot that the lantern above our heads cast on the rails. ... The world seemed to be a disembodied pitch-blackness. Only the yellowish-white gleam in front on the tracks revealed the furious movement. As if they wanted to jump at us, the wooden ties, which connected the thin, shining steel rails on both sides, were storming at us. At first, at the edge of the beam of light, in the tapering, the ties looked fine and delicate, like match sticks. Then they became bigger, more massive - huge at our feet. ... It was like a whimsical switch's whirl. Like a gale-whipped magic circle of sparkling rails and darkly shining ties, from little stones and earth and grass bundles; racing towards us, whirling, turning. As if mesmerized, one was bound to stare at the dazzling circle the lantern made, every pebble, each tie stuck into one's mind. At the same time, the shaking and pounding of the mass of steel on which we were huddled, and the whipping air pressure, which painfully pierced the skin like a fine needle, set every piece of clothing on the body fluttering and pressed against the body like a heavy load. And there was silence all around, as if all were silent in front of the darting steel monster on the steel tracks; as if only its noises ruled - - - The dull rumble with the bright metallic sound in between. The noise and rattle. The moaning in the glowing, steam snorting lungs.
The world seemed to exist of steam and smoke and of passing land. Every spark of energy was focused on making progress. Everything else was unimportant. They rode in freight trains because they could then sleep in empty freight cars and thus connect their sleep with the forward hastening. The involuntary pauses (when a conductor or a brakeman caught us, and grinning we exclaimed that we would prefer the honor of the next train) were used to eat, and to make a careful study of the next trains. It was a whimsical life. And the most whimsical at it was the bustle. No energetic merchant could have taken more time and effort from his most important affairs than we had on our futile forward scurrying. In doing so, we risked our necks each day as well!
I was perfectly happy at that time in the continual fever of the newcomer. And it seems to me today as though the defiant energy which this strange life inculcated in one without realizing the indifference to danger and discomfort, the practical adjustment to hard living conditions, which was learned as if in the game - as if it were all the wasted time had been fully worth it ... Life was like a scurrying then through a more or less indifferent world full of different people and the most varied colors, in which the only important thing was the trains on the railroad and we three men. We three people! Never again in my life I had such a feeling of deepest friendship with men as then. What belonged to the one belonged to the others, and the one stood up for the others, with everything that he had and was able. And yet the thin wall of separation remained, which male friendship must have, if it isn't to be simply frère et cochon - the respect of personal things, the discipline of certain courtesies, a kind of respect of one for the others. This peculiar cohesion in a mishmash of mastery and vagabond life is something as memorable to me as Billy himself.
We came to Guthrie in Oklahoma, a city with the typical Western mixture of distinguished villas and modest shacks. Guthrie was then, and is probably still today, what the American calls a wide open town. The concept is simple. Wide open. Everything is allowed in. Gambling dens, open all night; saloons, in continuous operation day and night; profitable condoning of elegantly dressed and energetic painted ladies. Unscrupulous chasing of dollars everywhere. One bar next to the other lined the main streets. ... "To the Cowardly Cowboy" one saloon was named, "The Happiness of Oklahoma" was another; "To the Dead Indian" - "The Seven Whiskey Bliss" - 'The Paradise of Drinks" - "To the Last Shot" - the drinking halls of Guthrie were named. The riders galloped back and forth, their legs in the divided trouser chaps made of buffalo hides, which is the hallmark of the cowboys. The lasso was always attached to the saddle; the heavy revolver dangled around the hips. Pedestrians crowded between the riders; now in the simple flannel shirt and the belt-strapped pants of the West, then in elegant suits and impeccable white linen.
"Lively old town!" muttered Billy.
We stepped into a bar ("To the Grinning Prairie Dog"), and I completely forgot my whiskey at my amazement. There was a twinkling of mirror-disks and polished glasses, and a colossal painting shone between the mirror-disks, a voluptuous woman stretched out on soft cushions. I racked my brain in vain to think of where I might have seen the painting - "Rubens' copy," smiled Billy, "reproduced with some elements of free imagination. You will see that thing a thousand times in just as many saloons. It's a curious example of how very real art and real beauty sometimes goes to the dogs in this strange country.

Then we went to a small hotel, the boarding house, as with its tiny rooms it was proudly named for half a dollar a day; for we combined a very specific purpose with the short stay in the Oklahoma town: taking care of clothes! Billy had his special way to solve the question of clothes. ... Newly purchased clothes included a bathroom and a borrowed iron in the kitchen regions, which gave our toilets elegance again, and above all, through the development of steam during ironing, achieved thorough cleaning of the carbon dust of the railroad. The worn clothes remained behind, of course, because it was impossible for us to carry luggage, even in the most compact form in our everyday life... This was repeated over and over - the ironing scene was a kind of weekly stage in the wandering life, which cost quite a lot of money. But in the small stations later in the southwest, Madame from the boarding house gladly washed and ironed our laundry for a few cents while we waited in our beds.
Half an afternoon we struggled with the ironing work. In the evening after dinner (it was very nice to eat again at a white set table), I suggested hiking through the town.
"Not on your life," Joe grinned quietly. "It doesn't occur to this child at all. For my sake, the devil can take this town!" The nephew of my blessed Aunt Jemima sleeps far too seldom in a bed, to not sleep soundly when he can. Go for a walk if you want to - I'm going to sleep!

"Very sensible!" smiled Billy. "Guthrie is an expensive band aid, my son, and personally I don't like to be with people who throw money around if I can't join in!

"But I just want to go for a walk!" "Then take some money with you!

"But I still have about thirteen dollars, and anyway I don't want to spend any money

"Then go for a walk! Have fun, my boy!

So I angrily left the two sitting and full of curiosity, walked along the main street twinkling with lights in a crowd of cowboys and elegant gentlemen and badly painted ladies. The saloons did not lure me at all. But a poster - depicting a dancer, with the glaring letters printed underneath, "Free entry into this vaudeville!" Seemed just the right thing to me. I entered. Many people sat at round tables, among them strange ladies in fantastic costumes. The pure masked ball! Silk in bright colors everywhere, sparkling false jewelry, painted faces.
Awfully interesting..." I thought to myself.
A waiter (in a dark red flannel shirt and trousers made from Manchester velvet) brought me a bottle of beer, for which he collected half a dollar, which I thought was expensive. Then the stage curtains opened, and a fat blonde croaked a popular song - "When the bells go tinge-ling-ling We'll join hands and sweetly we shall sing: There'll be a hot time In the old town – Tonight, my darling - tralala..." The tingling bells and the sweetly sung promise that today the devil would be going to the old town seemed to make a deep impression on the audience, for they were roaring with pleasure and trampling with their heavy boots in horrible droning. The devil in the town also had to have a mystical connection with the blond's lacquer boots, for she pointed to them continually. Then she danced a bit and took many terrible bows, and then another young lady removed her. But I didn't hear them at all, for - the fat blonde came out from behind the curtain and steered straight to my table. She sat down beside me!
I would have liked best to run away!!
"What a dry feeling you have in your throat after singing!" she said, with a voice that sounded almost rusty.
"Bottle of beer?" the waiter in the red flannel shirt asked, putting two bottles down without waiting for an answer. The tingeling lady grabbed a bottle and a glass, then the other bottle – and in a jiffy the beer was on the way to its destination. She had to be really very thirsty!
"Foreigner?" she asked. "Yes? You'll find that here is what's going on! You bet!

