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diff --git a/2183-0.txt b/2183-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8391d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/2183-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7414 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL *** + + + + +THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL +by JEROME K. JEROME + + +_Illustrated by L. Raven Hill_ + +A NEW EDITION + +BRISTOL +J. W. ARROWSMITH LTD., QUAY STREET +LONDON +SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT AND CO. LIMITED +1914 + +TO THE GENTLE + +GUIDE + +WHO LETS ME EVER GO MY OWN WAY, YET BRINGS ME RIGHT-- + +TO THE LAUGHTER-LOVING + +PHILOSOPHER + +WHO, IF HE HAS NOT RECONCILED ME TO BEARING THE TOOTHACHE +PATENTLY, AT LEAST HAS TAUGHT ME THE COMFORT THAT +THIS EVEN WILL ALSO PASS-- + +TO THE GOOD + +FRIEND + +WHO SMILES WHEN I TELL HIM OF MY TROUBLES, AND WHO +WHEN I ASK FOR HELP, ANSWERS ONLY "WAIT!"-- + +TO THE GRAVE-FACED + +JESTER + +TO WHOM ALL LIFE IS BUT A VOLUME OF OLD HUMOUR-- + +TO GOOD MASTER + +Time + +THIS LITTLE WORK OF A POOR + +PUPIL + +IS DEDICATED + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Three men need change--Anecdote showing evil result of deception--Moral +cowardice of George--Harris has ideas--Yarn of the Ancient Mariner and +the Inexperienced Yachtsman--A hearty crew--Danger of sailing when the +wind is off the land--Impossibility of sailing when the wind is off the +sea--The argumentativeness of Ethelbertha--The dampness of the +river--Harris suggests a bicycle tour--George thinks of the wind--Harris +suggests the Black Forest--George thinks of the hills--Plan adopted by +Harris for ascent of hills--Interruption by Mrs. Harris. + +"What we want," said Harris, "is a change." + +At this moment the door opened, and Mrs. Harris put her head in to say +that Ethelbertha had sent her to remind me that we must not be late +getting home because of Clarence. Ethelbertha, I am inclined to think, +is unnecessarily nervous about the children. As a matter of fact, there +was nothing wrong with the child whatever. He had been out with his aunt +that morning; and if he looks wistfully at a pastrycook's window she +takes him inside and buys him cream buns and "maids-of-honour" until he +insists that he has had enough, and politely, but firmly, refuses to eat +another anything. Then, of course, he wants only one helping of pudding +at lunch, and Ethelbertha thinks he is sickening for something. Mrs. +Harris added that it would be as well for us to come upstairs soon, on +our own account also, as otherwise we should miss Muriel's rendering of +"The Mad Hatter's Tea Party," out of _Alice in Wonderland_. Muriel is +Harris's second, age eight: she is a bright, intelligent child; but I +prefer her myself in serious pieces. We said we would finish our +cigarettes and follow almost immediately; we also begged her not to let +Muriel begin until we arrived. She promised to hold the child back as +long as possible, and went. Harris, as soon as the door was closed, +resumed his interrupted sentence. + +"You know what I mean," he said, "a complete change." + +The question was how to get it. + +George suggested "business." It was the sort of suggestion George would +make. A bachelor thinks a married woman doesn't know enough to get out +of the way of a steam-roller. I knew a young fellow once, an engineer, +who thought he would go to Vienna "on business." His wife wanted to know +"what business?" He told her it would be his duty to visit the mines in +the neighbourhood of the Austrian capital, and to make reports. She said +she would go with him; she was that sort of woman. He tried to dissuade +her: he told her that a mine was no place for a beautiful woman. She +said she felt that herself, and that therefore she did not intend to +accompany him down the shafts; she would see him off in the morning, and +then amuse herself until his return, looking round the Vienna shops, and +buying a few things she might want. Having started the idea, he did not +see very well how to get out of it; and for ten long summer days he did +visit the mines in the neighbourhood of Vienna, and in the evening wrote +reports about them, which she posted for him to his firm, who didn't want +them. + +I should be grieved to think that either Ethelbertha or Mrs. Harris +belonged to that class of wife, but it is as well not to overdo +"business"--it should be kept for cases of real emergency. + +"No," I said, "the thing is to be frank and manly. I shall tell +Ethelbertha that I have come to the conclusion a man never values +happiness that is always with him. I shall tell her that, for the sake +of learning to appreciate my own advantages as I know they should be +appreciated, I intend to tear myself away from her and the children for +at least three weeks. I shall tell her," I continued, turning to Harris, +"that it is you who have shown me my duty in this respect; that it is to +you we shall owe--" + +Harris put down his glass rather hurriedly. + +"If you don't mind, old man," he interrupted, "I'd really rather you +didn't. She'll talk it over with my wife, and--well, I should not be +happy, taking credit that I do not deserve." + +"But you do deserve it," I insisted; "it was your suggestion." + +"It was you gave me the idea," interrupted Harris again. "You know you +said it was a mistake for a man to get into a groove, and that unbroken +domesticity cloyed the brain." + +"I was speaking generally," I explained. + +"It struck me as very apt," said Harris. "I thought of repeating it to +Clara; she has a great opinion of your sense, I know. I am sure that +if--" + +"We won't risk it," I interrupted, in my turn; "it is a delicate matter, +and I see a way out of it. We will say George suggested the idea." + +There is a lack of genial helpfulness about George that it sometimes +vexes me to notice. You would have thought he would have welcomed the +chance of assisting two old friends out of a dilemma; instead, he became +disagreeable. + +"You do," said George, "and I shall tell them both that my original plan +was that we should make a party--children and all; that I should bring my +aunt, and that we should hire a charming old chateau I know of in +Normandy, on the coast, where the climate is peculiarly adapted to +delicate children, and the milk such as you do not get in England. I +shall add that you over-rode that suggestion, arguing we should be +happier by ourselves." + +With a man like George kindness is of no use; you have to be firm. + +"You do," said Harris, "and I, for one, will close with the offer. We +will just take that chateau. You will bring your aunt--I will see to +that,--and we will have a month of it. The children are all fond of you; +J. and I will be nowhere. You've promised to teach Edgar fishing; and it +is you who will have to play wild beasts. Since last Sunday Dick and +Muriel have talked of nothing else but your hippopotamus. We will picnic +in the woods--there will only be eleven of us,--and in the evenings we +will have music and recitations. Muriel is master of six pieces already, +as perhaps you know; and all the other children are quick studies." + +George climbed down--he has no real courage--but he did not do it +gracefully. He said that if we were mean and cowardly and false-hearted +enough to stoop to such a shabby trick, he supposed he couldn't help it; +and that if I didn't intend to finish the whole bottle of claret myself, +he would trouble me to spare him a glass. He also added, somewhat +illogically, that it really did not matter, seeing both Ethelbertha and +Mrs. Harris were women of sense who would judge him better than to +believe for a moment that the suggestion emanated from him. + +This little point settled, the question was: What sort of a change? + +Harris, as usual, was for the sea. He said he knew a yacht, just the +very thing--one that we could manage by ourselves; no skulking lot of +lubbers loafing about, adding to the expense and taking away from the +romance. Give him a handy boy, he would sail it himself. We knew that +yacht, and we told him so; we had been on it with Harris before. It +smells of bilge-water and greens to the exclusion of all other scents; no +ordinary sea air can hope to head against it. So far as sense of smell +is concerned, one might be spending a week in Limehouse Hole. There is +no place to get out of the rain; the saloon is ten feet by four, and half +of that is taken up by a stove, which falls to pieces when you go to +light it. You have to take your bath on deck, and the towel blows +overboard just as you step out of the tub. Harris and the boy do all the +interesting work--the lugging and the reefing, the letting her go and the +heeling her over, and all that sort of thing,--leaving George and myself +to do the peeling of the potatoes and the washing up. + +"Very well, then," said Harris, "let's take a proper yacht, with a +skipper, and do the thing in style." + +That also I objected to. I know that skipper; his notion of yachting is +to lie in what he calls the "offing," where he can be well in touch with +his wife and family, to say nothing of his favourite public-house. + +Years ago, when I was young and inexperienced, I hired a yacht myself. +Three things had combined to lead me into this foolishness: I had had a +stroke of unexpected luck; Ethelbertha had expressed a yearning for sea +air; and the very next morning, in taking up casually at the club a copy +of the _Sportsman_, I had come across the following advertisement:-- + + + + + +TO YACHTSMEN.--Unique Opportunity.--"Rogue," 28-ton Yawl.--Owner, called +away suddenly on business, is willing to let this superbly-fitted +"greyhound of the sea" for any period short or long. Two cabins and +saloon; pianette, by Woffenkoff; new copper. Terms, 10 guineas a +week.--Apply Pertwee and Co., 3A Bucklersbury. + + +It had seemed to me like the answer to a prayer. "The new copper" did +not interest me; what little washing we might want could wait, I thought. +But the "pianette by Woffenkoff" sounded alluring. I pictured +Ethelbertha playing in the evening--something with a chorus, in which, +perhaps, the crew, with a little training, might join--while our moving +home bounded, "greyhound-like," over the silvery billows. + +I took a cab and drove direct to 3A Bucklersbury. Mr. Pertwee was an +unpretentious-looking gentleman, who had an unostentatious office on the +third floor. He showed me a picture in water-colours of the _Rogue_ +flying before the wind. The deck was at an angle of 95 to the ocean. In +the picture no human beings were represented on the deck; I suppose they +had slipped off. Indeed, I do not see how anyone could have kept on, +unless nailed. I pointed out this disadvantage to the agent, who, +however, explained to me that the picture represented the _Rogue_ +doubling something or other on the well-known occasion of her winning the +Medway Challenge Shield. Mr. Pertwee assumed that I knew all about the +event, so that I did not like to ask any questions. Two specks near the +frame of the picture, which at first I had taken for moths, represented, +it appeared, the second and third winners in this celebrated race. A +photograph of the yacht at anchor off Gravesend was less impressive, but +suggested more stability. All answers to my inquiries being +satisfactory, I took the thing for a fortnight. Mr. Pertwee said it was +fortunate I wanted it only for a fortnight--later on I came to agree with +him,--the time fitting in exactly with another hiring. Had I required it +for three weeks he would have been compelled to refuse me. + +The letting being thus arranged, Mr. Pertwee asked me if I had a skipper +in my eye. That I had not was also fortunate--things seemed to be +turning out luckily for me all round,--because Mr. Pertwee felt sure I +could not do better than keep on Mr. Goyles, at present in charge--an +excellent skipper, so Mr. Pertwee assured me, a man who knew the sea as a +man knows his own wife, and who had never lost a life. + +It was still early in the day, and the yacht was lying off Harwich. I +caught the ten forty-five from Liverpool Street, and by one o'clock was +talking to Mr. Goyles on deck. He was a stout man, and had a fatherly +way with him. I told him my idea, which was to take the outlying Dutch +islands and then creep up to Norway. He said, "Aye, aye, sir," and +appeared quite enthusiastic about the trip; said he should enjoy it +himself. We came to the question of victualling, and he grew more +enthusiastic. The amount of food suggested by Mr. Goyles, I confess, +surprised me. Had we been living in the days of Drake and the Spanish +Main, I should have feared he was arranging for something illegal. +However, he laughed in his fatherly way, and assured me we were not +overdoing it. Anything left the crew would divide and take home with +them--it seemed this was the custom. It appeared to me that I was +providing for this crew for the winter, but I did not like to appear +stingy, and said no more. The amount of drink required also surprised +me. I arranged for what I thought we should need for ourselves, and then +Mr. Goyles spoke up for the crew. I must say that for him, he did think +of his men. + +"We don't want anything in the nature of an orgie, Mr. Goyles," I +suggested. + +"Orgie!" replied Mr. Goyles; "why they'll take that little drop in their +tea." + +He explained to me that his motto was, Get good men and treat them well. + +"They work better for you," said Mr. Goyles; "and they come again." + +Personally, I didn't feel I wanted them to come again. I was beginning +to take a dislike to them before I had seen them; I regarded them as a +greedy and guzzling crew. But Mr. Goyles was so cheerfully emphatic, and +I was so inexperienced, that again I let him have his way. He also +promised that even in this department he would see to it personally that +nothing was wasted. + +I also left him to engage the crew. He said he could do the thing, and +would, for me, with the help of8 two men and a boy. If he was alluding to +the clearing up of the victuals and drink, I think he was making an under- +estimate; but possibly he may have been speaking of the sailing of the +yacht. + +I called at my tailors on the way home and ordered a yachting suit, with +a white hat, which they promised to bustle up and have ready in time; and +then I went home and told Ethelbertha all I had done. Her delight was +clouded by only one reflection--would the dressmaker be able to finish a +yachting costume for her in time? That is so like a woman. + +Our honeymoon, which had taken place not very long before, had been +somewhat curtailed, so we decided we would invite nobody, but have the +yacht to ourselves. And thankful I am to Heaven that we did so decide. +On Monday we put on all our clothes and started. I forget what +Ethelbertha wore, but, whatever it may have been, it looked very +fetching. My own costume was a dark blue trimmed with a narrow white +braid, which, I think, was rather effective. + +Mr. Goyles met us on deck, and told us that lunch was ready. I must +admit Goyles had secured the services of a very fair cook. The +capabilities of the other members of the crew I had no opportunity of +judging. Speaking of them in a state of rest, however, I can say of them +they appeared to be a cheerful crew. + +My idea had been that so soon as the men had finished their dinner we +would weigh anchor, while I, smoking a cigar, with Ethelbertha by my +side, would lean over the gunwale and watch the white cliffs of the +Fatherland sink imperceptibly into the horizon. Ethelbertha and I +carried out our part of the programme, and waited, with the deck to +ourselves. + +"They seem to be taking their time," said Ethelbertha. + +"If, in the course of fourteen days," I said, "they eat half of what is +on this yacht, they will want a fairly long time for every meal. We had +better not hurry them, or they won't get through a quarter of it." + +"They must have gone to sleep," said Ethelbertha, later on. "It will be +tea-time soon." + +They were certainly very quiet. I went for'ard, and hailed Captain +Goyles down the ladder. I hailed him three times; then he came up +slowly. He appeared to be a heavier and older man than when I had seen +him last. He had a cold cigar in his mouth. + +"When you are ready, Captain Goyles," I said, "we'll start." + +Captain Goyles removed the cigar from his mouth. + +"Not to-day we won't, sir," he replied, "_with_ your permission." + +"Why, what's the matter with to-day?" I said. I know sailors are a +superstitious folk; I thought maybe a Monday might be considered unlucky. + +"The day's all right," answered Captain Goyles, "it's the wind I'm +a-thinking of. It don't look much like changing." + +"But do we want it to change?" I asked. "It seems to me to