The Death of the Tavern Keeper’s Wife
Leopold Kompert
1848
With every stone that was set in the new barn, another drop of life seemed to ebb from the wife of the randar or tavern keeper. When she looked out at the building, she often said that she would not eat the bread that would come from it next summer. Sometimes she was not able to leave her bed for several days. Moritz crept away with tears in his…
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