And then the man in the red flannel shirt brought two bottles again and the young woman neighbor to my left promptly emptied one completely and half of the other.
"I have to sing again now," she said and stood up. "I'll come right back.

But the suspicion dawned on me that it was I, the poorest person, who had to pay for these beers, and in true mortal fright of the lady's thirst, I called the waiter over.
"Four bottles of beer?" "Sixteen dollars!" said the man in the red shirt.
"What?" "Sixteen dollars – you are probably a foreigner? Come along with me. We will explain it to you!

And like a sheep going to the slaughterhouse, I was led to the courtyard where another man (who wore a blue flannel shirt) came up to us. There was whispering between the red and the blue shirts. "Correct!" said the blue shirt. "Sixteen dollars. Everyone knows that. Well, let's say ten dollars instead of sixteen - I am not that way!

"I don't have so much money on me!" I said furiously – and in mortal fright because the man in the blue shirt carried a huge revolver on his belt.
"Then Tommy here will go with you to get it," the blue shirt decided... I almost would have paid, but then we were already on the street, the red shirt and I.
"Which hotel?" "M–m–m..." I muttered and turned left. I boiled with rage over the scam. And suddenly I knew it: the hell I would pay! At the dark corner of the next street I stopped: "Just go back – I have no money. You are swindlers!

And at the same time, I pushed the man in the red shirt with both my fists against his chest, so that he rolled to the ground, and I ran around the corner, as fast as my feet wanted to carry me. Behind me a shot rang out – another, three times...I turned a corner again, running straight ahead in the dark, running every which way. Only after a half an hour did I venture into the main street and snuck cautiously into the hotel, into Billy's room . Trembling with excitement, I turned the electric light on and woke him.
"What's the matter?" he asked squinting. "Oh - you! Plundered, hey? Every centavo gone, hey? But this is not so important, to wake me!"

I reported in a mad rush, and his eyes grew bigger and bigger.
"Man! Slapped down the young man - ducked out ..." and he laughed obsessively, rolling around in his bed with pleasure. He laughed like a madman!
"Oh god, oh god," he groaned, "we'll go over to Joe!" "Hi Joe!" Joe got up. ...
"Hey Joe - Ed went into a vaudeville, with a free entrance fee, you know by now, four dollars a bottle of beer - didn't pay, couldn't, no, didn't want to - went outside with the waiters, gave the waiter biff-biff, ran away, oh Lord , I'm still laughing myself to death! The beer - the fat blonde - the waiter was shooting ... I'm really dying of laughter!!

At first Joe did not understand. But as he understood the context, he literally neighed. ...
"Is this grass-green Ed," he finally blurted out, "and picks a quarrel with the shrewdest swindlers of this fine city! He had luck!! The waiter was shooting? ... This demonstrates once again, that a revolver isn't as dangerous as it looks! ... And now we commend us, I figure! ...

Bill nodded, still laughing, and shortly he told me, that Guthrie in Oklahoma, after this intermezzo, was definitely an unhealthy place for me. The two gentlemen in the red and blue flannel shirts were probably going to organize a keen search for me! We left the hotel yet in the night (I was terribly embarrassed about the story), hurrying on a long detour to the train station to avoid the dazzling, brightly illuminated main street and traveling on a boring freight train to the northwest. In Guthrie, the Santa Fe railroad branched off sharply, over to its vast main line, thousands of miles long, which went through the northeasternmost part of Texas that was squeezed into Oklahoma Territory, through New Mexico, Arizona and California to San Francisco.
Forward – always forward...From Kiowa (which was just across the Kansas state line, and so we had touched three of the biggest American states in two weeks!) it went south again, into a sunny land of sand and prairie and mountains glimmering in the distance. We traveled very fast. The stations were usually small, and we could often use a single express train for ten, indeed twelve hours. At almost every station we met hikers, or sometimes jobless persons, sometimes typical tramps; sometimes going east, sometimes going west like us. Seldom did we exchange more than a few brief words with them because the man from this stretch of the tracks is taciturn. They usually asked about distances; more often about the exact travel times of the local freight trains and the fast, non-stop express freight trains. The jargon of the "road," of this stretch of the tracks, was short and crisp and full of oddities. Never were you called something other than "Jack" by these wandering people whom you met at the water casks of the train stations, as if this was the collective first name for everyone who crawled and escaped to the railroad.
"Hello, Jack!" "Hello yourself!" "'rauf oder runter?" (Hinauf meant "west"; hinter meant "east"!)
"Up!
"Hm, you are taking the next 'express,' no?
(This means, that the express goods train is due). "Better watch out – a hundred miles back they stopped moving and had us kiss the ground in the middle of the train route.
(This meant, that the tramps were discovered and thrown out of the train at slow speed). "By any chance, did you see whether the local has empty boxcars? Yes? That's alright. Mach's gut, Jack!

These were such specialised terms. The tramps never spoke of their destination, but they simply traveled up or down the line." The giant railway lines of the country designated them as something old-fashioned only with the initial letters: SF (Santa Fe) UP (Union Pacific) SP (Southern Pacific) or with nicknames, such as the famous Kate, as the Kansas and Texas Railroad was called. They called trips jumping, hoping; stations they didn't designate by name, but said: next stop, second, fifth stop up or down the line. To travel in a freight car was called an empty jump; on the mail: car the blind jump ... Spoofing like the railway expressions was even their whole language, a degenerate English. As if they had to adapt their speech to their own circumstances, for almost everything looked tattered, ragged, dilapidated. "Poor devils," Billy used to say. "They are poor devils and silly devils! And even when things are going really badly . . . the last bit of money is never allowed to be spent on food, but must be used on the outward appearance! . . . The clean coat is always the bridge to the things of life. It gives external equality with every human being. Whoever doesn't keep his coat clean is a fool!