be just where +it should be, dead behind us." + +"Aye, aye," said Captain Goyles, "dead's the right word to use, for dead +we'd all be, bar Providence, if we was to put out in this. You see, +sir," he explained, in answer to my look of surprise, "this is what we +call a 'land wind,' that is, it's a-blowing, as one might say, direct off +the land." + +When I came to think of it the man was right; the wind was blowing off +the land. + +"It may change in the night," said Captain Goyles, more hopefully +"anyhow, it's not violent, and she rides well." + +Captain Goyles resumed his cigar, and I returned aft, and explained to +Ethelbertha the reason for the delay. Ethelbertha, who appeared to be +less high spirited than when we first boarded, wanted to know _why_ we +couldn't sail when the wind was off the land. + +"If it was not blowing off the land," said Ethelbertha, "it would be +blowing off the sea, and that would send us back into the shore again. It +seems to me this is just the very wind we want." + +I said: "That is your inexperience, love; it _seems_ to be the very wind +we want, but it is not. It's what we call a land wind, and a land wind +is always very dangerous." + +Ethelbertha wanted to know _why_ a land wind was very dangerous. + +Her argumentativeness annoyed me somewhat; maybe I was feeling a bit +cross; the monotonous rolling heave of a small yacht at anchor depresses +an ardent spirit. + +"I can't explain it to you," I replied, which was true, "but to set sail +in this wind would be the height of foolhardiness, and I care for you too +much, dear, to expose you to unnecessary risks." + +I thought this rather a neat conclusion, but Ethelbertha merely replied +that she wished, under the circumstances, we hadn't come on board till +Tuesday, and went below. + +In the morning the wind veered round to the north; I was up early, and +observed this to Captain Goyles. + +"Aye, aye, sir," he remarked; "it's unfortunate, but it can't be helped." + +"You don't think it possible for us to start to-day?" I hazarded. + +He did not get angry with me, he only laughed. + +"Well, sir," said he, "if you was a-wanting to go to Ipswich, I should +say as it couldn't be better for us, but our destination being, as you +see, the Dutch coast--why there you are!" + +I broke the news to Ethelbertha, and we agreed to spend the day on shore. +Harwich is not a merry town, towards evening you might call it dull. We +had some tea and watercress at Dovercourt, and then returned to the quay +to look for Captain Goyles and the boat. We waited an hour for him. When +he came he was more cheerful than we were; if he had not told me himself +that he never drank anything but one glass of hot grog before turning in +for the night, I should have said he was drunk. + +The next morning the wind was in the south, which made Captain Goyles +rather anxious, it appearing that it was equally unsafe to move or to +stop where we were; our only hope was it would change before anything +happened. By this time, Ethelbertha had taken a dislike to the yacht; +she said that, personally, she would rather be spending a week in a +bathing machine, seeing that a bathing machine was at least steady. + +We passed another day in Harwich, and that night and the next, the wind +still continuing in the south, we slept at the "King's Head." On Friday +the wind was blowing direct from the east. I met Captain Goyles on the +quay, and suggested that, under these circumstances, we might start. He +appeared irritated at my persistence. + +"If you knew a bit more, sir," he said, "you'd see for yourself that it's +impossible. The wind's a-blowing direct off the sea." + +I said: "Captain Goyles, tell me what is this thing I have hired? Is it +a yacht or a house-boat?" + +He seemed surprised at my question. + +He said: "It's a yawl." + +"What I mean is," I said, "can it be moved at all, or is it a fixture +here? If it is a fixture," I continued, "tell me so frankly, then we +will get some ivy in boxes and train over the port-holes, stick some +flowers and an awning on deck, and make the thing look pretty. If, on +the other hand, it can be moved--" + +"Moved!" interrupted Captain Goyles. "You get the right wind behind the +_Rogue_--" + +I said: "What is the right wind?" + +Captain Goyles looked puzzled. + +"In the course of this week," I went on, "we have had wind from the +north, from the south, from the east, from the west--with variations. If +you can think of any other point of the compass from which it can blow, +tell me, and I will wait for it. If not, and if that anchor has not +grown into the bottom of the ocean, we will have it up to-day and see +what happens." + +He grasped the fact that I was determined. + +"Very well, sir," he said, "you're master and I'm man. I've only got one +child as is still dependent on me, thank God, and no doubt your executors +will feel it their duty to do the right thing by the old woman." + +His solemnity impressed me. + +"Mr. Goyles," I said, "be honest with me. Is there any hope, in any +weather, of getting away from this damned hole?" + +Captain Goyles's kindly geniality returned to him. + +"You see, sir," he said, "this is a very peculiar coast. We'd be all +right if we were once out, but getting away from it in a cockle-shell +like that--well, to be frank, sir, it wants doing." + +I left Captain Goyles with the assurance that he would watch the weather +as a mother would her sleeping babe; it was his own simile, and it struck +me as rather touching. I saw him again at twelve o'clock; he was +watching it from the window of the "Chain and Anchor." + +At five o'clock that evening a stroke of luck occurred; in the middle of +the High Street I met a couple of yachting friends, who had had to put in +by reason of a strained rudder. I told them my story, and they appeared +less surprised than amused. Captain Goyles and the two men were still +watching the weather. I ran into the "King's Head," and prepared +Ethelbertha. The four of us crept quietly down to the quay, where we +found our boat. Only the boy was on board; my two friends took charge of +the yacht, and by six o'clock we were scudding merrily up the coast. + +We put in that night at Aldborough, and the next day worked up to +Yarmouth, where, as my friends had to leave, I decided to abandon the +yacht. We sold the stores by auction on Yarmouth sands early in the +morning. I made a loss, but had the satisfaction of "doing" Captain +Goyles. I left the _Rogue_ in charge of a local mariner, who, for a +couple of sovereigns, undertook to see to its return to Harwich; and we +came back to London by train. There may be yachts other than the +_Rogue_, and skippers other than Mr. Goyles, but that experience has +prejudiced me against both. + +George also thought a yacht would be a good deal of responsibility, so we +dismissed the idea. + +"What about the river?" suggested Harris. "We have had some pleasant +times on that." + +George pulled in silence at his cigar, and I cracked another nut. + +"The river is not what it used to be," said I; "I don't know what, but +there's a something--a dampness--about the river air that always starts +my lumbago." + +"It's the same with me," said George. "I don't know how it is, but I +never can sleep now in the neighbourhood of the river. I spent a week at +Joe's place in the spring, and every night I woke up at seven o'clock and +never got a wink afterwards." + +"I merely suggested it," observed Harris. "Personally, I don't think it +good for me, either; it touches my gout." + +"What suits me best," I said, "is mountain air. What say you to a +walking tour in Scotland?" + +"It's always wet in Scotland," said George. "I was three weeks in +Scotland the year before last, and was never dry once all the time--not +in that sense." + +"It's fine enough in Switzerland," said Harris. + +"They would never stand our going to Switzerland by ourselves," I +objected. "You know what happened last time. It must be some place +where no delicately nurtured woman or child could possibly live; a +country of bad hotels and comfortless travelling; where we shall have to +rough it, to work hard, to starve perhaps--" + +"Easy!" interrupted George, "easy, there! Don't forget I'm coming with +you." + +"I have it!" exclaimed Harris; "a bicycle tour!" + +George looked doubtful. + +"There's a lot of uphill about a bicycle tour," said he, "and the wind is +against you." + +"So there is downhill, and the wind behind you," said Harris. + +"I've never noticed it," said George. + +"You won't think of anything better than a bicycle tour," persisted +Harris. + +I was inclined to agree with him. + +"And I'll tell you where," continued he; "through the Black Forest." + +"Why, that's _all_ uphill," said George. + +"Not all," retorted Harris; "say two-thirds. And there's one thing +you've forgotten." + +He looked round cautiously, and sunk his voice to a whisper. + +"There are little railways going up those hills, little cogwheel things +that--" + +The door opened, and Mrs. Harris appeared. She said that Ethelbertha was +putting on her bonnet, and that Muriel, after waiting, had given "The Mad +Hatter's Tea Party" without us. + +"Club, to-morrow, at four," whispered Harris to me, as he rose, and I +passed it on to George as we went upstairs. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +A delicate business--What Ethelbertha might have said--What she did +say--What Mrs. Harris said--What we told George--We will start on +Wednesday--George suggests the possibility of improving our minds--Harris +and I are doubtful--Which man on a tandem does the most work?--The +opinion of the man in front--Views of the man behind--How Harris lost his +wife--The luggage question--The wisdom of my late Uncle Podger--Beginning +of story about a man who had a bag. + +I opened the ball with Ethelbertha that same evening. I commenced by +being purposely a little irritable. My idea was that Ethelbertha would +remark upon this. I should admit it, and account for it by over brain +pressure. This would naturally lead to talk about my health in general, +and the evident necessity there was for my taking prompt and vigorous +measures. I thought that with a little tact I might even manage so that +the suggestion should come from Ethelbertha herself. I imagined her +saying: "No, dear, it is change you want; complete change. Now be +persuaded by me, and go away for a month. No, do not ask me to come with +you. I know you would rather that I did, but I will not. It is the +society of other men you need. Try and persuade George and Harris to go +with you. Believe me, a highly strung brain such as yours demands +occasional relaxation from the strain of domestic surroundings. Forget +for a little while that children want music lessons, and boots, and +bicycles, with tincture of rhubarb three times a day; forget there are +such things in life as cooks, and house decorators, and next-door dogs, +and butchers' bills. Go away to some green corner of the earth, where +all is new and strange to you, where your over-wrought mind will gather +peace and fresh ideas. Go away for a space and give me time to miss you, +and to reflect upon your goodness and virtue, which, continually present +with me, I may, human-like, be apt to forget, as one, through use, grows +indifferent to the blessing of the sun and the beauty of the moon. Go +away, and come back refreshed in mind and body, a brighter, better man--if +that be possible--than when you went away." + +But even when we obtain our desires they never come to us garbed as we +would wish. To begin with, Ethelbertha did not seem to remark that I was +irritable; I had to draw her attention to it. I said: + +"You must forgive me, I'm not feeling quite myself to-night." + +She said: "Oh! I have not noticed anything different; what's the matter +with you?" + +"I can't tell you what it is," I said; "I've felt it coming on for +weeks." + +"It's that whisky," said Ethelbertha. "You never touch it except when we +go to the Harris's. You know you can't stand it; you have not a strong +head." + +"It isn't the whisky," I replied; "it's deeper than that. I fancy it's +more mental than bodily." + +"You've been reading those criticisms again," said Ethelbertha, more +sympathetically; "why don't you take my advice and put them on the fire?" + +"And it isn't the criticisms," I answered; "they've been quite flattering +of late--one or two of them." + +"Well, what is it?" said Ethelbertha; "there must be something to account +for it." + +"No, there isn't," I replied; "that's the remarkable thing about it; I +can only describe it as a strange feeling of unrest that seems to have +taken possession of me." + +Ethelbertha glanced across at me with a somewhat curious expression, I +thought; but as she said nothing, I continued the argument myself. + +"This aching monotony of life, these days of peaceful, uneventful +felicity, they appall one." + +"I should not grumble at them," said Ethelbertha; "we might get some of +the other sort, and like them still less." + +"I'm not so sure of that," I replied. "In a life of continuous joy, I +can imagine even pain coming as a welcome variation. I wonder sometimes +whether the saints in heaven do not occasionally feel the continual +serenity a burden. To myself a life of endless bliss, uninterrupted by a +single contrasting note, would, I feel, grow maddening. I suppose," I +continued, "I am a strange sort of man; I can hardly understand myself at +times. There are moments," I added, "when I hate myself." + +Often a little speech like this, hinting at hidden depths of +indescribable emotion has touched Ethelbertha, but to-night she appeared +strangely unsympathetic. With regard to heaven and its possible effect +upon me, she suggested my not worrying myself about that, remarking it +was always foolish to go half-way to meet trouble that might never come; +while as to my being a strange sort of fellow, that, she supposed, I +could not help, and if other people were willing to put up with me, there +was an end of the matter. The monotony of life, she added, was a common +experience; there she could sympathise with me. + +"You don't know how I long," said Ethelbertha, "to get away occasionally, +even from you; but I know it can never be, so I do not brood upon it." + +I had never heard Ethelbertha speak like this before; it astonished and +grieved me beyond measure. + +"That's not a very kind remark to make," I said, "not a wifely remark." + +"I know it isn't," she replied; "that is why I have never said it +before. You men never can understand," continued Ethelbertha, "that, +however fond a woman may be of a man, there are times when he palls +upon her. You don't know how I long to be able sometimes to put on my +bonnet and go out, with nobody to ask me where I am going, why I am +going, how long I am going to be, and when I shall be back. You don't +know how I sometimes long to order a dinner that I should like and +that the children would like, but at the sight of which you would put +on your hat and be off to the Club. You don't know how much I feel +inclined sometimes to invite some woman here that I like, and that I +know you don't; to go and see the people that _I_ want to see, to go to +bed when _I_ am tired, and to get up when _I_ feel I want to get up. +Two people living together are bound both to be continually sacrificing +their own desires to the other one. It is sometimes a good thing to +slacken the strain a bit." + +On thinking over Ethelbertha's words afterwards, I have come to see +their wisdom; but at the time I admit I was hurt and indignant. + +"If your desire," I said, "is to get rid of me--" + +"Now, don't be an old goose," said Ethelbertha; "I only want to get rid +of you for a little while, just long enough to forget there are one or +two corners about you that are not perfect, just long enough to let me +remember what a dear fellow you are in other respects, and to look +forward to your return, as I used to look forward to your coming in the +old days when I did not see you so often as to become, perhaps, a little +indifferent to you, as one grows indifferent to the glory of the sun, +just because he is there every day." + +I did not like the tone that Ethelbertha took. There seemed to be a +frivolity about her, unsuited to the theme into which we had drifted. +That a woman should contemplate cheerfully an absence of three or four +weeks from her husband appeared to me to be not altogether nice, not what +I call womanly; it was not like Ethelbertha at all. I was worried, I +felt I didn't want to go this trip at all. If it had not been for George +and Harris, I would have abandoned it. As it was, I could not see how to +change my mind with dignity. + +"Very well, Ethelbertha," I replied, "it shall be as you wish. If you +desire a holiday from my presence, you shall enjoy it; but if it be not +impertinent curiosity on the part of a husband, I should like to know +what you propose doing in my absence?" + +"We will take that house at Folkestone," answered Ethelbertha, "and I'll +go down there with Kate. And if you want to do Clara Harris a good +turn," added Ethelbertha, "you'll persuade Harris to go with you, and +then Clara can join us. We three used to have some very jolly times +together before you men ever came along, and it would be just delightful +to renew them. Do you think," continued Ethelbertha, "that you could +persuade Mr. Harris to go with you?" + +I said I would try. + +"There's a dear boy," said Ethelbertha; "try hard. You might get George +to join you." + +I replied there was not much advantage in George's coming, seeing he was +a bachelor, and that therefore nobody would be much benefited by his +absence. But a woman never understands satire. Ethelbertha merely +remarked it would look unkind leaving him behind. I promised to put it +to him. + +I met Harris at the Club in the afternoon, and asked him how he had got +on. + +He said, "Oh, that's all right; there's no difficulty about getting +away." + +But there was that about his tone that suggested incomplete satisfaction, +so I pressed him for further details. + +"She was as sweet as milk about it," he continued; "said it was an +excellent idea of George's, and that she thought it would do me good." + +"That seems all right," I said; "what's wrong about that?" + +"There's nothing wrong about that," he answered, "but that wasn't all. +She went on to talk of other things." + +"I understand," I said. + +"There's that bathroom fad of hers," he continued. + +"I've heard of it," I said; "she has started Ethelbertha on the same +idea." + +"Well, I've had to agree to that being put in hand at once; I couldn't +argue any more when she was so nice about the other thing. That will +cost me a hundred pounds, at the very least." + +"As much as that?" I asked. + +"Every penny of it," said Harris; "the estimate alone is sixty." + +I was sorry to hear him say this. + +"Then there's the kitchen stove," continued Harris; "everything that has +gone wrong in the house for the last two years has been the fault of that +kitchen stove." + +"I know," I said. "We have been in seven houses since we were married, +and every kitchen stove has been worse than the last. Our present one is +not only incompetent; it is spiteful. It knows when we are giving a +party, and goes out of its way to do its worst." + +"_We_ are going to have a new one," said Harris, but he did not say it +proudly. "Clara thought it would be such a saving of expense, having the +two things done at the same time. I believe," said Harris, "if a woman +wanted a diamond tiara, she would explain that it was to save the expense +of a bonnet." + +"How much do you reckon the stove is going to cost you?" I asked. I felt +interested in the subject. + +"I don't know," answered Harris; "another twenty, I suppose. Then we +talked about the piano. Could you ever notice," said Harris, "any +difference between one piano and another?" + +"Some of them seem to be a bit louder than others," I answered; "but one +gets used to that." + +"Ours is all wrong about the treble," said Harris. "By the way, what +_is_ the treble?" + +"It's the shrill end of the thing," I explained; "the part that sounds as +if you'd trod on its tail. The brilliant selections always end up with a +flourish on it." + +"They want more of it," said Harris; "our old one hasn't got enough of +it. I'll have to put it in the nursery, and get a new one for the +drawing-room." + +"Anything else?" I asked. + +"No," said Harris; "she didn't seem able to think of anything else." + +"You'll find when you get home," I said, "she has thought of one other +thing." + +"What's that?" said Harris. + +"A house at Folkestone for the season." + +"What should she want a house at Folkestone for?" said Harris. + +"To live in," I suggested, "during the summer months." + +"She's going to her people in Wales," said Harris, "for the holidays, +with the children; we've had an invitation." + +"Possibly," I said, "she'll go to Wales before she goes to Folkestone, or +maybe she'll take Wales on her way home; but she'll want a house at +Folkestone for the season, notwithstanding. I may be mistaken--I hope +for your sake that I am--but I feel a presentiment that I'm not." + +"This trip," said Harris, "is going to be expensive." + +"It was an idiotic suggestion," I said, "from the beginning." + +"It was foolish of us to listen to him," said Harris; "he'll get us into +real trouble one of these days." + +"He always was a muddler," I agreed. + +"So headstrong," added Harris. + +We heard his voice at that moment in the hall, asking for letters. + +"Better not say anything to him," I suggested; "it's too late to go back +now." + +"There would be no advantage in doing so," replied Harris. "I should +have to get that bathroom and piano in any case now." + +He came in looking very cheerful. + +"Well," he said, "is it all right? Have you managed it?" + +There was that about his tone I did not altogether like; I noticed Harris +resented it also. + +"Managed what?" I said. + +"Why, to get off," said George. + +I felt the time was come to explain things to George. + +"In married life," I said, "the man proposes, the woman submits. It is +her duty; all religion teaches it." + +George folded his hands and fixed his eyes on the ceiling. + +"We may chaff and joke a little about these things," I continued; "but +when it comes to practice, that is what always happens. We have +mentioned to our wives that we are going. Naturally, they are grieved; +they would prefer to come with us; failing that, they would have us +remain with them. But we have explained to them our wishes on the +subject, and--there's an end of the matter." + +George said, "Forgive me; I did not understand. I am only a bachelor. +People tell me this, that, and the other, and I listen." + +I said, "That is where you do wrong. When you want information come to +Harris or myself; we will tell you the truth about these questions." + +George thanked us, and we proceeded with the business in hand. + +"When shall we start?" said George. + +"So far as I am concerned," replied Harris, "the sooner the better." + +His idea, I fancy, was to get away before Mrs. H. thought of other +things. We fixed the following Wednesday. + +"What about route?" said Harris. + +"I have an idea," said George. "I take it you fellows are naturally +anxious to improve your minds?" + +I said, "We don't want to become monstrosities. To a reasonable degree, +yes, if it can be done without much expense and with little personal +trouble." + +"It can," said George. "We know Holland and the Rhine. Very well, my +suggestion is that we take the boat to Hamburg, see Berlin and Dresden, +and work our way to the Schwarzwald, through Nuremberg and Stuttgart." + +"There are some pretty bits in Mesopotamia, so I've been told," murmured +Harris. + +George said Mesopotamia was too much out of our way, but that the Berlin- +Dresden route was quite practicable. For good or evil, he persuaded us +into it. + +"The machines, I suppose," said George, "as before. Harris and I on the +tandem, J.--" + +"I think not," interrupted Harris, firmly. "You and J. on the tandem, I +on the single." + +"All the same to me," agreed George. "J. and I on the tandem, Harris--" + +"I do not mind taking my turn," I interrupted, "but I am not going to +carry George _all_ the way; the burden should be divided." + +"Very well," agreed Harris, "we'll divide it. But it must be on the +distinct understanding that he works." + +"That he what?" said George. + +"That he works," repeated Harris, firmly; "at all events, uphill." + +"Great Scott!" said George; "don't you want _any_ exercise?" + +There is always unpleasantness about this tandem. It is the theory of +the man in front that the man behind does nothing; it is equally the +theory of the man behind that he alone is the motive power, the man in +front merely doing the puffing. The mystery will never be solved. It is +annoying when Prudence is whispering to you on the one side not to overdo +your strength and bring on heart disease; while Justice into the other +ear is remarking, "Why should you do it all? This isn't a cab. He's not +your passenger": to hear him grunt out: + +"What's the matter--lost your pedals?" + +Harris, in his early married days, made much trouble for himself on one +occasion, owing to this impossibility of knowing what the person behind +is doing. He was riding with his wife through Holland. The roads were +stony, and the machine jumped a good deal. + +"Sit tight," said Harris, without turning his head. + +What Mrs. Harris thought he said was, "Jump off." Why she should have +thought he said "Jump off," when he said "Sit tight," neither of them can +explain. + +Mrs. Harris puts it in this way, "If you had said, 'Sit tight,' why +should I have jumped off?" + +Harris puts it, "If I had wanted you to jump off, why should I have said +'Sit tight!'?" + +The bitterness is past, but they argue about the matter to this day. + +Be the explanation what it may, however, nothing alters the fact that +Mrs. Harris did jump off, while Harris pedalled away hard, under the +impression she was still behind him. It appears that at first she +thought he was riding up the hill merely to show off. They were both +young in those days, and he used to do that sort of thing. She expected +him to spring to earth on reaching the summit, and lean in a careless and +graceful attitude against the machine, waiting for her. When, on the +contrary, she saw him pass the summit and proceed rapidly down a long and +steep incline, she was seized, first with surprise, secondly with +indignation, and lastly with alarm. She ran to the top of the hill and +shouted, but he never turned his head. She watched him disappear into a +wood a mile and a half distant, and then sat down and cried. They had +had a slight difference that morning, and she wondered if he had taken it +seriously and intended desertion. She had no money; she knew no Dutch. +People passed, and seemed sorry for her; she tried to make them +understand what had happened. They gathered that she had lost something, +but could not grasp what. They took her to the nearest village, and +found a policeman for her. He concluded from her pantomime that some man +had stolen her bicycle. They put the telegraph into operation, and +discovered in a village four miles off an unfortunate boy riding a lady's +machine of an obsolete pattern. They brought him to her in a cart, but +as she did not appear to want either him or his bicycle they let him go +again, and resigned themselves to bewilderment. + +Meanwhile, Harris continued his ride with much enjoyment. It seemed to +him that he had suddenly become a stronger, and in every way a more +capable cyclist. Said he to what he thought was Mrs. Harris: + +"I haven't felt this machine so light for months. It's this air, I +think; it's doing me good." + +Then he told her not to be afraid, and he would show her how fast he +_could_ go. He bent down over the handles, and put his heart into his +work. The bicycle bounded over the road like a thing of life; farmhouses +and churches, dogs and chickens came to him and passed. Old folks stood +and gazed at him, the children cheered him. + +In this way he sped merrily onward for about five miles. Then, as he +explains it, the feeling began to grow upon him that something was wrong. +He was not surprised at the silence; the wind was blowing strongly, and +the machine was rattling a good deal. It was a sense of void that came +upon him. He stretched out his hand behind him, and felt; there was +nothing there but space. He jumped, or rather fell off, and looked back +up the road; it stretched white and straight through the dark wood, and +not a living soul could be seen upon it. He remounted, and rode back up +the hill. In ten minutes he came to where the road broke into four; +there he dismounted and tried to remember which fork he had come down. + +While he was deliberating a man passed, sitting sideways on a horse. +Harris stopped him, and explained to him that he had lost his wife. The +man appeared to be neither surprised nor sorry for him. While they were +talking another farmer came along, to whom the first man explained the +matter, not as an accident, but as a good story. What appeared to +surprise the second man most was that Harris should be making a fuss +about the thing. He could get no sense out of either of them, and +cursing them he mounted his machine again, and took the middle road on +chance. Half-way up, he came upon a party of two young women with one +young man between them. They appeared to be making the most of him. He +asked them if they had seen his wife. They asked him what she was like. +He did not know enough Dutch to describe her properly; all he could tell +them was she was a very beautiful woman, of medium size. Evidently this +did not satisfy them, the description was too general; any man could say +that, and by this means perhaps get possession of a wife that did not +belong to him. They asked him how she was dressed; for the life of him +he could not recollect. + +I doubt if any man could tell how any woman was dressed ten minutes after +he had left her. He recollected a blue skirt, and then there was +something that carried the dress on, as it were, up to the neck. +Possibly, this may have been a blouse; he retained a dim vision of a +belt; but what sort of a blouse? Was it green, or yellow, or blue? Had +it a collar, or was it fastened with a bow? Were there feathers in her +hat, or flowers? Or was it a hat at all? He dared not say, for fear of +making a mistake and being sent miles after the wrong party. The two +young women giggled, which in his then state of mind irritated Harris. +The young man, who appeared anxious to get rid of him, suggested the +police station at the next town. Harris made his way there. The police +gave him a piece of paper, and told him to write down a full description +of his wife, together with details of when and where he had lost her. He +did not know where he had lost her; all he could tell them was the name +of the village where he had lunched. He knew he had her with him then, +and that they had started from there together. + +The police looked suspicious; they were doubtful about three matters: +Firstly, was she really his wife? Secondly, had he really lost her? +Thirdly, why had he lost her? With the aid of a hotel-keeper, however, +who spoke a little English, he overcame their scruples. They promised to +act, and in the evening they brought her to him in a covered wagon, +together with a bill for expenses. The meeting was not a tender one. +Mrs. Harris is not a good actress, and always has great difficulty in +disguising her feelings. On this occasion, she frankly admits, she made +no attempt to disguise them. + +The wheel business settled, there arose the ever-lasting luggage +question. + +"The usual list, I suppose," said George, preparing to write. + +That was wisdom I had taught them; I had learned it myself years ago from +my Uncle Podger. + +"Always before beginning to pack," my Uncle would say, "make a list." + +He was a methodical man. + +"Take a piece of paper"--he always began at the beginning--"put down on +it everything you can possibly require, then go over it and see that it +contains nothing you can possibly do without. Imagine yourself in bed; +what have you got on? Very well, put it down--together with a change. +You get up; what do you do? Wash yourself. What do you wash yourself +with? Soap; put down soap. Go on till you have finished. Then take +your clothes. Begin at your feet; what do you wear on your feet? Boots, +shoes, socks; put them down. Work up till you get to your head. What +else do you want besides clothes? A little brandy; put it down. A +corkscrew, put it down. Put down everything, then you don't forget +anything." + +That is the plan he always pursued himself. The list made, he would go +over it carefully, as he always advised, to see that he had forgotten +nothing. Then he would go over it again, and strike out everything it +was possible to dispense with. + +Then he would lose the list. + +Said George: "Just sufficient for a day or two we will take with us on +our bikes. The bulk of our luggage we must send on from town to town." + +"We must be careful," I said; "I knew a man once--" + +Harris looked at his watch. + +"We'll hear about him on the boat," said Harris; "I have got to meet +Clara at Waterloo Station in half an hour." + +"It won't take half an hour," I said; "it's a true story, and--" + +"Don't waste it," said George: "I am told there are rainy evenings in the +Black Forest; we may be glad of it. What we have to do now is to finish +this list." + +Now I come to think of it, I never did get off that story; something +always interrupted it. And it really was true. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Harris's one fault--Harris and the Angel--A patent bicycle lamp--The +ideal saddle--The "Overhauler"--His eagle eye--His method--His cheery +confidence--His simple and inexpensive tastes--His appearance--How to get +rid of him--George as prophet--The gentle art of making oneself +disagreeable in a foreign tongue--George as a student of human nature--He +proposes an experiment--His Prudence--Harris's support secured, upon +conditions. + +On Monday afternoon Harris came round; he had a cycling paper in his +hand. + +I said: "If you take my advice, you will leave it alone." + +Harris said: "Leave what alone?" + +I said: "That brand-new, patent, revolution in cycling, record-breaking, +Tomfoolishness, whatever it may be, the advertisement of which you have +there in your hand." + +He said: "Well, I don't know; there will be some steep hills for us to +negotiate; I guess we shall want a good brake." + +I said: "We shall want a brake, I agree; what we shall not want is a +mechanical surprise that we don't understand, and that never acts when it +is wanted." + +"This thing," he said, "acts automatically." + +"You needn't tell me," I said. "I know exactly what it will do, by +instinct. Going uphill it will jamb the wheel so effectively that we +shall have to carry the machine bodily. The air at the top of the hill +will do it good, and it will suddenly come right again. Going downhill +it will start reflecting what a nuisance it has been. This will lead to +remorse, and finally to despair. It will say to itself: 'I'm not fit to +be a brake. I don't help these fellows; I only hinder them. I'm a +curse, that's what I am;' and, without a word of warning, it will 'chuck' +the whole business. That is what that brake will do. Leave it alone. +You are a good fellow," I continued, "but you have one fault." + +"What?" he asked, indignantly. + +"You have too much faith," I answered. "If you read an advertisement, +you go away and believe it. Every experiment that every fool has thought +of in connection with cycling you have tried. Your guardian angel +appears to be a capable and conscientious spirit, and hitherto she has +seen you through; take my advice and don't try her too far. She must +have had a busy time since you started cycling. Don't go on till you +make her mad." + +He said: "If every man talked like that there would be no advancement +made in any department of life. If nobody ever tried a new thing the +world would come to a standstill. It is by--" + +"I know all that can be said on that side of the argument," I +interrupted. "I agree in trying new experiments up to thirty-five; +_after_ thirty-five I consider a man is entitled to think of himself. You +and I have done our duty in this direction, you especially. You have +been blown up by a patent gas lamp--" + +He said: "I really think, you know, that was my fault; I think I must +have screwed it up too tight." + +I said: "I am quite willing to believe that if there was a wrong way of +handling the thing that is the way you handle it. You should take that +tendency of yours into consideration; it bears upon the argument. Myself, +I did not notice what you did; I only know we were riding peacefully and +pleasantly along the Whitby Road, discussing the Thirty Years' War, when +your lamp went off like a pistol-shot. The start sent me into the ditch; +and your wife's face, when I told her there was nothing the matter and +that she was not to worry, because the two men would carry you upstairs, +and the doctor would be round in a minute bringing the nurse with him, +still lingers in my memory." + +He said: "I wish you had thought to pick up the lamp. I should like to +have found out what was the cause of its going off like that." + +I said: "There was not time to pick up the lamp. I calculate it would +have taken two hours to have collected it. As to its 'going off,' the +mere fact of its being advertised as the safest lamp ever invented would +of itself, to anyone but you, have suggested accident. Then there was +that electric lamp," I continued. + +"Well, that really did give a fine light," he replied; "you said so +yourself." + +I said: "It gave a brilliant light in the King's Road, Brighton, and +frightened a horse. The moment we got into the dark beyond Kemp Town it +went out, and you were summoned for riding without a light. You may +remember that on sunny afternoons you used to ride about with that lamp +shining for all it was worth. When lighting-up time came it was +naturally tired, and wanted a rest." + +"It was a bit irritating, that lamp," he murmured; "I remember it." + +I said: "It irritated me; it must have been worse for you. Then there +are saddles," I went on--I wished to get this lesson home to him. "Can +you think of any saddle ever advertised that you have _not_ tried?" + +He said: "It has been an idea of mine that the right saddle is to be +found." + +I said: "You give up that idea; this is an imperfect world of joy and +sorrow mingled. There may be a better land where bicycle saddles are +made out of rainbow, stuffed with cloud; in this world the simplest thing +is to get used to something hard. There was that saddle you bought in +Birmingham; it was divided in the middle, and looked like a pair of +kidneys." + +He said: "You mean that one constructed on anatomical principles." + +"Very likely," I replied. "The box you bought it in had a picture on the +cover, representing a sitting skeleton--or rather that part of a skeleton +which does sit." + +He said: "It was quite correct; it showed you the true position of the--" + +I said: "We will not go into details; the picture always seemed to me +indelicate." + +He said: "Medically speaking, it was right." + +"Possibly," I said, "for a man who rode in nothing but his bones. I only +know that I tried it myself, and that to a man who wore flesh it was +agony. Every time you went over a stone or a rut it nipped you; it was +like riding on an irritable lobster. You rode that for a month." + +"I thought it only right to give it a fair trial," he answered. + +I said: "You gave your family a fair trial also; if you will allow me the +use of slang. Your wife told me that never in the whole course of your +married life had she known you so bad tempered, so un-Christian like, as +you were that month. Then you remember that other saddle, the one with +the spring under it." + +He said: "You mean 'the Spiral.'" + +I said: "I mean the one that jerked you up and down like a Jack-in-the- +box; sometimes you came down again in the right place, and sometimes you +didn't. I am not referring to these matters merely to recall painful +memories, but I want to impress you with the folly of trying experiments +at your time of life." + +He said. "I wish you wouldn't harp so much on my age. A man at thirty- +four--" + +"A man at what?" + +He said: "If you don't want the thing, don't have it. If your machine +runs away with you down a mountain, and you and George get flung through +a church roof, don't blame me." + +"I cannot promise for George," I said; "a little thing will sometimes +irritate him, as you know. If such an accident as you suggest happen, he +may be cross, but I will undertake to explain to him that it was not your +fault." + +"Is the thing all right?" he asked. + +"The tandem," I replied, "is well." + +He said: "Have you overhauled it?" + +I said: "I have not, nor is anyone else going to overhaul it. The thing +is now in working order, and it is going to remain in working order till +we start." + +I have had experience of this "overhauling." There was a man at +Folkestone; I used to meet him on the Lees. He proposed one evening we +should go for a long bicycle ride together on the following day, and I +agreed. I got up early, for me; I made an effort, and was pleased with +myself. He came half an hour late: I was waiting for him in the garden. +It was a lovely day. He said:-- + +"That's a good-looking machine of yours. How does it run?" + +"Oh, like most of them!" I answered; "easily enough in the morning; goes +a little stiffly after lunch." + +He caught hold of it by the front wheel and the fork and shook it +violently. + +I said: "Don't do that; you'll hurt it." + +I did not see why he should shake it; it had not done anything to him. +Besides, if it wanted shaking, I was the proper person to shake it. I +felt much as I should had he started whacking my dog. + +He said: "This front wheel wobbles." + +I said: "It doesn't if you don't wobble it." It didn't wobble, as a +matter of fact--nothing worth calling a wobble. + +He said: "This is dangerous; have you got a screw-hammer?" + +I ought to have been firm, but I thought that perhaps he really did know +something about the business. I went to the tool shed to see what I +could find. When I came back he was sitting on the ground with the front +wheel between his legs. He was playing with it, twiddling it round +between his fingers; the remnant of the machine was lying on the gravel +path beside him. + +He said: "Something has happened to this front wheel of yours." + +"It looks like it, doesn't it?" I answered. But he was the sort of man +that never understands satire. + +He said: "It looks to me as if the bearings were all wrong." + +I said: "Don't you trouble about it any more; you will make yourself +tired. Let us put it back and get off." + +He said: "We may as well see what is the matter with it, now it is out." +He talked as though it had dropped out by accident. + +Before I could stop him he had unscrewed something somewhere, and out +rolled all over the path some dozen or so little balls. + +"Catch 'em!" he shouted; "catch 'em! We mustn't lose any of them." He +was quite excited about them. + +We grovelled round for half an hour, and found sixteen. He said he hoped +we had got them all, because, if not, it would make a serious difference +to the machine. He said there was nothing you should be more careful +about in taking a bicycle to pieces than seeing you did not lose any of +the balls. He explained that you ought to count them as you took them +out, and see that exactly the same number went back in each place. I +promised, if ever I took a bicycle to pieces I would remember his advice. + +I put the balls for safety in my hat, and I put my hat upon the doorstep. +It was not a sensible thing to do, I admit. As a matter of fact, it was +a silly thing to do. I am not as a rule addle-headed; his influence must +have affected me. + +He then said that while he was about it he would see to the chain for me, +and at once began taking off the gear-case. I did try to persuade him +from that. I told him what an experienced friend of mine once said to me +solemnly:-- + +"If anything goes wrong with your gear-case, sell the machine and buy a +new one; it comes cheaper." + +He said: "People talk like that who understand nothing about machines. +Nothing is easier than taking off a gear-case." + +I had to confess he was right. In less than five minutes he had the gear- +case in two pieces, lying on the path, and was grovelling for screws. He +said it was always a mystery to him the way screws disappeared. + +We were still looking for the screws when Ethelbertha came out. She +seemed surprised to find us there; she said she thought we had started +hours ago. + +He said: "We shan't be long now. I'm just helping your husband to +overhaul this machine of his. It's a good machine; but they all want +going over occasionally." + +Ethelbertha said: "If you want to wash yourselves when you have done you +might go into the back kitchen, if you don't mind; the girls have just +finished the bedrooms." + +She told me that if she met Kate they would probably go for a sail; but +that in any case she would be back to lunch. I would have given a +sovereign to be going with her. I was getting heartily sick of standing +about watching this fool breaking up my bicycle. + +Common sense continued to whisper to me: "Stop him, before he does any +more mischief. You have a right to protect your own property from the +ravages of a lunatic. Take him by the scruff of the neck, and kick him +out of the gate!" + +But I am weak when it comes to hurting other people's feelings, and I let +him muddle on. + +He gave up looking for the rest of the screws. He said screws had a +knack of turning up when you least expected them; and that now he would +see to the chain. He tightened it till it would not move; next he +loosened it until it was twice as loose as it was before. Then he said +we had better think about getting the front wheel back into its place +again. + +I held the fork open, and he worried with the wheel. At the end of ten +minutes I suggested he should hold the forks, and that I should handle +the wheel; and we changed places. At the end of his first minute he +dropped the machine, and took a short walk round the croquet lawn, with +his hands pressed together between his thighs. He explained as he walked +that the thing to be careful about was to avoid getting your fingers +pinched between the forks and the spokes of the wheel. I replied I was +convinced, from my own experience, that there was much truth in what he +said. He wrapped himself up in a couple of dusters, and we commenced +again. At length we did get the thing into position; and the moment it +was in position he burst out laughing. + +I said: "What's the joke?" + +He said: "Well, I am an ass!" + +It was the first thing he had said that made me respect him. I asked him +what had led him to the discovery. + +He said: "We've forgotten the balls!" + +I looked for my hat; it was lying topsy-turvy in the middle of the path, +and Ethelbertha's favourite hound was swallowing the balls as fast as he +could pick them up. + +"He will kill himself," said Ebbson--I have never met him since that day, +thank the Lord; but I think his name was Ebbson--"they are solid steel." + +I said: "I am not troubling about the dog. He has had a bootlace and a +packet of needles already this week. Nature's the best guide; puppies +seem to require this kind of stimulant. What I am thinking about is my +bicycle." + +He was of a cheerful disposition. He said: "Well, we must put back all +we can find, and trust to Providence." + +We found eleven. We fixed six on one side and five on the other, and +half an hour later the wheel was in its place again. It need hardly be +added that it really did wobble now; a child might have noticed it. +Ebbson said it would do for the present. He appeared to be getting a bit +tired himself. If I had let him, he would, I believe, at this point have +gone home. I was determined now, however, that he should stop and +finish; I had abandoned all thoughts of a ride. My pride in the machine +he had killed. My only interest lay now in seeing him scratch and bump +and pinch himself. I revived his drooping spirits with a glass of beer +and some judicious praise. I said: + +"Watching you do this is of real use to me. It is not only your skill +and dexterity that fascinates me, it is your cheery confidence in +yourself, your inexplicable hopefulness, that does me good." + +Thus encouraged, he set to work to refix the gear-case. He stood the +bicycle against the house, and worked from the off side. Then he stood +it against a tree, and worked from the near side. Then I held it for +him, while he lay on the ground with his head between the wheels, and +worked at it from below, and dropped oil upon himself. Then he took it +away from me, and doubled himself across it like a pack-saddle, till he +lost his balance and slid over on to his head. Three times he said: + +"Thank Heaven, that's right at last!" + +And twice he said: + +"No, I'm damned if it is after all!" + +What he said the third time I try to forget. + +Then he lost his temper and tried bullying the thing. The bicycle, I was +glad to see, showed spirit; and the subsequent proceedings degenerated +into little else than a rough-and-tumble fight between him and the +machine. One moment the bicycle would be on the gravel path, and he on +top of it; the next, the position would be reversed--he on the gravel +path, the bicycle on him. Now he would be standing flushed with victory, +the bicycle firmly fixed between his legs. But his triumph would be +short-lived. By a sudden, quick movement it would free itself, and, +turning upon him, hit him sharply over the head with one of its handles. + +At a quarter to one, dirty and dishevelled, cut and bleeding, he said: "I +think that will do;" and rose and wiped his brow. + +The bicycle looked as if it also had had enough of it. Which had +received most punishment it would have been difficult to say. I took him +into the back kitchen, where, so far as was possible without soda and +proper tools, he cleaned himself, and sent him home. + +The bicycle