Page:The Jail, Experiences in 1916.pdf/96

 "Ah yes, a portion of smoked meat, greens, dumplings", said the sergeant rapturously.

"No, first of all fish, a portion of soused fish, then roast meat with potatoes, braised onions on the roast meat, after that chicken with preserved fruit—at Meisl's and Schadn's they have splendid preserves—a glass of Pilsen beer with it, no, I'd have two at once put in front of me, and some pudding."

"Don't tantalize me! I'll kill you", Mr. Goldenstein threatened with comical desperation—but the comical part was put on, and the despair under it was genuine.

The man who was so enthusiastic about a copious supper was named Fröhlich, Abraham Fröhlich according to the jail records, but Adolf Fröhlich was the name above his shop and the one by which he was known in Viennese society. Also a censorist.

"Pooh—I don't long for freedom" declared Hedrich convincingly. “As long as Mr. Dušek and you (this was meant for me) are here, I like it."

"I'm quite satisfied here too", observed Mr. Kretzer, "if I were to leave to-day, I should be in the trenches within 24 hours, and that's not at all to my liking. If only there was enough to eat here."

"Yes, to eat", several hungry persons agreed. For at noon, in addition to an intolerably peppered water-soup, potatoes had made their appearance on the kneading-board. These potatoes had been thoroughly overboiled, and in the resulting pulp there were clots of baked flour, containing an intolerable addition of paprika. Nobody ate anything. Hedrich pronounced dreadful curses on the captive Russian, "an Asiatic who is head cook here, a fellow with slanty Chinese eyes, who takes good care to look after his own table." Everybody had eaten up his portion of bread (the soldiers received half a loaf, the civilians a fifth), the week's rations were consumed.