They had a supper such as the boy had missed for some time; a great
platter of cold boiled meat, and a bowl of hot gravy, and another bowl
of mashed potatoes, with no end of bread and butter. Also there was
some kind of a German pudding, and to the stranger's dismay, a pitcher
of beer in front of Johann. After offering some to his guests, he
drank it all, and also he ate a vast supper. Afterwards he dozed,
while Friedrich played yet more wonderful music, and this gave Samuel
a new insight into the life of the family, and into the wild and
terrible longing that poured itself out in Friedrich's tones. The
father was good-natured and sentimental, but sunk in grossness; and
the mother was worn out with the care of her brood, and beneath all
this burden the soul of the boy was crying frantically for life.

The exigencies of trade demanded endless variety of designs in carpets
and rugs, and so all day Johann Bremer stood in front of a great sheet
of cardboard, marked off in tiny numbered squares, on which he painted
with many colors. For this he received thirty dollars a week, and his
son received twelve dollars as his assistant--painting in the same
colors upon all the squares of certain numbers, and so completing a
symmetrical design. It was a very good job, and Johann prodded his son
to devote his energies to the evolving of new designs. But the boy
hated it all--thinking only of his music. And his music meant to him,
not sentimental dreaming, but a passionate clutch into the infinite, a
battle for deliverance from the bondage of the world. So Johann
himself had been in his youth, when he had become a revolutionist, and
before beer and gravy and domesticity had tamed him.

No one said a word about these things. It was all in the playing. And
now and then Samuel stole a glance about the room and discovered yet
another soul's tragedy. Sophie, too, was drinking in the music, and