I put into a cab and took round to the nearest repairing +shop. The foreman of the works came up and looked at it. + +"What do you want me to do with that?" said he. + +"I want you," I said, "so far as is possible, to restore it." + +"It's a bit far gone," said he; "but I'll do my best." + +He did his best, which came to two pounds ten. But it was never the same +machine again; and at the end of the season I left it in an agent's hands +to sell. I wished to deceive nobody; I instructed the man to advertise +it as a last year's machine. The agent advised me not to mention any +date. He said: + +"In this business it isn't a question of what is true and what isn't; +it's a question of what you can get people to believe. Now, between you +and me, it don't look like a last year's machine; so far as looks are +concerned, it might be a ten-year old. We'll say nothing about date; +we'll just get what we can." + +I left the matter to him, and he got me five pounds, which he said was +more than he had expected. + +There are two ways you can get exercise out of a bicycle: you can +"overhaul" it, or you can ride it. On the whole, I am not sure that a +man who takes his pleasure overhauling does not have the best of the +bargain. He is independent of the weather and the wind; the state of the +roads troubles him not. Give him a screw-hammer, a bundle of rags, an +oil-can, and something to sit down upon, and he is happy for the day. He +has to put up with certain disadvantages, of course; there is no joy +without alloy. He himself always looks like a tinker, and his machine +always suggests the idea that, having stolen it, he has tried to disguise +it; but as he rarely gets beyond the first milestone with it, this, +perhaps, does not much matter. The mistake some people make is in +thinking they can get both forms of sport out of the same machine. This +is impossible; no machine will stand the double strain. You must make up +your mind whether you are going to be an "overhauler" or a rider. +Personally, I prefer to ride, therefore I take care to have near me +nothing that can tempt me to overhaul. When anything happens to my +machine I wheel it to the nearest repairing shop. If I am too far from +the town or village to walk, I sit by the roadside and wait till a cart +comes along. My chief danger, I always find, is from the wandering +overhauler. The sight of a broken-down machine is to the overhauler as a +wayside corpse to a crow; he swoops down upon it with a friendly yell of +triumph. At first I used to try politeness. I would say: + +"It is nothing; don't you trouble. You ride on, and enjoy yourself, I +beg it of you as a favour; please go away." + +Experience has taught me, however, that courtesy is of no use in such an +extremity. Now I say: + +"You go away and leave the thing alone, or I will knock your silly head +off." + +And if you look determined, and have a good stout cudgel in your hand, +you can generally drive him off. + +George came in later in the day. He said: + +"Well, do you think everything will be ready?" + +I said: "Everything will be ready by Wednesday, except, perhaps, you and +Harris." + +He said: "Is the tandem all right?" + +"The tandem," I said, "is well." + +He said: "You don't think it wants overhauling?" + +I replied: "Age and experience have taught me that there are few matters +concerning which a man does well to be positive. Consequently, there +remain to me now but a limited number of questions upon which I feel any +degree of certainty. Among such still-unshaken beliefs, however, is the +conviction that that tandem does not want overhauling. I also feel a +presentiment that, provided my life is spared, no human being between now +and Wednesday morning is going to overhaul it." + +George said: "I should not show temper over the matter, if I were you. +There will come a day, perhaps not far distant, when that bicycle, with a +couple of mountains between it and the nearest repairing shop, will, in +spite of your chronic desire for rest, _have_ to be overhauled. Then you +will clamour for people to tell you where you put the oil-can, and what +you have done with the screw-hammer. Then, while you exert yourself +holding the thing steady against a tree, you will suggest that somebody +else should clean the chain and pump the back wheel." + +I felt there was justice in George's rebuke--also a certain amount of +prophetic wisdom. I said: + +"Forgive me if I seemed unresponsive. The truth is, Harris was round +here this morning--" + +George said: "Say no more; I understand. Besides, what I came to talk to +you about was another matter. Look at that." + +He handed me a small book bound in red cloth. It was a guide to English +conversation for the use of German travellers. It commenced "On a Steam- +boat," and terminated "At the Doctor's"; its longest chapter being +devoted to conversation in a railway carriage, among, apparently, a +compartment load of quarrelsome and ill-mannered lunatics: "Can you not +get further away from me, sir?"--"It is impossible, madam; my neighbour, +here, is very stout"--"Shall we not endeavour to arrange our +legs?"--"Please have the goodness to keep your elbows down"--"Pray do not +inconvenience yourself, madam, if my shoulder is of any accommodation to +you," whether intended to be said sarcastically or not, there was nothing +to indicate--"I really must request you to move a little, madam, I can +hardly breathe," the author's idea being, presumably, that by this time +the whole party was mixed up together on the floor. The chapter +concluded with the phrase, "Here we are at our destination, God be +thanked! (_Gott sei dank_!)" a pious exclamation, which under the +circumstances must have taken the form of a chorus. + +At the end of the book was an appendix, giving the German traveller hints +concerning the preservation of his health and comfort during his sojourn +in English towns, chief among such hints being advice to him to always +travel with a supply of disinfectant powder, to always lock his bedroom +door at night, and to always carefully count his small change. + +"It is not a brilliant publication," I remarked, handing the book back to +George; "it is not a book that personally I would recommend to any German +about to visit England; I think it would get him disliked. But I have +read books published in London for the use of English travellers abroad +every whit as foolish. Some educated idiot, misunderstanding seven +languages, would appear to go about writing these books for the +misinformation and false guidance of modern Europe." + +"You cannot deny," said George, "that these books are in large request. +They are bought by the thousand, I know. In every town in Europe there +must be people going about talking this sort of thing." + +"Maybe," I replied; "but fortunately nobody understands them. I have +noticed, myself, men standing on railway platforms and at street corners +reading aloud from such books. Nobody knows what language they are +speaking; nobody has the slightest knowledge of what they are saying. +This is, perhaps, as well; were they understood they would probably be +assaulted." + +George said: "Maybe you are right; my idea is to see what would happen if +they were understood. My proposal is to get to London early on Wednesday +morning, and spend an hour or two going about and shopping with the aid +of this book. There are one or two little things I want--a hat and a +pair of bedroom slippers, among other articles. Our boat does not leave +Tilbury till twelve, and that just gives us time. I want to try this +sort of talk where I can properly judge of its effect. I want to see how +the foreigner feels when he is talked to in this way." + +It struck me as a sporting idea. In my enthusiasm I offered to accompany +him, and wait outside the shop. I said I thought that Harris would like +to be in it, too--or rather outside. + +George said that was not quite his scheme. His proposal was that Harris +and I should accompany him into the shop. With Harris, who looks +formidable, to support him, and myself at the door to call the police if +necessary, he said he was willing to adventure the thing. + +We walked round to Harris's, and put the proposal before him. He +examined the book, especially the chapters dealing with the purchase of +shoes and hats. He said: + +"If George talks to any bootmaker or any hatter the things that are put +down here, it is not support he will want; it is carrying to the hospital +that he will need." + +That made George angry. + +"You talk," said George, "as though I were a foolhardy boy without any +sense. I shall select from the more polite and less irritating speeches; +the grosser insults I shall avoid." + +This being clearly understood, Harris gave in his adhesion; and our start +was fixed for early Wednesday morning. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Why Harris considers alarm clocks unnecessary in a family--Social +instinct of the young--A child's thoughts about the morning--The +sleepless watchman--The mystery of him--His over anxiety--Night +thoughts--The sort of work one does before breakfast--The good sheep and +the bad--Disadvantages of being virtuous--Harris's new stove begins +badly--The daily out-going of my Uncle Podger--The elderly city man +considered as a racer--We arrive in London--We talk the language of the +traveller. + +George came down on Tuesday evening, and slept at Harris's place. We +thought this a better arrangement than his own suggestion, which was that +we should call for him on our way and "pick him up." Picking George up +in the morning means picking him out of bed to begin with, and shaking +him awake--in itself an exhausting effort with which to commence the day; +helping him find his things and finish his packing; and then waiting for +him while he eats his breakfast, a tedious entertainment from the +spectator's point of view, full of wearisome repetition. + +I knew that if he slept at "Beggarbush" he would be up in time; I have +slept there myself, and I know what happens. About the middle of the +night, as you judge, though in reality it may be somewhat later, you are +startled out of your first sleep by what sounds like a rush of cavalry +along the passage, just outside your door. Your half-awakened +intelligence fluctuates between burglars, the Day of Judgment, and a gas +explosion. You sit up in bed and listen intently. You are not kept +waiting long; the next moment a door is violently slammed, and somebody, +or something, is evidently coming downstairs on a tea-tray. + +"I told you so," says a voice outside, and immediately some hard +substance, a head one would say from the ring of it, rebounds against the +panel of your door. + +By this time you are charging madly round the room for your clothes. +Nothing is where you put it overnight, the articles most essential have +disappeared entirely; and meanwhile the murder, or revolution, or +whatever it is, continues unchecked. You pause for a moment, with your +head under the wardrobe, where you think you can see your slippers, to +listen to a steady, monotonous thumping upon a distant door. The victim, +you presume, has taken refuge there; they mean to have him out and finish +him. Will you be in time? The knocking ceases, and a voice, sweetly +reassuring in its gentle plaintiveness, asks meekly: + +"Pa, may I get up?" + +You do not hear the other voice, but the responses are: + +"No, it was only the bath--no, she ain't really hurt,--only wet, you +know. Yes, ma, I'll tell 'em what you say. No, it was a pure accident. +Yes; good-night, papa." + +Then the same voice, exerting itself so as to be heard in a distant part +of the house, remarks: + +"You've got to come upstairs again. Pa says it isn't time yet to get +up." + +You return to bed, and lie listening to somebody being dragged upstairs, +evidently against their will. By a thoughtful arrangement the spare +rooms at "Beggarbush" are exactly underneath the nurseries. The same +somebody, you conclude, still offering the most creditable opposition, is +being put back into bed. You can follow the contest with much +exactitude, because every time the body is flung down upon the spring +mattress, the bedstead, just above your head, makes a sort of jump; while +every time the body succeeds in struggling out again, you are aware by +the thud upon the floor. After a time the struggle wanes, or maybe the +bed collapses; and you drift back into sleep. But the next moment, or +what seems to be the next moment, you again open your eyes under the +consciousness of a presence. The door is being held ajar, and four +solemn faces, piled one on top of the other, are peering at you, as +though you were some natural curiosity kept in this particular room. +Seeing you awake, the top face, walking calmly over the other three, +comes in and sits on the bed in a friendly attitude. + +"Oh!" it says, "we didn't know you were awake. I've been awake some +time." + +"So I gather," you reply, shortly. + +"Pa doesn't like us to get up too early," it continues. "He says +everybody else in the house is liable to be disturbed if we get up. So, +of course, we mustn't." + +The tone is that of gentle resignation. It is instinct with the spirit +of virtuous pride, arising from the consciousness of self-sacrifice. + +"Don't you call this being up?" you suggest. + +"Oh, no; we're not really up, you know, because we're not properly +dressed." The fact is self-evident. "Pa's always very tired in the +morning," the voice continues; "of course, that's because he works hard +all day. Are you ever tired in the morning?" + +At this point he turns and notices, for the first time, that the three +other children have also entered, and are sitting in a semi-circle on the +floor. From their attitude it is clear they have mistaken the whole +thing for one of the slower forms of entertainment, some comic lecture or +conjuring exhibition, and are waiting patiently for you to get out of bed +and do something. It shocks him, the idea of their being in the guest's +bedchamber. He peremptorily orders them out. They do not answer him, +they do not argue; in dead silence, and with one accord they fall upon +him. All you can see from the bed is a confused tangle of waving arms +and legs, suggestive of an intoxicated octopus trying to find bottom. Not +a word is spoken; that seems to be the etiquette of the thing. If you +are sleeping in your pyjamas, you spring from the bed, and only add to +the confusion; if you are wearing a less showy garment, you stop where +you are and shout commands, which are utterly unheeded. The simplest +plan is to leave it to the eldest boy. He does get them out after a +while, and closes the door upon them. It re-opens immediately, and one, +generally Muriel, is shot back into the room. She enters as from a +catapult. She is handicapped by having long hair, which can be used as a +convenient handle. Evidently aware of this natural disadvantage, she +clutches it herself tightly in one hand, and punches with the other. He +opens the door again, and cleverly uses her as a battering-ram against +the wall of those without. You can hear the dull crash as her head +enters among them, and scatters them. When the victory is complete, he +comes back and resumes his seat on the bed. There is no bitterness about +him; he has forgotten the whole incident. + +"I like the morning," he says, "don't you?" + +"Some mornings," you agree, "are all right; others are not so peaceful." + +He takes no notice of your exception; a far-away look steals over his +somewhat ethereal face. + +"I should like to die in the morning," he says; "everything is so +beautiful then." + +"Well," you answer, "perhaps you will, if your father ever invites an +irritable man to come and sleep here, and doesn't warn him beforehand." + +He descends from his contemplative mood, and becomes himself again. + +"It's jolly in the garden," he suggests; "you wouldn't like to get up and +have a game of cricket, would you?" + +It was not the idea with which you went to bed, but now, as things have +turned out, it seems as good a plan as lying there hopelessly awake; and +you agree. + +You learn, later in the day, that the explanation of the proceeding is +that you, unable to sleep, woke up early in the morning, and thought you +would like a game of cricket. The children, taught to be ever courteous +to guests, felt it their duty to humour you. Mrs. Harris remarks at +breakfast that at least you might have seen to it that the children were +properly dressed before you took them out; while Harris points out to +you, pathetically, how, by your one morning's example and encouragement, +you have undone his labour of months. + +On this Wednesday morning, George, it seems, clamoured to get up at a +quarter-past five, and persuaded them to let him teach them cycling +tricks round the cucumber frames on