Town after town passed by. Every day brought new excitement, something new hasten forward to. And every day took us hundreds of miles further. From the shallow valley depressions were enormous gorges, gigantic in breadth, into the rocky mountain country, which towered up to the horizon; a land of sand and stones, a land of crystal clear, dry sunny air, which afforded the view penetrating an immeasurable distance forward - New Mexico. In a few days we crossed the state. Then we came to the area of Arizona.

In recollection of the times there of my speeding on the railroad tracks of the United States, it is as if every detail was indelibly buried in my brain, like a colorful mosaic, shaped from pebbles sprayed with color. None of the pebbles lost their splendor in the fifteen years which have since elapsed. Things stand out more sharply in the recollection than they might have been in the light-hearted experience; more clearly, more distinct in their strong influence on the development and growth of the person. In good and evil. I learned defiance in my wandering experience; the fierce desire to reach a certain goal only because I wanted it, whether it was small or large. Indifference to money, which indeed could signify only a little to the man who saw such indescribable beauty in a harsh, dangerous scurrying forward that hunger and hardship were taken laughing into the purchase. Perishable carelessness for life, oddly combined with strength. I've learned to dream as one can only learn in solitude, when the passing hours are indifferent nothingness. See, I've learned So many people and so many rapidly changing pictures passed by the wanderer that he learned to see people and things - in more than mere understanding of the country and the people. And I picked up the humor of myself in that year of traveling; the hilarious laughing about my own folly and my own weaknesses because it was wiser to smile than to cry when things hurt too much. So the one year for me has never become something to forget.
A year of wandering among the romantics of the railroad ... The growth and development of the immense North American Union was so colossally rapid that the era of the railroad followed without interruption the period of the path-finding riders and the rustic covered wagons drawn by horses and mules. The urgent need for rapid development simply switched off the traffic phase of well-kept country roads. Thus the weak, the lazy, and the unemployed were pushed onto the railroad tracks; for there were country roads only in the East for the wandering traveler, while in the West the few roads were not only badly planned, but completely unplanned; leading from farm to farm, perhaps to a small town, as required by the immediate needs of the nearest inhabitants. The straight line, the nearest route from place to place, and the only way that surely led to larger cities, was then and still today the railroad. From tie to tie, thus on the railway track, the wanderer walked along his vagabond route, marching from town to town until he found work, or the small alms petering out drove him further. The obvious thought occurred to one of these vagabonds, as a freight train rattled by him, that it would be much nicer to ride than to walk. ...
He saw the door of an empty freight car standing open, grabbed desperately, clung on, pulled himself up and sat comfortable in the freight car. ... He did not run anymore. He goes by train!
This clever man was the originator of American vagabonds going by railway. ...
He was the ancestor of the American tramp, as it has been for five decades and will still be for one or a maximum of two decades. Instead of the boring and laborious moving forward "trampling" from the railroad tie to railroad tie, Mr. Tramp in reality was now using the rail line. There were no railway stations and careful route monitoring and not on the enormous American railways: they required, however, official materials that would make any operation unprofitable. In the small stations there were only one or two station officers who had no time to worry about the drifters on the rails, and even in the big cities, it was easy to sneak into the chaos of a freight station. Mr. Tramp thus didn't have such a difficult task. ... He drifted around the stations, playing hide and seek with the officials, looking for an empty freight car and climbing into the train as the train started moving. If he was discovered and driven off at the next station, he waited in philosophical serenity for the next train.
Bye and bye he became more daring and more and more got appetite for this beautifully cheap railroad which took him from state to state with such speed. If they locked the empty freight cars, then he climbed onto the roof of the cars or rode on the buffers, holding tightly onto the bars of the walls of the car. Soon he jealously had an eye on express trains and discovered that he could even travel on the express! They jumped onto the first car, and certainly at least it was usually a respectable stretch to the next station. If a conductor actually discovered him and wanted to have him arrested, Mr. Tramp jumped off while the train was still moving and was long gone before the solitary station policeman even understood what it was about. ...
Of course, the railroader fought back. As intelligent dollar-hunting Americans, the brakemen of the freight trains blackmailed small monetary contributions from the vagabonds whom they caught in their cars; even sometimes beat, often only to be beaten themselves. If a crime was committed on a section of railroad, then periods of ruthless intervention against the railroad vagabonds followed. Thus, many a poor devil Tramp had been thrown out of a speeding train by brutal railwaymen in the middle of a journey. ... He broke his neck, all the worse for him. Nobody cares two hoots about it. Very soon, however, the great railway companies realized that a strong action against the tramps had very unpleasant consequences for them - all sorts of railway property, indeed even trains, was destroyed by the evil elements among the wanderers, vindictive companions. Finally, the companies said that it was better to close one eye, than to let a pile of valuable new railroad ties be lit on fire by irritated wanderers. A system of a half acquiescense began, which still governs today. A toleration, that sometimes doesn't lacks certain comedy. Thus, in many towns in the West it has become the custom not to lock up a panhandling tramp who is annoying the upright townsfolk and thereby avoid feeding him at public expense for more or less a long time. Oh, no! Mister Sheriff takes Mister Tramp by the collar, leads him to the freight station and forces him with his revolver to fly the coop on the next freight train. And so the town is rid of Mister Tramp - and the other towns can take care of themselves.
The wandering life in the United States is unique in its kind.
On the rails of the enormous land skitters an army of vagabonds, thousands of men whose number rises and falls with the economic conditions of the country, swelling immensely in times of unemployment crises. In its composition, this army is infinitely varied, - so different that a world of thought and character may separate two men who are sitting in the same freight car. In these differences there is a romanticism, which even in the United States few people ever suspect. The folk economist, who is concerned with the dreadful state of affairs of tramps, must generalize out of necessity and turn his attention exclusively to the social side. The romance will escape him.
The most innocent of individuals in the American vagabond army, who are most easily seen by their motives, is the unemployed, who in the hard times and from the lack of work in the city seek their fortune elsewhere. If he still has spare change in his pocket, or is already destitute and in rags, he is never a vagabond in the true sense of the word, but always remains the worker, to whom the wandering, thus the railroad, is only a means to an end, quickly leading him to new job opportunities.
