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and asking anything. The Crazy Fox had a different feel. It took several moments to figure out why. Then
it came to him. It was the women! Granted this wasn't a low tavern but somehow the atmosphere was
different from the usual respectable neighborhood tavern as well. There was more . . . vibrancy. Here,
while there were barmaids and a few women who looked like they might be prostitutes, there were many
other women maids, laundresses, common working women, wives of working men, older and younger
women. In fact, he didn't take a count but there seemed to be far more women in the room than men and
they seemed to be in anticipation.
Herr Jenkins was standing near a table with a small mug of beer in his hand. For one with such a
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position, he seemed remarkably accessible. He was joking with the men and women, occasionally
winking humorously. He was not slim but Georg could distinguish a muscular body under his clothing.
Tall, inches taller than Georg, Herr Jenkins didn't act at all like a wealthy landowner's son. Certainly not
the one whose father owned the land Georg's father and brothers farmed. Arrogant snot. Perhaps like
Georg, Herr Jenkins had been thrown off the land.
Then what looked like a rough customer carrying a short quarterstaff walked in. He tapped on Herr
Jenkins' shoulder, said something into his ear and Herr Jenkins followed the man out the door. Since two
or three other young men, all dressed like the local students followed, Georg did too.
Out on the dark street, a young man who'd obviously had too much to drink was singing loudly and
off-key. He wasn't dressed like most of the local workmen but rather like one of the university students.
Herr Jenkins walked over to the young man. Facing him, he put his hands on the student's shoulders. He
softly talked for a short while before hugging the student to his chest and then putting his arm around the
student's shoulders. The two young men walked away towards the city gate.
"What was that all about?" Georg asked the student next to him.
"One of Chip's old students just found out today that he's come into his inheritance," the young man said
blandly. "Kurt was happy to be his own master but on the other hand, he didn't want his father to die.
Besides, this means he'll have to leave the university and go home to manage his late father's estate. So he
was very drunk."
"Oh . . . I didn't know Herr Jenkins was a professor."
"He's not. He's a docent, a teacher at the university, but all of his students are close to him," the other
man said and turned to go back to the tavern.
Half an hour later, the same young man stood up at the end of the tavern. "We're going to start a meeting
of the sanitation subcommittee shortly, so those of you who don't want to learn about why you should
keep flies off your food may leave." Georg looked around him as several workmen grimaced and finished
their meals quickly before leaving. Most of the women on the other hand, took places at the tables
nearest the young man.
Just as Georg stepped into the street behind the departing workmen, Herr Jenkins approached the
tavern. "Uh, Herr Jenkins?" Georg asked, taking off his hat, holding it nervously between his hands.
"Yes?"
"Uh, Herr Jenkins, I, uh, was wondering. I mean, my name is Georg Bauer and I, uh, just started
working here in Jena, uh, digging the ditch for the sewer . . ."
"Go on."
"Uh, Herr Jenkins,I, uh, wanted to know about Grantville. Is it true what they say?" he blurted out. "I
mean, witch . . . no, uh, by some means and uh, lights that . . ."
"Probably," Chip answered humorously. "No streets of silver, though. It would be easier for you to just
go there for a few days than for you to believe what I'd tell you. Not everyone who goes there wants to
stay because of our different customs. It is very different from Jena. If you want to work and are
prepared to change, there are jobs that will pay much more than what you're making now."
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"Uh, thank you, Herr Jenkins," Georg answered quickly. "Uh, I hate to ask but, uh . . ." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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