railings, once a rose-tree grew; it is gone now, but a little bit of
evergreen, from a neighboring grave, stretches out its green tendrils,
and makes some appearance; there rests a very unhappy man, and yet
while he lived he might be said to occupy a very good position. He had
enough to live upon, and something to spare; but owing to his
refined tastes the least thing in the world annoyed him. If he went to
a theatre of an evening, instead of enjoying himself he would be quite
annoyed if the machinist had put too strong a light into one side of
the moon, or if the representations of the sky hung over the scenes
when they ought to have hung behind them; or if a palm-tree was
introduced into a scene representing the Zoological Gardens of Berlin,
or a cactus in a view of Tyrol, or a beech-tree in the north of
Norway. As if these things were of any consequence! Why did he not
leave them alone? Who would trouble themselves about such trifles?
especially at a comedy, where every one is expected to be amused. Then
sometimes the public applauded too much, or too little, to please him.
"They are like wet wood," he would say, looking round to see what sort
of people were present, "this evening; nothing fires them." Then he
would vex and fret himself because they did not laugh at the right
time, or because they laughed in the wrong places; and so he fretted
and worried himself till at last the unhappy man fretted himself
into the grave.
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