Harris's new wheel. Even Mrs. +Harris, however, did not blame George on this occasion; she felt +intuitively the idea could not have been entirely his. + +It is not that the Harris children have the faintest notion of avoiding +blame at the expense of a friend and comrade. One and all they are +honesty itself in accepting responsibility for their own misdeeds. It +simply is, that is how the thing presents itself to their understanding. +When you explain to them that you had no original intention of getting up +at five o'clock in the morning to play cricket on the croquet lawn, or to +mimic the history of the early Church by shooting with a cross-bow at +dolls tied to a tree; that as a matter of fact, left to your own +initiative, you would have slept peacefully till roused in Christian +fashion with a cup of tea at eight, they are firstly astonished, secondly +apologetic, and thirdly sincerely contrite. In the present instance, +waiving the purely academic question whether the awakening of George at a +little before five was due to natural instinct on his part, or to the +accidental passing of a home-made boomerang through his bedroom window, +the dear children frankly admitted that the blame for his uprising was +their own. As the eldest boy said: + +"We ought to have remembered that Uncle George had a long day before +him, and we ought to have dissuaded him from getting up. I blame myself +entirely." + +But an occasional change of habit does nobody any harm; and besides, as +Harris and I agreed, it was good training for George. In the Black +Forest we should be up at five every morning; that we had determined on. +Indeed, George himself had suggested half-past four, but Harris and I had +argued that five would be early enough as an average; that would enable +us to be on our machines by six, and to break the back of our journey +before the heat of the day set in. Occasionally we might start a little +earlier, but not as a habit. + +I myself was up that morning at five. This was earlier than I had +intended. I had said to myself on going to sleep, "Six o'clock, sharp!" + +There are men I know who can wake themselves at any time to the minute. +They say to themselves literally, as they lay their heads upon the +pillow, "Four-thirty," "Four-forty-five," or "Five-fifteen," as the case +may be; and as the clock strikes they open their eyes. It is very +wonderful this; the more one dwells upon it, the greater the mystery +grows. Some Ego within us, acting quite independently of our conscious +self, must be capable of counting the hours while we sleep. Unaided by +clock or sun, or any other medium known to our five senses, it keeps +watch through the darkness. At the exact moment it whispers "Time!" and +we awake. The work of an old riverside fellow I once talked with called +him to be out of bed each morning half an hour before high tide. He told +me that never once had he overslept himself by a minute. Latterly, he +never even troubled to work out the tide for himself. He would lie down +tired, and sleep a dreamless sleep, and each morning at a different hour +this ghostly watchman, true as the tide itself, would silently call him. +Did the man's spirit haunt through the darkness the muddy river stairs; +or had it knowledge of the ways of Nature? Whatever the process, the man +himself was unconscious of it. + +In my own case my inward watchman is, perhaps, somewhat out of practice. +He does his best; but he is over-anxious; he worries himself, and loses +count. I say to him, maybe, "Five-thirty, please"; and he wakes me with +a start at half-past two. I look at my watch. He suggests that, +perhaps, I forgot to wind it up. I put it to my ear; it is still going. +He thinks, maybe, something has happened to it; he is confident himself +it is half-past five, if not a little later. To satisfy him, I put on a +pair of slippers and go downstairs to inspect the dining-room clock. What +happens to a man when he wanders about the house in the middle of the +night, clad in a dressing-gown and a pair of slippers, there is no need +to recount; most men know by experience. Everything--especially +everything with a sharp corner--takes a cowardly delight in hitting him. +When you are wearing a pair of stout boots, things get out of your way; +when you venture among furniture in woolwork slippers and no socks, it +comes at you and kicks you. I return to bed bad tempered, and refusing +to listen to his further absurd suggestion that all the clocks in the +house have entered into a conspiracy against me, take half an hour to get +to sleep again. From four to five he wakes me every ten minutes. I wish +I had never said a word to him about the thing. At five o'clock he goes +to sleep himself, worn out, and leaves it to the girl, who does it half +an hour later than usual. + +On this particular Wednesday he worried me to such an extent, that I got +up at five simply to be rid of him. I did not know what to do with +myself. Our train did not leave till eight; all our luggage had been +packed and sent on the night before, together with the bicycles, to +Fenchurch Street Station. I went into my study; I thought I would put in +an hour's writing. The early morning, before one has breakfasted, is +not, I take it, a good season for literary effort. I wrote three +paragraphs of a story, and then read them over to myself. Some unkind +things have been said about my work; but nothing has yet been written +which would have done justice to those three paragraphs. I threw them +into the waste-paper basket, and sat trying to remember what, if any, +charitable institutions provided pensions for decayed authors. + +To escape from this train of reflection, I put a golf-ball in my pocket, +and selecting a driver, strolled out into the paddock. A couple of sheep +were browsing there, and they followed and took a keen interest in my +practice. The one was a kindly, sympathetic old party. I do not think +she understood the game; I think it was my doing this innocent thing so +early in the morning that appealed to her. At every stroke I made she +bleated: + +"Go-o-o-d, go-o-o-d ind-e-e-d!" + +She seemed as pleased as if she had done it herself. + +As for the other one, she was a cantankerous, disagreeable old thing, as +discouraging to me as her friend was helpful. + +"Ba-a-ad, da-a-a-m ba-a-a-d!" was her comment on almost every stroke. As +a matter of fact, some were really excellent strokes; but she did it just +to be contradictory, and for the sake of irritating. I could see that. + +By a most regrettable accident, one of my swiftest balls struck the good +sheep on the nose. And at that the bad sheep laughed--laughed distinctly +and undoubtedly, a husky, vulgar laugh; and, while her friend stood glued +to the ground, too astonished to move, she changed her note for the first +time and bleated: + +"Go-o-o-d, ve-e-ry go-o-o-d! Be-e-e-est sho-o-o-ot he-e-e's ma-a-a-de!" + +I would have given half-a-crown if it had been she I had hit instead of +the other one. It is ever the good and amiable who suffer in this world. + +I had wasted more time than I had intended in the paddock, and when +Ethelbertha came to tell me it was half-past seven, and the breakfast was +on the table, I remembered that I had not shaved. It vexes Ethelbertha +my shaving quickly. She fears that to outsiders it may suggest a poor- +spirited attempt at suicide, and that in consequence it may get about the +neighbourhood that we are not happy together. As a further argument, she +has also hinted that my appearance is not of the kind that can be trifled +with. + +On the whole, I was just as glad not to be able to take a long farewell +of Ethelbertha; I did not want to risk her breaking down. But I should +have liked more opportunity to say a few farewell words of advice to the +children, especially as regards my fishing rod, which they will persist +in using for cricket stumps; and I hate having to run for a train. +Quarter of a mile from the station I overtook George and Harris; they +were also running. In their case--so Harris informed me, jerkily, while +we trotted side by side--it was the new kitchen stove that was to blame. +This was the first morning they had tried it, and from some cause or +other it had blown up the kidneys and scalded the cook. He said he hoped +that by the time we returned they would have got more used to it. + +We caught the train by the skin of our teeth, as the saying is, and +reflecting upon the events of the morning, as we sat gasping in the +carriage, there passed vividly before my mind the panorama of my Uncle +Podger, as on two hundred and fifty days in the year he would start from +Ealing Common by the nine-thirteen train to Moorgate Street. + +From my Uncle Podger's house to the railway station was eight minutes' +walk. What my uncle always said was: + +"Allow yourself a quarter of an hour, and take it easily." + +What he always did was to start five minutes before the time and run. I +do not know why, but this was the custom of the suburb. Many stout City +gentlemen lived at Ealing in those days--I believe some live there +still--and caught early trains to Town. They all started late; they all +carried a black bag and a newspaper in one hand, and an umbrella in the +other; and for the last quarter of a mile to the station, wet or fine, +they all ran. + +Folks with nothing else to do, nursemaids chiefly and errand boys, with +now and then a perambulating costermonger added, would gather on the +common of a fine morning to watch them pass, and cheer the most +deserving. It was not a showy spectacle. They did not run well, they +did not even run fast; but they were earnest, and they did their best. +The exhibition appealed less to one's sense of art than to one's natural +admiration for conscientious effort. + +Occasionally a little harmless betting would take place among the crowd. + +"Two to one agin the old gent in the white weskit!" + +"Ten to one on old Blowpipes, bar he don't roll over hisself 'fore 'e +gets there!" + +"Heven money on the Purple Hemperor!"--a nickname bestowed by a youth of +entomological tastes upon a certain retired military neighbour of my +uncle's,--a gentleman of imposing appearance when stationary, but apt to +colour highly under exercise. + +My uncle and the others would write to the _Ealing Press_ complaining +bitterly concerning the supineness of the local police; and the editor +would add spirited leaders upon the Decay of Courtesy among the Lower +Orders, especially throughout the Western Suburbs. But no good ever +resulted. + +It was not that my uncle did not rise early enough; it was that troubles +came to him at the last moment. The first thing he would do after +breakfast would be to lose his newspaper. We always knew when Uncle +Podger had lost anything, by the expression of astonished indignation +with which, on such occasions, he would regard the world in general. It +never occurred to my Uncle Podger to say to himself: + +"I am a careless old man. I lose everything: I never know where I have +put anything. I am quite incapable of finding it again for myself. In +this respect I must be a perfect nuisance to everybody about me. I must +set to work and reform myself." + +On the contrary, by some peculiar course of reasoning, he had convinced +himself that whenever he lost a thing it was everybody else's fault in +the house but his own. + +"I had it in my hand here not a minute ago!" he would exclaim. + +From his tone you would have thought he was living surrounded by +conjurers, who spirited away things from him merely to irritate him. + +"Could you have left it in the garden?" my aunt would suggest. + +"What should I want to leave it in the garden for? I don't want a paper +in the garden; I want the paper in the train with me." + +"You haven't put it in your pocket?" + +"God bless the woman! Do you think I should be standing here at five +minutes to nine looking for it if I had it in my pocket all the while? Do +you think I'm a fool?" + +Here somebody would explain, "What's this?" and hand him from somewhere a +paper neatly folded. + +"I do wish people would leave my things alone," he would growl, snatching +at it savagely. + +He would open his bag to put it in, and then glancing at it, he would +pause, speechless with sense of injury. + +"What's the matter?" aunt would ask. + +"The day before yesterday's!" he would answer, too hurt even to shout, +throwing the paper down upon the table. + +If only sometimes it had been yesterday's it would have been a change. +But it was always the day before yesterday's; except on Tuesday; then it +would be Saturday's. + +We would find it for him eventually; as often as not he was sitting on +it. And then he would smile, not genially, but with the weariness that +comes to a man who feels that fate has cast his lot among a band of +hopeless idiots. + +"All the time, right in front of your noses--!" He would not finish the +sentence; he prided himself on his self-control. + +This settled, he would start for the hall, where it was the custom of my +Aunt Maria to have the children gathered, ready to say good-bye to him. + +My aunt never left the house herself, if only to make a call next door, +without taking a tender farewell of every inmate. One never knew, she +would say, what might happen. + +One of them, of course, was sure to be missing, and the moment this was +noticed all the other six, without an instant's hesitation, would scatter +with a whoop to find it. Immediately they were gone it would turn up by +itself from somewhere quite near, always with the most reasonable +explanation for its absence; and would at once start off after the others +to explain to them that it was found. In this way, five minutes at least +would be taken up in everybody's looking for everybody else, which was +just sufficient time to allow my uncle to find his umbrella and lose his +hat. Then, at last, the group reassembled in the hall, the drawing-room +clock would commence to strike nine. It possessed a cold, penetrating +chime that always had the effect of confusing my uncle. In his +excitement he would kiss some of the children twice over, pass by others, +forget whom he had kissed and whom he hadn't, and have to begin all over +again. He used to say he believed they mixed themselves up on purpose, +and I am not prepared to maintain that the charge was altogether false. +To add to his troubles, one child always had a sticky face; and that +child would always be the most affectionate. + +If things were going too smoothly, the eldest boy would come out with +some tale about all the clocks in the house being five minutes slow, and +of his having been late for school the previous day in consequence. This +would send my uncle rushing impetuously down to the gate, where he would +recollect that he had with him neither his bag nor his umbrella. All the +children that my aunt could not stop would charge after him, two of them +struggling for the umbrella, the others surging round the bag. And when +they returned we would discover on the hall table the most important +thing of all that he had forgotten, and wondered what he would say about +it when he came home. + +We arrived at Waterloo a little after nine, and at once proceeded to put +George's experiment into operation. Opening the book at the chapter +entitled "At the Cab Rank," we walked up to a hansom, raised our hats, +and wished the driver "Good-morning." + +This man was not to be outdone in politeness by any foreigner, real or +imitation. Calling to a friend named "Charles" to "hold the steed," he +sprang from his box, and returned to us a bow, that would have done +credit to Mr. Turveydrop himself. Speaking apparently in the name of the +nation, he welcomed us to England, adding a regret that Her Majesty was +not at the moment in London. + +We could not reply to him in kind. Nothing of this sort had been +anticipated by the book. We called him "coachman," at which he again +bowed to the pavement, and asked him if he would have the goodness to +drive us to the Westminster Bridge road. + +He laid his hand upon his heart, and said the pleasure would be his. + +Taking the third sentence in the chapter, George asked him what his fare +would be. + +The question, as introducing a sordid element into the conversation, +seemed to hurt his feelings. He said he never took money from +distinguished strangers; he suggested a souvenir--a diamond scarf pin, a +gold snuffbox, some little trifle of that sort by which he could remember +us. + +As a small crowd had collected, and as the joke was drifting rather too +far in the cabman's direction, we climbed in without further parley, and +were driven away amid cheers. We stopped the cab at a boot shop a little +past Astley's Theatre that looked the sort of place we wanted. It was +one of those overfed shops that the moment their shutters are taken down +in the