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IX
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Interlude: A Boy Clerk in Old Vienna
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now
I will leave the glamorous subject of precious stones for a moment to
talk of the lad that was I. This is not pure egoism, I think, for those
times
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have
an interest for the present generation, just as the locale of
Vienna—now that the spirit and heart of Old Vienna have gone for ever
and will never be the same again whatever happens—casts a magic spell
as of a legend over those who hear its glamorous name.
Little
had my life in those times to do with Imperial Tokay or romantic
gypsies. It had, on the contrary, much to do with a counting-house. For
two years after my father's death I went to a commercial school and
fitted myself, in my own estimation, for a business career. Such was my
mother's plan. I myself intended to be a lawyer, and indeed, by the
time I was twenty I had, by great efforts, obtained the degree of
Doctor of Law at the University of Vienna, but my destiny was to be
otherwise.
I also went on learning English. Instead of Miss Pope, I had now to rely on books. Ollendorf was my teacher,
76
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