With the Tramp, the actual American vagabond, he has nothing in common. Then the real tramp is a workshy journeyman. The American who has a keen eye, especially for those human weaknesses that are unsympathetic to his troubled, restless, industrious nature, has correctly recognized the nature of the tramp when he calls him "Weary Willy" and "Tired Jack" - "the tired Willy" -"the dead tired Jack"! Among them are people who have suffered the cruel hardship of the labor market in such a way that they no longer want to participate in it, perhaps no longer are able; sick and physically weak, whose labor value is low; weaklings who are so frightened of the hardships of life and hardship of physical labor that they prefer to lead a miserable, wretched life of begging than to venture into the workaday world - weak and poor, weaklings, and the useless, unable to meet the demands of the times. Their fate is hard. Much harder than hardest work. As good as the average American is, he has so little understanding in his practical thinking for the strange desire of a man to want to eat without working. A good farmer's wife may be moved by the miserable story of a tramp, giving him a meal; but when her husband comes, he will tenderly give Mister Tramp an ax in his hand, and lead him fondly to the pile of wood in the yard: So, first of all my boy, work a little! The European craftsman, who takes copper pieces from house to house, would be utterly amazed in Yankeeland, so related Mr. Tramp, and he may well be. But Mr. Tramp is an especially grotesque character. His strange railroad life is highly ruinous for clothes. New clothes he can't buy for himself. He becomes external to the grotesque distortion of a human's. The toes look out of the boots. The tattered trousers with the many spots, to be held by a rope around the body. His coat, heavily maltreated with rain and sunshine and carbon dust, shimmers and shines in all possible dark shades; the crumpled hat displays unintentional comedy. A weeks old stubble beard on their faces. And around his shoulders Mister Tramp carries his own trademark, the old tin can, which he needs to boil his coffee or to boil the potatoes, which, in the most extreme distress, ramble into his pocket from farmland fields ... But besides the job-seekers and begging tramps, there is, to a small fraction, of course, a different element in the American army of wanderers; people, so grotesque, so grandiose in the generosity of their gypsies, so peculiar that they represent sort of a riddle of modern American life. Romantics of the railroad, I would like to call them, the people among whom and with whom I lived for a year. Their life is naked romantics, a romantics that takes place on the railroad tracks.
No weakness, not being beat in the struggle of life drives them to wander, but only their own adventurous spirit, a dull longing for a life that lies outside the conventional, the average. They wear decent clothes, and they don't want to be given anything. They do not beg.
Thus the romantics of the railroad go from east to west, from south to north, over vast areas. They don't stay long in one place. As soon as money jingles in their pockets, an indescribable restlessness prevails over them, even though the work may be very rewarding, even if their living conditions may still be very pleasant. A poster, a newspaper notice gives the external impulse – the beauties of California are described or something interesting about Arizona is reported. Then grab the modern gypsy's great mood. He who is perhaps in Chicago or in Denver must immediately, this instant, without delay, travel to California or to Arizona! It whips him forward with irresistible force. He doesn't have the slightest thing to look for in California or in Arizona; in fact, he is more than indifferent to the two states. He will probably turn back immediately. A hollow yearning is, in truth, what drives him, an overpowering wanderlust, which must have a destination, on which the obsession is complete, to which, however, the goal in itself means nothing!
I want to go to California as soon as possible! I have to go to Arizona straight away!!
A man with an aim accept no other claims but this aiml! He only eats once a day, is often hungry, freezing, hardly sleeps - onward - just onward. He bears unheard of discomforts, risks his life a hundred times over - ever onward. Upon the platforms of the mail cars he hurries to his destination, on the cowcatcher of the locomotive, and occasionally he climbs on a freight train (which he despises! ), travels on the express, pressing himself tightly against the arched roof of a Pullman car, every second in serious danger of being hurled down. Just onward! I knew men who, if every other means of traveling failed, laid a little board over the two thin iron bars, which were mounted between the axles of a sleeper car, crouched down on the board and thus traveled long distances under the car! Every method is fine with him, but ever onward. If a conductor spots him at the front of the platform, then he climbs onto the roof of a car at the back! His brain is continually working on creating new tricks for swift traveling; every muscle of his body is strained for weeks for the most outrageous methods. There is something poetic in this strange longing to go across wide spaces, something primordial, something indescribably adventurous. A mixture of vagabonding and energy, of mysterious longing desires and sober power.
He is in California, in Arizona. Then work again. Then again new coursing after a new aim!
Incredible rashness lies on such unsteady life, but once more also romantic magic; enticing, alluring. ... About two years ago, I read in the London "Daily Telegraph" a report taken from American newspapers that Theodore Roosevelt – he was then President and on a hunting trip in the West – had made a trip of over a hundred miles from Denver to the West on a special train on the locomotive's cowcatcher. ... He was full of enthusiasm over the hilarious trip with its sensations of levitating in space! How much fun I had then (Teddy still was keen on living the roaring life! ); then - I had exactly taken the same line too. In exactly the same way, on a cowcatcher! However not on a special train, but in absolutely necessary concealment.
But in that amusing recollection is mingled a reckless admiration of the remarkable man of active life, who, among the enormous tasks of his immense position, had preserved the curiosity of life and the power of excitement, ventured to dare a foolish bit vagabonding. Foolhardily! For he who travels on the cowcatcher of a train tooling along at full speed close to the rails, risks his life at every step of the way. A rabbit, running across the rails, is grasped by the wide-reaching framework and prodded with tremendous force, will stun the light-hearted, throw him down; a little bit of the cowcatcher can smash his skull. There is something of a romantic in Theodore Roosevelt, soldier, ex-president, hunter, writer, philosopher, politician. A D'Artagnan within a statesman!
Anyone who devotes himself to fantastic wanderlust, who devotes so much strength and so much tenacity to a mere yearning drive - in this man there are possibilities, even if he may be a respectable bourgeoisie as the embodiment of reckless madness. As episodic you have to understand the life of these men! A small outward impulse often directs their strength into ordered paths. Or a great experience - the woman who played no part at all in the manhood of her great youth. But as long as they lead their life, their adventures are the stuff of legends. Each and every one of them completely different. In addition to the laborious brave head, which is, the educated man wanders with his disciplined brain, dogged neurasthenics next to thoughtless recovery; but they are all adventurers. They are on the lookout for anything that sounds like a chance for adventure. ... They know each other, they see, they hear, they make friends here and there. The Americans who play such decisive roles in South American revolutions are drawn from the romantics of the railway tracks. The great adventurer, the soldier of fortune, who lends his sword to those who own the South American gold, knows his people. He only has to whisper a tiny word in New Orleans or Galveston to an old friend of the railroad tracks, and in three weeks he has recruited his people. The news gets around like lightning, without a word reaching the ears of those people who would blab. ...
I have often in three, four sentences - for these people are taciturn - heard them talk about things that made me disbelievingly rub my eyes. One of them knew Cuba inside out and grinned about the bad marksmanship of the insurgents; the other remarked incidentally that he wanted to go to Haiti once again; the third was in a big hurry to get to San Francisco for he "knew a man there who might perhaps put up some money for an expedition to search for gold." ... Restlessness was an integral part in all of them. One of them became the leader of workers at the Panama Canal, a job that needs a tough adventurous spirit; the other dies as a soldier of fortune, shot dead somewhere in South America; another one takes up service with arms smuggling, which spreads to all parts of the world where rebelling minorities are fighting. ... I am only hinting at that - for the mysterious undercurrents of modern day adventurism cannot be traced. I know that I will be accused of over exaggeration. But I would like to mention a fact which is not unknown to newspaper readers, well-known to the man familiar with international relations: in every modern war, adventurers from the United States play a vital part, at least in the 'exotic' wars. The ammunition supply of the Boers was provided by American men and by American mules. Adventurers from all over the world fought in their ranks as officers and soldiers but almost all of them also spoke English, and indeed, American English. In the Russo-Japanese war, the operation of the blockade runners, who supplied Port Arthur with war materials, was largely in American hands. It was only recently that I read in the "Berliner Tageblatt" the laconic wire message: "In Guatemala the revolutionaries, led by Americans, are pushing forward against the capital.

