Manual Suzies First Filling (PLAQUE PIXIES CHILDRENS BOOK SERIES 4)

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Richard Schmidt, has been practicing dental hygienist for over 15 years and is currently in New York. In he created The Plaque Pixie Children's Book.
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Now Gertie had made her debut in Berlin. Before the train arrived, Herr Prinz made a speech. All of us are forever near and alive in the vibrant harmonies of Mozart and Brahms and Wagner. What a terrible ordeal! Hugo and Liesl were quiet for many miles as the train chugged towardstoward France. One thing they knew; this parting was permanent.

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They would be Americans in America. Hugo stopped reminiscing when a crowd of performers came into the Broadway bar. Memories of Vienna melted as he watched these young people. They had finished their matinee, and were taking a break before the evening performance.

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They shouted for beer and competed for the pickled eggs on the counter. Hugo waved when he saw them. They were regulars at the Paris Garden, a vaudeville theatretheater where he used to work before Arnie hired him for The Criterion. He was fond of them all, particularly the dwarf, Curry, and he would have liked to join them for another beer, but it was time to go home.

He looked forward to going home these days, since Liesl was completely recovered from her troubles, busy with her costumes, and Effie had arrived. He walked jauntily down the street to their apartment building, so imposing against the evening sky. At Number , he bounded up the marble stairs. A light snow was falling outside the fire-lit room.

After supper—lovely cabbage soup and baked apples--—Effie took the children off to bed. Now Liesl and Hugo were alone, sitting in the easy chair next to the fire. Nestled in this chair in the quiet room, they felt as if they were on their honeymoon again. Flitterwochen and honeymoon—both carefree words. Recollecting their glamorous honeymoon was a way they sometimes began their love making.

Now, she rubbed her finger across his straight, thin moustache—so debonair her Hugo—as she conjured up those perfect two weeks. Their Flitterwochen suite at the grand hotel in Baden Baden had had its own parlor. They had married in the fall, as the trees were at the height of fiery color. On the train, in the little compartment they occupied on the way to the resort, they felt as if the forest flying past their window was trying to stage its most flamboyant display for them alone.

They moved through the resort city on jets of helium, so obviously in love that even the cynical restaurant waiters tenderly served them. Tiny Liesl was stunning in golden, rose, and blue dresses fit for a princess. Mama had seen to her trousseau. How many kisses had there been? A million, like the stars, he thought. What perfection! His own beautiful Liesl cuddled here on his lap in their warm home with their two angels asleep upstairs. She had given up the gloomy religiosity so foreign to her happy nature that had kept her captive for many weeks and had come back to him as her own playful self.

He was making a good living for them and would make a better one. Her old father, the volatile and famous violist, had predicted something else. Liesl smiled. Chapter 1: News of the World Those early days in , when Liesl and Hugo first arrived in New York, were revolving scenes of confusing wonder. After the long and glamorous sea voyage, the young couple spent their first week in a hotel—the beautiful Knickerbocker. How delightful it was!

How reminiscent of their honeymoon at Baden-Baden were the thick bed linens, the bulging breakfast buffets, the rides in hansom cabs around the city! They took a tour tailored for German-speaking visitors. The old horse shambled along, pulling the bus with the German tourists and new immigrants clinging to straps or squashed into the basket seats.

AfterwardsAfterward, several of the people on the tour bus ate beer and sausage together in a beer hall. Some of the group had been in New York for months. They were happy to expound on the wonders of the tour, including Union Square. Like the Prater, but impermanent and cheaper. It was a tenement of musicians and actors, just as their rental agent in New York had promised.

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They could hear a horn or piano playing at any time of the day. On their first night they were invited to an Irish wake two floors up and were astonished to see the corpse sitting straight up in a chair with a beer glass tied to his stiffened hand. At first, the Hubers were hard pressed not to laugh when they saw the jaunty corpse; even his hat was askew on his head as if he were a little drunk. The sight of the young widow and children silenced their laughter. Liesl smiled tenderly at the fatherless children.

It was very affecting to think how they and the young woman would have to live on their own in New York without the papa. The Hubers were silent when they left the wake until they reached their own apartment. The minute the door was closed, the two of them turned to each other with tears in their eyes. But then Hugo recalled the sociable corpse, and they had to stifle spasms of laughter. How quickly their mood changed, so operatic and familiar this combination of humor and sorrow.


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They made congenial contacts quickly in the building and among the Viennese colony—-- a large group. One new friend, a cellist, said he predicted that in a couple of years, all of musical Vienna would be in Manhattan. Musicians, which Vienna had been exporting for ten years almost as a national product, played with groups throughout the city—from the lowest beer hall to the highest oOpera hHouse.

Arnie was a talented violinist at the Metropolitan Opera and also a conductor of small orchestras at an array of places including roof gardens, hotels, and vVaudeville houses. Arnie had suggested that the Hammerstein Opera might be an excellent chance.

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In the months of preparation for the move, Hugo with characteristic optimism pictured himself at one or both operas. However, when Arnie visited in their hotel soon after their arrival in New York, he broke the news that the HO was already in financial trouble, and the Met was also out of the question, since there were no openings. Before Hugo could even absorb the news, Arnold was telling him about another employment opportunity: the permanent conductor of a lavish new hotel orchestra,: the Hotel Plaza.

Several days later, Hugo had been interviewed by the manager of the hotel and secured the job. How quickly events happened in America! No more smoothing the way for him! A hotel orchestra! Liesl did a little play about it—first she was Mama, then dear Papa, sneering. If only Papa and Mama could see the Hotel Plaza--—brand new, magnificent! It was the Belvedere Palace.

It was the Grand Hotel at Baden-Baden. He looked beautiful in his brand new tuxedo, supplied by the hotel management. He grew a marvelous moustache—sleek and glossy black. He was a miniature Douglas Fairbanks. As usual, his orchestra liked him. Liesl was welcome at the Hotel Plaza. The manager was a German Jew and took great delight in the Hubers. Cassell was wise to the market.

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Liesl herself was a fine dancer and loved to waltz. She quickly learned some of the newer dances, too, and when she and Mr. Hugo was already an excellent English speaker. His aunt had seen to that.


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Because of his early lessons, he spoke English with a standard British accent—sounding quite aristocratic to the Lexington Avenue merchants. Up and down Broadway, people were dancing—shimmying and twirling and bumping up against each other on the floors of the roof gardens and hotels and lobster palaces. Vienna had come to New York. Liesl and Hugo tried to absorb the dizzying ways of Americans--—including their cultural ignorance. Here Austrians and Germans were classed together in the native American mind in the same way as other immigrant groups. Often, they occupied separate sides of the street in the Italian neighborhood of New York.

Outside the neighborhood, they found themselves in a strange and liberating partnership against the Anglo-Saxons. German was spoken openly on the streets and also in the beer halls and the German theatersTheatres. Germans and their language dominated the Metropolitan Opera. The musically knowledgeable and numerous German operagoers ensured that all the operas at the Met were sung in German, even the Italian ones.

Still, Liesl found it hard to like Germans below superficial courtesy. It was the old trouble she had had when she sang in Cologne. Her mother was a Venetian Jew and father originally Hungarian, and they had taught Liesl to scorn the Germans for their heavy, ponderous ways.

After centuries of exile, the Emperor invited the Jews back to Vienna again, invited them to be fully assimilated citizens.