Hoffmann Sandman（霍夫曼睡魔）.pdfVIP

E. T. A. Hoffmann (1776-1822) Laugh at me, I beg of you, laugh with all your heart. But, oh God! my hair stands on end, and it is in mad despair that I seem to be inviting your laughter, as Franz Moor did Daniels in Schillers play. THE SANDMAN But to my story. Excepting at dinner-time I and my brothers and sisters used to see NATHANEL TO LOTHAIRE my father very little during the day. He was, perhaps, busily engaged at his ordinary profession. After supper, which was served Certainly you must all be uneasy that I have not written for so according to the old custom at seven oclock, we all went with my long - so very long. My mother, am sure, is angry, and Clara will mother into my fathers study, and seated ourselves at the round believe that I am passing my time in dissipation, entirely forgetful of table, where he would smoke and drink his large glass of beer. Often her fair, angelic image that is so deeply imprinted on my heart. Such, he told us wonderful stories, and grew so warm over them that his however, is not the case. Daily and hourly I think of you all; and the pipe continually went out. Whereupon I had to light it again with a dear form of my lovely Clara passes before me in my dreams, burning spill, which I thought great sport. Often, too, he would give smiling upon me with her bright eyes as she did when I was among us picture-books, and sit in his arm-chair, sil