Especially the old native Viennese always liked to flaunt their linguistic prowess when least expected. After all, in early Vienna, if you did not know a few languages, you could hardly even leave the house.
On the surface, this situation began to improve with the spread of German. In reality, however, because German varied so widely from place to place and exchanges grew ever more frequent, people talking past one another like chickens and ducks became even more common.
The docks were piled high with goods, and the busy workers labored almost day and night without pause. There was always a group of people leisurely fishing by the shore, as though the flood had happened ages ago.
Whenever anyone brought this up, someone would always point at the riverbank supervisor's mansion beyond the dike and say, "He isn't afraid, so what am I afraid of?"
This was a good season for baked almond dumplings. Vienna would always bake some almond dumplings to commemorate the former good king, Ferdinand I.
In fact, many believed Ferdinand I's greatest achievement had been yielding the throne to Franz Joseph I. But people did not have much for which they could blame him, so they commemorated him in this way.
Thus, every afternoon, the scent of almonds and sugar drifted through Vienna's streets. Unlike the other great cities of the world at this time, Vienna had moved its heavily polluting industries out of the urban area long ago; by now, they had even been relocated to other cities.
The bells of St. Stephen's Cathedral rang out, and bells throughout Vienna began to chime in harmony. The ancient tolling always left people feeling dazed, as though even their souls had been shaken.
Vienna had never lacked music, either. Melodious tunes forever floated over the city.
There