morning disgorge their goods all round them. Boxes of boots stood +piled on the pavement or in the gutter opposite. Boots hung in festoons +about its doors and windows. Its sun-blind was as some grimy vine, +bearing bunches of black and brown boots. Inside, the shop was a bower +of boots. The man, when we entered, was busy with a chisel and hammer +opening a new crate full of boots. + +George raised his hat, and said "Good-morning." + +The man did not even turn round. He struck me from the first as a +disagreeable man. He grunted something which might have been +"Good-morning," or might not, and went on with his work. + +George said: "I have been recommended to your shop by my friend, Mr. X." + +In response, the man should have said: "Mr. X. is a most worthy +gentleman; it will give me the greatest pleasure to serve any friend of +his." + +What he did say was: "Don't know him; never heard of him." + +This was disconcerting. The book gave three or four methods of buying +boots; George had carefully selected the one centred round "Mr. X," as +being of all the most courtly. You talked a good deal with the +shopkeeper about this "Mr. X," and then, when by this means friendship +and understanding had been established, you slid naturally and gracefully +into the immediate object of your coming, namely, your desire for boots, +"cheap and good." This gross, material man cared, apparently, nothing +for the niceties of retail dealing. It was necessary with such an one to +come to business with brutal directness. George abandoned "Mr. X," and +turning back to a previous page, took a sentence at random. It was not a +happy selection; it was a speech that would have been superfluous made to +any bootmaker. Under the present circumstances, threatened and stifled +as we were on every side by boots, it possessed the dignity of positive +imbecility. It ran:--"One has told me that you have here boots for +sale." + +For the first time the man put down his hammer and chisel, and looked at +us. He spoke slowly, in a thick and husky voice. He said: + +"What d'ye think I keep boots for--to smell 'em?" + +He was one of those men that begin quietly and grow more angry as they +proceed, their wrongs apparently working within them like yeast. + +"What d'ye think I am," he continued, "a boot collector? What d'ye think +I'm running this shop for--my health? D'ye think I love the boots, and +can't bear to part with a pair? D'ye think I hang 'em about here to look +at 'em? Ain't there enough of 'em? Where d'ye think you are--in an +international exhibition of boots? What d'ye think these boots are--a +historical collection? Did you ever hear of a man keeping a boot shop +and not selling boots? D'ye think I decorate the shop with 'em to make +it look pretty? What d'ye take me for--a prize idiot?" + +I have always maintained that these conversation books are never of any +real use. What we wanted was some English equivalent for the well-known +German idiom: "Behalten Sie Ihr Haar auf." + +Nothing of the sort was to be found in the book from beginning to end. +However, I will do George the credit to admit he chose the very best +sentence that was to be found therein and applied it. He said: + +"I will come again, when, perhaps, you will have some more boots to show +me. Till then, adieu!" + +With that we returned to our cab and drove away, leaving the man standing +in the centre of his boot-bedecked doorway addressing remarks to us. What +he said, I did not hear, but the passers-by appeared to find it +interesting. + +George was for stopping at another boot shop and trying the experiment +afresh; he said he really did want a pair of bedroom slippers. But we +persuaded him to postpone their purchase until our arrival in some +foreign city, where the tradespeople are no doubt more inured to this +sort of talk, or else more naturally amiable. On the subject of the hat, +however, he was adamant. He maintained that without that he could not +travel, and, accordingly, we pulled up at a small shop in the Blackfriars +Road. + +The proprietor of this shop was a cheery, bright-eyed little man, and he +helped us rather than hindered us. + +When George asked him in the words of the book, "Have you any hats?" he +did not get angry; he just stopped and thoughtfully scratched his chin. + +"Hats," said he. "Let me think. Yes"--here a smile of positive pleasure +broke over his genial countenance--"yes, now I come to think of it, I +believe I have a hat. But, tell me, why do you ask me?" + +George explained to him that he wished to purchase a cap, a travelling +cap, but the essence of the transaction was that it was to be a "good +cap." + +The man's face fell. + +"Ah," he remarked, "there, I am afraid, you have me. Now, if you had +wanted a bad cap, not worth the price asked for it; a cap good for +nothing but to clean windows with, I could have found you the very thing. +But a good cap--no; we don't keep them. But wait a minute," he +continued,--on seeing the disappointment that spread over George's +expressive countenance, "don't be in a hurry. I have a cap here"--he +went to a drawer and opened it--"it is not a good cap, but it is not so +bad as most of the caps I sell." + +He brought it forward, extended on his palm. + +"What do you think of that?" he asked. "Could you put up with that?" + +George fitted it on before the glass, and, choosing another remark from +the book, said: + +"This hat fits me sufficiently well, but, tell me, do you consider that +it becomes me?" + +The man stepped back and took a bird's-eye view. + +"Candidly," he replied, "I can't say that it does." + +He turned from George, and addressed himself to Harris and myself. + +"Your friend's beauty," said he, "I should describe as elusive. It is +there, but you can easily miss it. Now, in that cap, to my mind, you do +miss it." + +At that point it occurred to George that he had had sufficient fun with +this particular man. He said: + +"That is all right. We don't want to lose the train. How much?" + +Answered the man: "The price of that cap, sir, which, in my opinion, is +twice as much as it is worth, is four-and-six. Would you like it wrapped +up in brown paper, sir, or in white?" + +George said he would take it as it was, paid the man four-and-six +in silver, and went out. Harris and I followed. + +At Fenchurch Street we compromised with our cabman for five shillings. He +made us another courtly bow, and begged us to remember him to the Emperor +of Austria. + +Comparing views in the train, we agreed that we had lost the game by two +points to one; and George, who was evidently disappointed, threw the book +out of window. + +We found our luggage and the bicycles safe on the boat, and with the tide +at twelve dropped down the river. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +A necessary digression--Introduced by story containing moral--One of the +charms of this book--The Journal that did not command success--Its boast: +"Instruction combined with Amusement"--Problem: say what should be +considered instructive and what amusing--A popular game--Expert opinion +on English law--Another of the charms of this book--A hackneyed tune--Yet +a third charm of this book--The sort of wood it was where the maiden +lived--Description of the Black Forest. + +A story is told of a Scotchman who, loving a lassie, desired her for his +wife. But he possessed the prudence of his race. He had noticed in his +circle many an otherwise promising union result in disappointment and +dismay, purely in consequence of the false estimate formed by bride or +bridegroom concerning the imagined perfectability of the other. He +determined that in his own case no collapsed ideal should be possible. +Therefore, it was that his proposal took the following form: + +"I'm but a puir lad, Jennie; I hae nae siller to offer ye, and nae land." + +"Ah, but ye hae yoursel', Davie!" + +"An' I'm wishfu' it wa' onything else, lassie. I'm nae but a puir ill- +seasoned loon, Jennie." + +"Na, na; there's mony a lad mair ill-looking than yoursel', Davie." + +"I hae na seen him, lass, and I'm just a-thinkin' I shouldna' care to." + +"Better a plain man, Davie, that ye can depend a' than ane that would be +a speirin' at the lassies, a-bringin' trouble into the hame wi' his +flouting ways." + +"Dinna ye reckon on that, Jennie; it's nae the bonniest Bubbly Jock that +mak's the most feathers to fly in the kailyard. I was ever a lad to run +after the petticoats, as is weel kent; an' it's a weary handfu' I'll be +to ye, I'm thinkin'." + +"Ah, but ye hae a kind heart, Davie! an' ye love me weel. I'm sure +on't." + +"I like ye weel enoo', Jennie, though I canna say how long the feeling +may bide wi' me; an' I'm kind enoo' when I hae my ain way, an' naethin' +happens to put me oot. But I hae the deevil's ain temper, as my mither +call tell ye, an' like my puir fayther, I'm a-thinkin', I'll grow nae +better as I grow mair auld." + +"Ay, but ye're sair hard upon yersel', Davie. Ye're an honest lad. I +ken ye better than ye ken yersel', an' ye'll mak a guid hame for me." + +"Maybe, Jennie! But I hae my doots. It's a sair thing for wife an' +bairns when the guid man canna keep awa' frae the glass; an' when the +scent of the whusky comes to me it's just as though I hae'd the throat o' +a Loch Tay salmon; it just gaes doon an' doon, an' there's nae filling o' +me." + +"Ay, but ye're a guid man when ye're sober, Davie." + +"Maybe I'll be that, Jennie, if I'm nae disturbed." + +"An' ye'll bide wi' me, Davie, an' work for me?" + +"I see nae reason why I shouldna bide wi' yet Jennie; but dinna ye clack +aboot work to me, for I just canna bear the thoct o't." + +"Anyhow, ye'll do your best, Davie? As the minister says, nae man can do +mair than that." + +"An' it's a puir best that mine'll be, Jennie, and I'm nae sae sure ye'll +hae ower muckle even o' that. We're a' weak, sinfu' creatures, Jennie, +an' ye'd hae some deefficulty to find a man weaker or mair sinfu' than +mysel'." + +"Weel, weel, ye hae a truthfu' tongue, Davie. Mony a lad will mak fine +promises to a puir lassie, only to break 'em an' her heart wi' 'em. Ye +speak me fair, Davie, and I'm thinkin' I'll just tak ye, an' see what +comes o't." + +Concerning what did come of it, the story is silent, but one feels that +under no circumstances had the lady any right to complain of her bargain. +Whether she ever did or did not--for women do not invariably order their +tongues according to logic, nor men either for the matter of that--Davie, +himself, must have had the satisfaction of reflecting that all reproaches +were undeserved. + +I wish to be equally frank with the reader of this book. I wish here +conscientiously to let forth its shortcomings. I wish no one to read +this book under a misapprehension. + +There will be no useful information in this book. + +Anyone who should think that with the aid of this book he would be able +to make a tour through Germany and the Black Forest would probably lose +himself before he got to the Nore. That, at all events, would be the +best thing that could happen to him. The farther away from home he got, +the greater only would be his difficulties. + +I do not regard the conveyance of useful information as my _forte_. This +belief was not inborn with me; it has been driven home upon me by +experience. + +In my early journalistic days, I served upon a paper, the forerunner of +many very popular periodicals of the present day. Our boast was that we +combined instruction with amusement; as to what should be regarded as +affording amusement and what instruction, the reader judged for himself. +We gave advice to people about to marry--long, earnest advice that would, +had they followed it, have made our circle of readers the envy of the +whole married world. We told our subscribers how to make fortunes by +keeping rabbits, giving facts and figures. The thing that must have +surprised them was that we ourselves did not give up journalism and start +rabbit-farming. Often and often have I proved conclusively from +authoritative sources how a man starting a rabbit farm with twelve +selected rabbits and a little judgment must, at the end of three years, +be in receipt of an income of two thousand a year, rising rapidly; he +simply could not help himself. He might not want the money. He might +not know what to do with it when he had it. But there it was for him. I +have never met a rabbit farmer myself worth two thousand a year, though I +have known many start with the twelve necessary, assorted rabbits. +Something has always gone wrong somewhere; maybe the continued atmosphere +of a rabbit farm saps the judgment. + +We told our readers how many bald-headed men there were in Iceland, and +for all we knew our figures may have been correct; how many red herrings +placed tail to mouth it would take to reach from London to Rome, which +must have been useful to anyone desirous of laying down a line of red +herrings from London to Rome, enabling him to order in the right quantity +at the beginning; how many words the average woman spoke in a day; and +other such like items of information calculated to make them wise and +great beyond the readers of other journals. + +We told them how to cure fits in cats. Personally I do not believe, and +I did not believe then, that you can cure fits in cats. If I had a cat +subject to fits I should advertise it for sale, or even give it away. But +our duty was to supply information when asked for. Some fool wrote, +clamouring to know; and I spent the best part of a morning seeking +knowledge on the subject. I found what I wanted at length at the end of +an old cookery book. What it was doing there I have never been able to +understand. It had nothing to do with the proper subject of the book +whatever; there was no suggestion that you could make anything savoury +out of a cat, even when you had cured it of its fits. The authoress had +just thrown in this paragraph out of pure generosity. I can only say +that I wish she had left it out; it was the cause of a deal of angry +correspondence and of the loss of four subscribers to the paper, if not +more. The man said the result of following our advice had been two +pounds worth of damage to his kitchen crockery, to say nothing of a +broken window and probable blood poisoning to himself; added to which the +cat's fits were worse than before. And yet it was a simple enough +recipe. You held the cat between your legs, gently, so as not to hurt +it, and with a pair of scissors made a sharp, clean cut in its tail. You +did not cut off any part of the tail; you were to be careful not to do +that; you only made an incision. + +As we explained to the man, the garden or the coal cellar would have been +the proper place for the operation; no one but an idiot would have +attempted to perform it in a kitchen, and without help. + +We gave them hints on etiquette. We told them how to address peers and +bishops; also how to eat soup. We instructed shy young men how to +acquire easy grace in drawing-rooms. We taught dancing to both sexes by +the aid of diagrams. We solved their religious doubts for them, and +supplied them with a code of morals that would have done credit to a +stained-glass window. + +The paper was not a financial success, it was some years before its +time, and the consequence was that our staff was limited. My own +department, I remember, included "Advice to Mothers"--I wrote that with +the assistance of my landlady, who, having divorced one husband and +buried four children, was, I considered, a reliable authority on all +domestic matters; "Hints on Furnishing and Household Decorations--with +Designs"; a column of "Literary Counsel to Beginners"--I sincerely hope +my guidance was of better service to them than it has ever proved to +myself; and our weekly article, "Straight Talks to Young Men," signed +"Uncle Henry." A kindly, genial old fellow was "Uncle Henry," with +wide and varied experience, and a sympathetic attitude towards the +rising generation. He had been through trouble himself in his far back +youth, and knew most things. Even to this day I read of "Uncle Henry's" +advice, and, though I say it who should not, it still seems to me good, +sound advice. I often think that had I followed "Uncle Henry's" counsel +closer I would have been wiser, made fewer mistakes, felt better +satisfied with myself than is now the case. + +A quiet, weary little woman, who lived in a bed-sitting room off the +Tottenham Court Road, and who had a husband in a lunatic asylum, did our +"Cooking Column," "Hints on Education"--we were full of hints,--and a +page and a half of "Fashionable Intelligence," written in the pertly +personal style which even yet has not altogether disappeared, so I am +informed, from modern journalism: "I must tell you about the _divine_ +frock I wore at 'Glorious Goodwood' last week. Prince C.