The support of Mexican insurgents by American adventurers is well known.
These are possibilities of this modern romanticism, which I must mention, because they sharply illuminate a period of hidden life of our time, but they may not be generalized; they must be interpreted as intimations, perhaps as a stimulus to the few who know how to contribute their mite to portray this life.
And the romantics of the track must die. It may take ten years, twenty perhaps. Then the railroad tracks of the gigantic land under the banner of the stars will be guarded and locked up as in old Europe, and those who wander out of passion will be a thing of the past. Only the begging tramp wandering country roads and the ranks of the unemployed will remain. The adventurer must die when the great masses enter who bring order and system with themselves,. That's good. And yet - one would like to be able to look dreamily into the future.. What will become of the Grand Seigneur of glorious, free advances? Don't you feel any relationship to my foolish, restless idealist, you humans in the age of flying? You, who you yourselves live hurrying and rushing! Only you are, no, we are clever and wise, for those times of bygone youth belong to us, for we create values ​​in skittering, and my friends of the railroad created nothing but momentary exhilaration. They were dreamers even if they didn't know it. ... One must love them in memory; to the longing that lived in them ... In Arizona it was.
At dawn the express train stopped for a few seconds at a tiny little station. Billy jumped off and ran toward the water barrel. We followed him as a matter of course. And then the train roared on once again.
"What's the matter with you?" Joe asked indignantly. ... "Now the damn train has fortunately left. Nobody saw us - we could as well have stayed on it. ...

"Be quiet!" smiled Billy, squatting down against the water barrel. "Children, above all we have to determine how much money we still have. Hand your money over.

He was counting. "- 42 Dollars. Now listen: this sunny Arizona sand has beauties of which you suspect nothing; it is a quiet speck of the world in which you can play and laugh once again. Let's stay here for a while! ...


" Magnificent old idea!" murmured Joe.
But I was only surprised. The fun trip through the four states had already taught me to marvel without asking much. Soon after sunrise, we went over to the tiny station hut, stepped into the agent's room, and with an absolute truthfulness which under the circumstances was almost comical, Billy explained to the man what he wanted. He was almost speechless with astonishment.
"You want to stay here?"... he finally stuttered. " In this damn sandpit?


Billy explained once more to him that we were definitely not tramps, but only restless journeymen who indeed would spend no money on such foolish things as tickets, but would otherwise pay cash for everything – "I know, I understand that!" grumbled the agent – and that we wanted to live an inexpensive life for a few weeks.
"Summer resort! You don't yet understand ?" Billy smiled.
"The craziest idea that has occurred to me in my life," said the agent, grinning. "But it works. It really works!


And it worked. Mrs. Jack Parker, a chubby widow who owned the largest of the fourteen wooden houses of the station, would gladly provide us three men with lodgings and food for twenty days in exchange for an advance cash payment of twenty-five dollars. ... It was dirt cheap. Now I couldn't hold back any longer: "This is a fairytale!" I said to Billy.
"It sure is," he said jubilantly and his eyes glistened. "They shall be twenty fairy tale days, too, just as improbable and just as beautiful as a real fairy tale. Hm - nonsense. What a child you still are! .... Cheap days for cheap tranquility these are – nothing more!" And he laughed merrily... The station was called "Lucky Water" – Glückswasser. It and the fourteen cabins behind it owed their existence to the tremendously deep artesian well next to the station cabin that the Santa Fe long ago had to have drilled because the distance between the two closest stations was too far for the locomotives to be able to travel across without water. The well provided water so abundantly that it had been possible to construct a simple irrigation system and grow vegetables and raise cattle in the middle of the desert. ... So the fourteen little houses got built. And every evening the express freight train took the baskets of vegetables and the milk cans with it to the next big town. They were simple people, the people of Luck Water, who probably considered us to be a little crazy but still harmless.
I won't forget Lucky Water in this life.
From the edges of its green speck of garden desolate sand stretched far and wide and steel-blue masses of rocks shimmered towards the North. Day in and day out, the glowing sun burned down from the deep blue sky in which a little cloud was never to be seen. The dry hot air was of indescribable clarity and transparency. Far distant objects seemed within one's reach. ... And sand, sand everywhere: sometimes gleaming white, sometimes deep brown. ... Tough, rusty grass grew in small individual patches, and tiny cacti with thorns as hard as iron grew everywhere, hardly peeking out from the sand. That was our playground. We three men behaved like children . We often lay for many hours in the hot sand and smoked and chatted. ... The usually so silent Billy was able to devote the whole year to the most absurd plans with true pleasure and to tell us enthusiastically: Wild ride to San Francisco! Then, the three of us should rent a cheap little room and work as if possessed. Anything - And save like Russel Sage! (That was a notoriously stingy New York billionaire who once said it was a sin to carry more than a dollar in cash. In the bank, the money earns interest too!) Every fool could save money, if he wanted to save that as a fixed idea, Billy claimed. And if we had any money, we would make our way to Honolulu, work there and learn the language of the South Seas. Then buy and sell and import on a small scale and become rich ... Or: through Galveston to New Orleans, to Mobile and further on to Florida. From there themselves joined the Cuban insurgents. For an American revolver with an American behind is worth its weight in diamonds . '' But that indeed is blankety blank nonsense! !"that's how Billy's long speeches always ended. "Right now the world is beautiful and that's enough. If we have any time left, we can get rich from time to time - !


