German composition : $b A theoretical and practical guide to the art of translating English prose into German · Hermann Lange
Chapter 3
Chapter 163 of 173 · 3 min read
“Our horses we soon found, and we galloped to Ryder’s residence. Lights were produced, and we sat down. We were black, ragged, and dirty. We looked at each other, and, in spite of our miserable adventure, roared with laughter.”
“‘We may laugh,’ exclaimed Tom, ‘but if this adventure becomes known, and we are found out, Cornwall will be too hot for us the next seven years. We have made a pretty night of it. We have lost our money, been obliged to pretend to pray for two long hours, before a great heap of gunpowder, while that grim-faced, ugly, red-capped brute threatened us with an immediate passage into eternity. And our money forsooth must go to build a meeting-house! Bah! It is truly horrible. The old fellow has played the old soldier on us with a vengeance, and we shall be the laughing-stock of the whole country.’”
“The affair was not yet ended. Reports were spread that three men disguised as black demons, with horns and tails, had entered the cottage of ‘The Old Gardener,’ who had not only terrified them, but had frightened them out of a good sum of money, which he intended to devote to the building of a new Methodist meeting-house. It was given out that on the following Sunday ‘The Old Gardener’ intended to preach a sermon, and afterwards solicit subscriptions for the meeting-house, when he would relate the remarkable manner in which he had been providentially assisted with funds for the building. Our mortification was complete. Tom, whose hatred of Methodism was intense, declared he would blow up the meeting-house as soon as it was built. Our curiosity, however, was excited, and we all three determined to hear our adventure of the night related by ‘The Old Gardener,’ if we could contrive to be present without being suspected.”
“Sunday evening arrived. The meeting-house was crammed to suffocation; and with the dull lights then burning in the chapel, we had no difficulty in concealing ourselves. The sermon was short, but the statement of our adventure was related most minutely and circumstantially in the old man’s quaint, homely, and humorous phraseology. This evening he seemed to excel himself, and was exultingly humorous.”
“‘I never,’ said he, ‘saw black faces pray with greater devotion. I have some doubt, however,’ he slily observed, ‘if their prayers were quite heavenward. They sometimes turned their faces towards the door, but a lifting of the flint and steel kept them quiet.’”
“He then added, with a shake of the head and an exulting laugh: ‘But they had not smelt powder like the old soldier they came to rob. No, no; it was a large heap—ay, large enough to frighten old General Clive himself. The candle was lighted, the flint and steel were ready. You may ask, my friends, if I myself was not afraid. No, no, my dear friends,’ shouted he, ‘this large stock of apparent gunpowder was—it was my whole year’s stock of leek (onion) seed!’”
“The whole congregation somewhat irreverently laughed; even the saints almost shouted; many clapped their hands. I was for a moment stupefied by the announcement, but at last could hardly suppress my own laughter.”
“We subscribed to the fund to avoid suspicion, and left the meeting. After the sermon we joined each other, but could not speak. We could hardly chuckle ‘leek-seed,’ and then roared with laughter.”
“It was a good joke, though not exactly to our taste. It has, however, more than once served for subsequent amusement.”
“The chapel was built with the money collected by the gardener. Time and circumstances now induce me to think that there has been no detriment to morality or religion by the erection of the meeting-house, which was afterwards known as ‘The Leek-seed Chapel.’”—ST. JAMES’S MAGAZINE.
APPENDIX.
A. ESSENTIALS OF CONSTRUCTION.



