Carl Adolf von Sydow and Karl Günther Nakszyński

I saw Carl Adolf von Sydow, face reddening, steadying a piece of wood, a shim or a shingle or a truss, as Karl Günther Nakszyński hacked away at it with a broad-axe. The two men, principal actors in they’re own right, were gabbing to one another in German, a Teutonic banter that was ear-deafening. At one point Carl turned to Karl and said, whisperingly, I bet I could beat you at chess, to which Karl said, ‘and I you at staying afloat on a beanpole-raft with a thousand-and-one monkeys’. ‘Would I have to wear a helmet?’ asked Carl. ‘Only if it rains’ said Karl, ‘and then it’s up to you whether to keep it on or not’. The two men, Karl and Carl laughed, shook they’re feet in the air and went back to sawing, Carl steadying, Karl hacking away.