and was dependent on the financial help of his sisters, who enjoyed a modest comfort. The magistrate had the reputation of having wasted his part of the inheritance like the prodigal son, and his retirement pension as well.
Later,
a niece joined the Misses von Schwingenstein, called Bertha. She stayed in Bamberg for her higher education and fell victim to the oldest Bamberg jokes. When we told her, the stone ox over the slaughterhouse always stood up when the
bell rang for prayers at noon on Good Friday, she would go and stand there to see.
Or
else, we told her that in the church of St. Getreu, there was a tomb of Christ behind the altar surrounded by life sized stone men. If you were to whisper to any of them, "What are you doing there?” he would answer, "nothing." She
thought about this for a whole day then came to tell us; "this can't be true, these men are Hebrew and unable to speak German." One day she was alone with my baby sister Anna and gave the tiny baby a nut to eat. The child nearly choked,
but I came just intime and got, the nut out of her throat. Miss Bertha had her ears boxed by me for this and our friendship rather faded thereafter.
On the second floor above us lived a porcelain painter called Kraemer with his wife
the daughter
of the old Mrs Wiemann. He was a charming quiet man of wide interests and very friendly with my father. They often went to the pub together in the evenings. He repainted our toys and my