Racing, we ran across the hot sand. No day went by without boxing, in which Billy was a master. In the desert of Lucky Water, I learned to fight with my hard fists, in agility and calm, which triumphs every time over brute force. I felt the upper cut from underneath on the chin, which fells even the strongest man, unconscious; the blow to the chest cavity, which brings the recipient down, gasping for air. ... We mutually slugged each other until every spot on our torsos burned like fire - and were blissfully happy about that. ...
Then the evening of silence outside in the sand! When in the west, the fireball immersed into the land in a red glow, the sky remained deep blue for seconds. ... Then came the color fairy tale. A gleaming magenta stripe glowed deep down on the horizon, glittering green at the edges with golden rays on the sides until in an indiscernible change, purple became dark violet, and pale green crept over the sky and disappeared with the blue tones and absorbed the violet. And then, like a lightning stroke, deepest dark. ... Blue-black masses of shadows, in which it glittered fine, very fine. More and more distinct became the little points of light, and before we knew it, it was blazing up there in the unfathomable blue infinity of millions of brilliant white beauties – in a twinkling, a dancing, a flickering, as if an immense drizzle of white light had to fall down in the next instant upon the earth.
And for hours on end, I often stared at the moon; to my wife in the moon, of whom I wouldn't have said anything else in the world to the two others. My wife in the moon! At the very bottom at the right edge of the disk of light was the beginning of the bust and the slender neck, from which, in fine shadows, the little head grew with massive, deep-dark hair. The woman leaned far back as if staring into the splendor of the stars. ... Above the lips, bright and dark lunar patches formed a man's head in an indistinct outline, bending down kissing.
Dream upon dream came, one castle in the air after another rose up and melted away in longing brooding. ... Mine were the castles in the air, as it must be in the dreams of youth. How easy it was to bring down power and wealth and beauty from the stars and return home: Here I am - I! And to scatter gold and to put on the officer's colorful coat, which from my earliest childhood had signified life's dream to me. So they lived happily ever after – both of them – then the picture of the old duke's castle fluttered into the dreams, and the lucky devil of dreamer wandered hand in hand with the girl in indescribable bliss … "You can use us!" Billy smiled so apropos of nothing on the morning of the last day. "Mr Agent was kind enough to send us a telegraph!
"Who needs us?" said Joe startled.
"The repair department of the Santa Fé sixty miles west. Haven't you noticed the freight trains with the new railroad ties that have come through here in the last few days? ...
"Railroad work?" Joe groaned. "Oh my blessed aunt Jemima! Billy - that is' - - no, Billy that is dreadful
"We have to work, my son, and if you find work in southern Arizona, you're smarter than me. So do not cry!
"Pooh devil!" Joe said with overwrought an heart. "Pooh - devil - !!
Billy smiled.
"Well," he meant, blinking blithely, "that is something like beautiful poetic justice, my son. Otherwise we have the railroad - now the railroad has us!"
unit 1
Unter den Romantikern des Schienenstrangs.
3 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 2
Von Texas nordwärts.
1 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 3
– Ein wunderliches Leben.
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 4
– Der betrogene Betrüger der guten Stadt Guthrie in Oklahoma.
5 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 5
– Jargon des Schienenstrangs.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 6
– Ein abenteuerliches Jahr und seine Einflüsse.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 7
– Die Entwicklungsgeschichte seiner Majestät des Tramps.
1 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 8
– Die amerikanische Vagabundenarmee.
4 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 9
– Der Arbeitslose.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 10
– Der Tramp.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 11
– Die Romantiker.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 12
– Lebenssehnsucht und Wandertrieb.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 13
– Präsident Roosevelts Vagabundenfahrt auf der Lokomotive.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 14
– Geheimnisvolle Unterströmungen modernen Abenteurertums.
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 15
– Amerikaner in exotischen Kriegen.
1 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 16
– In der Sommerfrische von Lucky Water, Arizona.
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 17
– Von flammenden Farben und meiner Frau im Mond.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 18
– Arbeiten!
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 19
Hastend trieb Billy vorwärts.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 22
Die Welt schien körperloses, schwarzes Dunkel.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 23
Nur der gelbweiße Schein da vorne auf dem Schienenstrang barg rasende Bewegung in sich.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 26
Dann wurden sie stärker, massiver – riesengroß zu unseren Füßen.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 27
Es war wie ein wunderlicher Hexenwirbel.
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 32
Das Rauschen und Rasseln.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 33
Das Stöhnen in den glühenden, dampfschnaubenden Lungen.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 34
Aus Dampf und Rauch und jagender Bewegung und vorbeihuschendem Land schien die Welt zu bestehen.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 35
Jeder Funke Energie konzentrierte sich auf Vorwärtskommen.
3 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 36
Alles andere war gleichgültig.
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 39
Es war ein wunderliches Leben.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 40
Und das wunderlichste daran war die Geschäftigkeit!
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 42
Dabei riskierten wir auch noch täglich die Hälse!
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 43
Ich war wunschlos glücklich damals in dem fortwährendem Fieber des Neulings.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 45
Wir drei Menschen!
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 51
unit 52
Der Begriff ist simpel.
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 53
Weit offen.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 54
Alles darf hinein.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 56
Skrupellose Dollarjagd überall.
4 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 57
Eine Bar neben der andern säumte die Hauptstraßen.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 60
Am Sattelknopf hing stets der Lasso; an einem Riemen um die Hüften baumelte der schwere Revolver.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 62
»Lebendiges altes Städtchen!« brummte Billy.
4 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 66
Du wirst das Ding noch tausendmal sehen in ebensoviel Salons.
5 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 69
Billy hatte seine besondere Art, die Kleiderfrage zu lösen.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 74
Den halben Nachmittag plagten wir uns mit der Bügelarbeit.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 76
»Not on your life,« grinste Joe gemütlich.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 77
»Fällt diesem Kind hier gar nicht ein.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 78
Meinetwegen kann der Teufel das Städtchen holen!
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 80
Geh' spazieren, wenn du willst – ich schlafe!
3 Translations, 6 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 81
»Sehr vernünftig!« lächelte Billy.
3 Translations, 6 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 83
»Ich will aber nur spazierengehen!« »Dann nimm Geld mit!
3 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 84
unit 85
»Dann geh' spazieren!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 86
Viel Vergnügen, mein Junge!
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 88
Die Salons lockten mich gar nicht.
3 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 90
Ich trat ein.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 92
Das reine Maskenfest!
3 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 93
Seide in grellen Farben überall, funkelndes falsches Geschmeide, bemalte Gesichter.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 94
»Furchtbar interessant …« dachte ich mir.
3 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 100
Neben mich setzte sie sich!
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 101
Am liebsten wäre ich davongelaufen!!
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 105
Sie mußte wirklich sehr durstig sein!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 106
»Fremder?« sagte sie.
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 107
»Ja?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 108
Werden finden, daß hier 'was los ist!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 109
You bet!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 111
»Jetzt muß ich wieder singen,« sagte sie und stand auf.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 112
»Komm' gleich wieder.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 114
»Vier Flaschen Bier?« »Sechzehn Dollars!« sagte der Mann im roten Hemd.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 115
»Heh?« »Sechzehn Dollars – Sie sin' wohl 'n Fremder?
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 116
Kommen Sie mit, wir werden 's Ihnen erklären!
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 118
zu uns trat.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 119
Ein Flüstern zwischen rotem und blauem Hemd.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 120
»Correct!« sagte das blaue Hemd.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 121
»Sechzehn Dollars.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 122
Das weiß jedermann.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 123
Well, sagen wir zehn Dollars statt sechzehn – ich bin nich' so!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 126
»Welches Hotel?« »M–m–m …« murmelte ich und bog links ab.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 127
In mir kochte alles vor Wut über die Gaunerei.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 128
Und plötzlich wußte ich es: Den Teufel würde ich bezahlen!
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 130
Ihr seid Schwindler!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 134
Zitternd vor Aufregung drehte ich das elektrische Licht an und weckte ihn.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 135
»Was ist los?« fragte er blinzelnd.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 136
»Oh – du!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 137
Ausgeplündert, heh?
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 138
Jeder Centavo fort, heh?
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 139
Aber das ist doch nicht so wichtig, um mich zu wecken!
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 140
In fliegender Eile erzählte ich, und seine Augen wurden immer größer.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 141
»Mann!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 143
Er lachte wie ein Verrückter!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 144
»Achgottachgott,« stöhnte er, »gehen wir zu Joe hinüber!« »Du – Joe!« Joe fuhr empor.
4 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 146
Das Bier – die dicke Blondine – der Kellner hat geschossen … ich sterbe wirklich vor Lachen!!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 147
Joe begriff zuerst nicht.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 148
Als er aber den Zusammenhang verstand, wieherte er förmlich.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 150
Ein Glück hat er!!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 151
Geschossen hat der Kellner?
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 152
Das beweist wieder einmal, daß ein Revolver lange nich' so gefährlich is' wie er aussieht!
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 153
Und nun empfehlen wir uns, kalkulier' ich!
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 159
unit 160
Wir reisten sehr schnell.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 165
Der Jargon der "road", des Schienenstrangs, war kurz und knapp und voller Eigentümlichkeiten.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 168
»Hinauf!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 169
»Hm, ihr nehmt die nächste "Schnelle", nich?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 170
(Das bedeutete den fälligen Eilfrachtzug.)
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 172
(Das hieß, daß die Tramps entdeckt und bei verlangsamter Fahrt vom Zuge geworfen worden waren.)
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 173
»Habt ihr vielleicht gesehen, ob der Lokale leere boxcars hat?
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 174
Ja?
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 175
Das is' allright.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 176
So long, Jack!
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 177
Das waren so Fachausdrücke.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 182
»Arme Teufel,« pflegte Billy zu sagen.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 183
»Arme Teufel sind's und dumme Teufel!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 1 month ago
unit 185
Der saubere Rock ist stets die Brücke zu den Dingen des Lebens.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 186
Er gibt äußere Gleichberechtigung mit jedem Menschen.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 187
Wer sich den sauberen Rock nicht bewahrt, ist ein Narr!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 188
Städtchen auf Städtchen huschte vorbei.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 189
Jeder Tag brachte neue Aufregung, neues Vorwärtshasten.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 190
Und jeder Tag führte uns Hunderte von Meilen weiter.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 192
In wenigen Tagen durchquerten wir den Staat.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 193
Dann kamen wir auf das Gebiet Arizonas.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 195
Keines der Steinchen verlor in den fünfzehn Jahren, die seitdem nun verflossen sind, seinen Glanz.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 197
In Gut und Böse.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 200
Verderblichen Lebensleichtsinn, sonderbar gepaart mit Kraft.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 202
Sehen hab' ich gelernt!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 205
So ist mir das eine Jahr etwas nie zu Vergessendes geworden.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 213
Er lief nicht mehr.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 214
Er fuhr!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 215
Dieser kluge Mann war der Urvater eisenbahnfahrenden amerikanischen Vagabundentums.
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 220
Mister Tramp hatte also gar keine so schwere Aufgabe.
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 228
Die Eisenbahner wehrten sich natürlich.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 232
Brach er sich den Hals, um so schlimmer für ihn.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 233
Jedenfalls krähte kein Hahn danach.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 236
Ein System halber Duldung setzte ein, das noch heute regiert.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 237
Eine Duldung, die manchmal gewisser Komik nicht entbehrt.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 239
Oh nein!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 241
unit 242
Das Wanderleben in den Vereinigten Staaten ist einzig in seiner Art.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 247
Die Romantik wird ihm entgehen.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 250
Mit dem Tramp, dem eigentlichen amerikanischen Vagabunden, hat er nichts gemein.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 251
Denn der wirkliche Tramp ist ein arbeitsscheuer Geselle.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 254
Ihr Los ist hart.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 255
Viel härter als härteste Arbeit.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 259
Nur ist Mr. Tramp eine besonders groteske Figur.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 260
Sein eigenartiges Eisenbahnleben ist höchst ruinös für Kleider.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 261
Neue Kleider kann er sich nicht kaufen.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 262
So wird er äußerlich zur grotesken Verzerrung eines Menschen.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 263
Aus den Stiefeln gucken die Zehen hervor.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 264
Die zerfetzten Hosen mit den vielen Flecken hält ein Strick um den Leib.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 266
Im Gesicht wochenalte Bartstoppeln.
4 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 269
Ihr Leben ist nackte Romantik, eine Romantik, die sich auf den Schienensträngen abspielt.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 271
Sie tragen anständige Kleider und sie lassen sich nichts schenken.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 272
Sie betteln nicht.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 274
Sie halten es nicht lange aus an einem Ort.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 277
Da packt den modernen Zigeuner die tolle Laune.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 279
Es peitscht ihn vorwärts mit unwiderstehlicher Gewalt.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 281
Wahrscheinlich kehrt er sofort wieder um.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 283
Ich will so schnell als möglich nach Kalifornien!
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 284
Ich muß schleunigst nach Arizona!!
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 285
Ein Mann mit einem Ziel, dem nichts etwas gilt als dieses Ziel!
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 286
Er ißt nur einmal im Tag, hungert oft, friert, schläft kaum – vorwärts, nur vorwärts.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 287
Er erträgt unerhörte Beschwerden, riskiert hundertmal sein Leben – immer vorwärts.
4 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 290
Nur vorwärts!
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 292
Jedes Mittel ist ihm recht, aber immer vorwärts.
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 293
Entdeckt ihn ein Kondukteur vorne auf der Plattform, so klettert er hinten auf ein Waggondach!
2 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 296
unit 297
Er ist in Kalifornien, in Arizona.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 298
Dann wieder Arbeit.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 299
Dann wieder neue Hetzjagd nach neuem Ziel!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 303
Wie hab' ich mich damals amüsiert (Teddy hatte doch immer etwas übrig für brausendes Leben!
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 304
); denn – über genau die gleiche Strecke war auch ich gefahren.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 305
In genau der gleichen Weise, auf dem Kuhfänger!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 306
Allerdings nicht auf einem Spezialzug, sondern in höchst notwendiger Verborgenheit.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 308
Tollkühn!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 312
Ein D'Artagnan in der Hülle des Staatsmannes!
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 314
Als Episode muß man das Leben dieser Männer auffassen!
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 315
Ein kleiner äußerlicher Anstoß lenkt oft ihre Kraft in geordnete Bahnen.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 317
So lange sie aber ihr Leben führen, sind sie Abenteurer de pure sang.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 318
Grundverschieden einer von dem andern.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 320
Sie lauschen auf alles, was nach Abenteuermöglichkeit aussieht.
2 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 321
Sie kennen sich untereinander, sie sehen, sie hören, sie erwerben sich Freunde hier und dort.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 328
Unrast haust in jedem von ihnen.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 331
Ich weiß, daß man mir den Vorwurf der Übertreibung machen wird.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 337
Die Unterstützung der mexikanischen Insurgenten durch amerikanische Abenteurer ist ja wohlbekannt.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 339
Und die Romantiker des Schienenstrangs müssen sterben.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 340
Zehn Jahre mag es noch dauern, zwanzig vielleicht.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 342
Übrig bleiben wird nur der landstraßenwandelnde, bettelnde Tramp und das Heer der Arbeitslosen.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 343
unit 344
Das ist gut so.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 345
Und doch – man möchte träumend in die Zukunft schauen können.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 346
Was wird aus dem Grand Seigneur glorreichen, freien Vorwärtsstürmens?
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 348
Ihr, die ihr selbst hastend und hetzend lebt!
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 350
Sie waren Träumer, wenn sie es auch nicht wußten.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 351
unit 352
Der Schnellzug hielt im Morgengrauen, wenige Sekunden lang, an einer winzig kleinen Station.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 353
Billy sprang ab und rannte auf das Wasserfaß zu.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 354
Natürlich folgten wir ihm.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 355
Und da brauste der Zug auch schon weiter.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 356
»Was hast du denn?« fragte Joe empört.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 357
»Jetzt ist der verdammte Zug glücklich weg.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 358
Hat uns ja kein Mensch gesehen – hätten ruhig weiterfahren können!
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 359
»Sei still!« lächelte Billy und kauerte sich am Wasserfaß nieder.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 360
»Kinder, vor allem müssen wir feststellen, wieviel Geld wir noch haben.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 361
Gebt einmal euer Geld her.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 362
Er zählte.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 363
»– 42 Dollars.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 365
Hier wollen wir ein wenig bleiben!
3 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 366
»Grandioser alter Gedanke!« murmelte Joe.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 367
Ich aber wunderte mich nur.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 368
Die Hetzfahrt durch die vier Staaten hatte mich schon gelehrt, zu staunen, ohne viel zu fragen.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 370
Der war fast sprachlos vor Erstaunen.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 371
»Hier bleiben wollt ihr?…« stotterte er endlich.
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 372
»In diesem verdammten Sandloch?
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 374
»Sommerfrische!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 375
Verstehen Sie denn nicht?« lachte Billy.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 376
»Die verrückteste Idee, die mir in meinem Leben vorgekommen ist,« meinte der Agent grinsend.
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 377
»Aber es geht.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 378
Es geht wirklich!
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 379
Und es ging.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 381
Es war spottbillig.
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 382
Nun konnte ich mich aber nicht mehr halten: »Dies ist ein Märchen!« sagte ich zu Billy.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 383
»Ist es auch,« jubelte er und seine Augen leuchteten.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 385
Hm – Unsinn.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 386
Welch' ein Kind Sie doch sind!
3 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 390
So waren die vierzehn Häuschen entstanden.
2 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 393
In meinem Leben vergess' ich Lucky Water nicht!
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 396
Die trocken heiße Luft war von unbeschreiblicher Klarheit und Durchsichtigkeit.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 397
Weit entfernte Gegenstände schienen zum Greifen nahe.
5 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 398
Und Sand, überall Sand; bald glänzend weiß, bald tiefbraun.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 400
Das war unser Spielplatz.
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 401
Wie Kinder gebärdeten wir drei Männer uns.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 402
Viele Stunden lang lagen wir oft im heißen Sand und rauchten und schwatzten.
3 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 404
Dann sollten wir drei ein billiges Zimmerchen mieten und arbeiten wie besessen.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 405
Irgend etwas – Und sparen wie Russel Sage!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 407
In der Bank verdiene das Geld doch Zinsen!)
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 408
Jeder Narr könne Geld sparen, wenn er das Sparenwollen zur fixen Idee mache, behauptete Billy.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 411
Von dort aus sich den kubanischen Insurgenten angeschlossen.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 413
!« so schlossen immer Billys lange Reden.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 414
»Augenblicklich ist die Welt wunderschön und das genügt.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 415
Wenn wir einmal übrige Zeit haben, können wir ja gelegentlich auch reich werden –!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 416
Wettrennen liefen wir über den heißen Sand hin.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 417
Kein Tag verging ohne Boxen, in dem Billy ein Meister war.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 421
Dann die Abende des Schweigens draußen im Sand!
4 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 423
Dann kam das Farbenmärchen.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 425
Und dann, schnell wie ein Blitzschlag, tiefstes Dunkel.
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 426
Schwarzblaue Schattenmassen, in denen es fein, ganz fein aufglitzerte.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 429
Meine Frau im Mond!
3 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 431
Weit lehnte sich das Weib zurück, als starre es in die Sternenpracht hinein.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 434
Mein waren die Luftschlösser, wie es sein muß in den Träumen der Jugend.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 438
»Mister Agent war so liebenswürdig, zu telegraphieren!
4 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 439
»Wer kann uns brauchen?« sagte Joe erschrocken.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 440
»Die Reparatursektion der Santa Fé sechzig Meilen westlich.
2 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 442
»Eisenbahnarbeit?« stöhnte Joe.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 443
»Ach du meine selige Tante Jemima!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 444
Billy – das is' – – nee, Billy das is' gräßlich.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 446
Also weine nicht!
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 447
»Pfui Deibel!« sagte Joe aus gequältem Herzen.
6 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 448
»Pfui – Deibel –!!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 449
Billy lächelte.
4 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
unit 451
Sonst haben wir die Eisenbahn – nun hat die Eisenbahn uns!«
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 year, 2 months ago
anitafunny • 6239  commented on  unit 17  1 year, 2 months ago
DrWho • 8447  commented on  unit 14  1 year, 2 months ago
Merlin57 • 3754  commented on  unit 439  1 year, 2 months ago