--but there, I +really must not repeat all the things the silly fellow says; he is _too_ +foolish--and the _dear_ Countess, I fancy, was just the _weeish_ bit +jealous"--and so on. + +Poor little woman! I see her now in the shabby grey alpaca, with the +inkstains on it. Perhaps a day at "Glorious Goodwood," or anywhere else +in the fresh air, might have put some colour into her cheeks. + +Our proprietor--one of the most unashamedly ignorant men I ever met--I +remember his gravely informing a correspondent once that Ben Jonson had +written _Rabelais_ to pay for his mother's funeral, and only laughing +good-naturedly when his mistakes were pointed out to him--wrote with the +aid of a cheap encyclopedia the pages devoted to "General Information," +and did them on the whole remarkably well; while our office boy, with an +excellent pair of scissors for his assistant, was responsible for our +supply of "Wit and Humour." + +It was hard work, and the pay was poor; what sustained us was the +consciousness that we were instructing and improving our fellow men and +women. Of all games in the world, the one most universally and eternally +popular is the game of school. You collect six children, and put them on +a doorstep, while you walk up and down with the book and cane. We play +it when babies, we play it when boys and girls, we play it when men and +women, we play it as, lean and slippered, we totter towards the grave. It +never palls upon, it never wearies us. Only one thing mars it: the +tendency of one and all of the other six children to clamour for their +turn with the book and the cane. The reason, I am sure, that journalism +is so popular a calling, in spite of its many drawbacks, is this: each +journalist feels he is the boy walking up and down with the cane. The +Government, the Classes, and the Masses, Society, Art, and Literature, +are the other children sitting on the doorstep. He instructs and +improves them. + +But I digress. It was to excuse my present permanent disinclination to +be the vehicle of useful information that I recalled these matters. Let +us now return. + +Somebody, signing himself "Balloonist," had written to ask concerning the +manufacture of hydrogen gas. It is an easy thing to manufacture--at +least, so I gathered after reading up the subject at the British Museum; +yet I did warn "Balloonist," whoever he might be, to take all necessary +precaution against accident. What more could I have done? Ten days +afterwards a florid-faced lady called at the office, leading by the hand +what, she explained, was her son, aged twelve. The boy's face was +unimpressive to a degree positively remarkable. His mother pushed him +forward and took off his hat, and then I perceived the reason for this. +He had no eyebrows whatever, and of his hair nothing remained but a +scrubby dust, giving to his head the appearance of a hard-boiled egg, +skinned and sprinkled with black pepper. + +"That was a handsome lad this time last week, with naturally curly hair," +remarked the lady. She spoke with a rising inflection, suggestive of the +beginning of things. + +"What has happened to him?" asked our chief. + +"This is what's happened to him," retorted the lady. She drew from her +muff a copy of our last week's issue, with my article on hydrogen gas +scored in pencil, and flung it before his eyes. Our chief took it and +read it through. + +"He was 'Balloonist'?" queried the chief. + +"He was 'Balloonist,'" admitted the lady, "the poor innocent child, and +now look at him!" + +"Maybe it'll grow again," suggested our chief. + +"Maybe it will," retorted the lady, her key continuing to rise, "and +maybe it won't. What I want to know is what you are going to do for +him." + +Our chief suggested a hair wash. I thought at first she was going to fly +at him; but for the moment she confined herself to words. It appears she +was not thinking of a hair wash, but of compensation. She also made +observations on the general character of our paper, its utility, its +claim to public support, the sense and wisdom of its contributors. + +"I really don't see that it is our fault," urged the chief--he was a mild- +mannered man; "he asked for information, and he got it." + +"Don't you try to be funny about it," said the lady (he had not meant to +be funny, I am sure; levity was not his failing) "or you'll get something +that _you_ haven't asked for. Why, for two pins," said the lady, with a +suddenness that sent us both flying like scuttled chickens behind our +respective chairs, "I'd come round and make your head like it!" I take +it, she meant like the boy's. She also added observations upon our +chief's personal appearance, that were distinctly in bad taste. She was +not a nice woman by any means. + +Myself, I am of opinion that had she brought the action she threatened, +she would have had no case; but our chief was a man who had had +experience of the law, and his principle was always to avoid it. I have +heard him say: + +"If a man stopped me in the street and demanded of me my watch, I should +refuse to give it to him. If he threatened to take it by force, I feel I +should, though not a fighting man, do my best to protect it. If, on the +other hand, he should assert his intention of trying to obtain it by +means of an action in any court of law, I should take it out of my pocket +and hand it to him, and think I had got off cheaply." + +He squared the matter with the florid-faced lady for a five-pound note, +which must have represented a month's profits on the paper; and she +departed, taking her damaged offspring with her. After she was gone, our +chief spoke kindly to me. He said: + +"Don't think I am blaming you in the least; it is not your fault, it is +Fate. Keep to moral advice and criticism--there you are distinctly good; +but don't try your hand any more on 'Useful Information.' As I have +said, it is not your fault. Your information is correct enough--there is +nothing to be said against that; it simply is that you are not lucky with +it." + +I would that I had followed his advice always; I would have saved myself +and other people much disaster. I see no reason why it should be, but so +it is. If I instruct a man as to the best route between London and Rome, +he loses his luggage in Switzerland, or is nearly shipwrecked off Dover. +If I counsel him in the purchase of a camera, he gets run in by the +German police for photographing fortresses. I once took a deal of +trouble to explain to a man how to marry his deceased wife's sister at +Stockholm. I found out for him the time the boat left Hull and the best +hotels to stop at. There was not a single mistake from beginning to end +in the information with which I supplied him; no hitch occurred anywhere; +yet now he never speaks to me. + +Therefore it is that I have come to restrain my passion for the giving of +information; therefore it is that nothing in the nature of practical +instruction will be found, if I can help it, within these pages. + +There will be no description of towns, no historical reminiscences, no +architecture, no morals. + +I once asked an intelligent foreigner what he thought of London. + +He said: "It is a very big town." + +I said: "What struck you most about it?" + +He replied: "The people." + +I said: "Compared with other towns--Paris, Rome, Berlin,--what did you +think of it?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. "It is bigger," he said; "what more can one +say?" + +One anthill is very much like another. So many avenues, wide or narrow, +where the little creatures swarm in strange confusion; these bustling by, +important; these halting to pow-wow with one another. These struggling +with big burdens; those but basking in the sun. So many granaries stored +with food; so many cells where the little things sleep, and eat, and +love; the corner where lie their little white bones. This hive is +larger, the next smaller. This nest lies on the sand, and another under +the stones. This was built but yesterday, while that was fashioned ages +ago, some say even before the swallows came; who knows? + +Nor will there be found herein folk-lore or story. + +Every valley where lie homesteads has its song. I will tell you the +plot; you can turn it into verse and set it to music of your own. + +There lived a lass, and there came a lad, who loved and rode away. + +It is a monotonous song, written in many languages; for the young man +seems to have been a mighty traveller. Here in sentimental Germany they +remember him well. So also the dwellers of the Blue Alsatian Mountains +remember his coming among them; while, if my memory serves me truly, he +likewise visited the Banks of Allan Water. A veritable Wandering Jew is +he; for still the foolish girls listen, so they say, to the dying away of +his hoof-beats. + +In this land of many ruins, that long while ago were voice-filled homes, +linger many legends; and here again, giving you the essentials, I leave +you to cook the dish for yourself. Take a human heart or two, assorted; +a bundle of human passions--there are not many of them, half a dozen at +the most; season with a mixture of good and evil; flavour the whole with +the sauce of death, and serve up where and when you will. "The Saint's +Cell," "The Haunted Keep," "The Dungeon Grave," "The Lover's Leap"--call +it what you will, the stew's the same. + +Lastly, in this book there will be no scenery. This is not laziness on +my part; it is self-control. Nothing is easier to write than scenery; +nothing more difficult and unnecessary to read. When Gibbon had to trust +to travellers' tales for a description of the Hellespont, and the Rhine +was chiefly familiar to English students through the medium of _Caesar's +Commentaries_, it behoved every globe-trotter, for whatever distance, to +describe to the best of his ability the things that he had seen. Dr. +Johnson, familiar with little else than the view down Fleet Street, could +read the description of a Yorkshire moor with pleasure and with profit. +To a cockney who had never seen higher ground than the Hog's Back in +Surrey, an account of Snowdon must have appeared exciting. But we, or +rather the steam-engine and the camera for us, have changed all that. The +man who plays tennis every year at the foot of the Matterhorn, and +billiards on the summit of the Rigi, does not thank you for an elaborate +and painstaking description of the Grampian Hills. To the average man, +who has seen a dozen oil paintings, a hundred photographs, a thousand +pictures in the illustrated journals, and a couple of panoramas of +Niagara, the word-painting of a waterfall is tedious. + +An American friend of mine, a cultured gentleman, who loved poetry well +enough for its own sake, told me that he had obtained a more correct and +more satisfying idea of the Lake district from an eighteenpenny book of +photographic views than from all the works of Coleridge, Southey, and +Wordsworth put together. I also remember his saying concerning this +subject of scenery in literature, that he would thank an author as much +for writing an eloquent description of what he had just had for dinner. +But this was in reference to another argument; namely, the proper +province of each art. My friend maintained that just as canvas and +colour were the wrong mediums for story telling, so word-painting was, at +its best, but a clumsy method of conveying impressions that could much +better be received through the eye. + +As regards the question, there also lingers in my memory very distinctly +a hot school afternoon. The class was for English literature, and the +proceedings commenced with the reading of a certain lengthy, but +otherwise unobjectionable, poem. The author's name, I am ashamed to say, +I have forgotten, together with the title of the poem. The reading +finished, we closed our books, and the Professor, a kindly, white-haired +old gentleman, suggested our giving in our own words an account of what +we had just read. + +"Tell me," said the Professor, encouragingly, "what it is all about." + +"Please, sir," said the first boy--he spoke with bowed head and evident +reluctance, as though the subject were one which, left to himself, he +would never have mentioned,--"it is about a maiden." + +"Yes," agreed the Professor; "but I want you to tell me in your own +words. We do not speak of a maiden, you know; we say a girl. Yes, it is +about a girl. Go on." + +"A girl," repeated the top boy, the substitution apparently increasing +his embarrassment, "who lived in a wood." + +"What sort of a wood?" asked the Professor. + +The first boy examined his inkpot carefully, and then looked at the +ceiling. + +"Come," urged the Professor, growing impatient, "you have been reading +about this wood for the last ten minutes. Surely you can tell me +something concerning it." + +"The gnarly trees, their twisted branches"--recommenced the top boy. + +"No, no," interrupted the Professor; "I do not want you to repeat the +poem. I want you to tell me in your own words what sort of a wood it was +where the girl lived." + +The Professor tapped his foot impatiently; the top boy made a dash for +it. + +"Please, sir, it was the usual sort of a wood." + +"Tell him what sort of a wood," said he, pointing to the second lad. + +The second boy said it was a "green wood." This annoyed the Professor +still more; he called the second boy a blockhead, though really I cannot +see why, and passed on to the third, who, for the last minute, had been +sitting apparently on hot plates, with his right arm waving up and down +like a distracted semaphore signal. He would have had to say it the next +second, whether the Professor had asked him or not; he was red in the +face, holding his knowledge in. + +"A dark and gloomy wood," shouted the third boy, with much relief to his +feelings. + +"A dark and gloomy wood," repeated the Professor, with evident approval. +"And why was it dark and gloomy?" + +The third boy was still equal to the occasion. + +"Because the sun could not get inside it." + +The Professor felt he had discovered the poet of the class. + +"Because the sun could not get into it, or, better, because the sunbeams +could not penetrate. And why could not the sunbeams penetrate there?" + +"Please, sir, because the leaves were too thick." + +"Very well," said the Professor. "The girl lived in a dark and gloomy +wood, through the leafy canopy of which the sunbeams were unable to +pierce. Now, what grew in this wood?" He pointed to the fourth boy. + +"Please, sir, trees, sir." + +"And what else?" + +"Toadstools, sir." This after a pause. + +The Professor was not quite sure about the toadstools, but on referring +to the text he found that the boy was right; toadstools had been +mentioned. + +"Quite right," admitted the Professor, "toadstools grew there. And what +else? What do you find underneath trees in a wood?" + +"Please, sir, earth, sir." + +"No; no; what grows in a wood besides trees?" + +"Oh, please, sir, bushes, sir." + +"Bushes; very good. Now we are getting on. In this wood there were +trees and bushes. And what else?" + +He pointed to a small boy near the bottom, who having decided that the +wood was too far off to be of any annoyance to him, individually, was +occupying his leisure playing noughts and crosses against himself. Vexed +and bewildered, but feeling it necessary to add something to the +inventory, he hazarded blackberries. This was a mistake; the poet had +not mentioned blackberries. + +"Of course, Klobstock would think of something to eat," commented the +Professor, who prided himself on his ready wit. This raised a laugh +against Klobstock, and pleased the Professor. + +"You," continued he, pointing to a boy in the middle; "what else was +there in this wood besides trees and bushes?" + +"Please, sir, there was a torrent there." + +"Quite right; and what did the torrent do?" + +"Please, sir, it gurgled." + +"No; no. Streams gurgle, torrents--?" + +"Roar, sir." + +"It roared. And what made it roar?" + +This was a poser. One boy--he was not our prize intellect, I +admit--suggested the girl. To help us the Professor put his question in +another form: + +"When did it roar?" + +Our third boy, again coming to the rescue, explained that it roared when +it fell down among the rocks. I think some of us had a vague idea that +it must have been a cowardly torrent to make such a noise about a little +thing like this; a pluckier torrent, we felt, would have got up and gone +on, saying nothing about it. A torrent that roared every time it fell +upon a rock we deemed a poor spirited torrent; but the Professor seemed +quite content with it. + +"And what lived in this wood beside the girl?" was the next question. + +"Please, sir, birds, sir." + +"Yes, birds lived in this wood. What else?" + +Birds seemed to have exhausted our ideas. + +"Come," said the Professor, "what are those animals with tails, that run +up trees?" + +We thought for a while, then one of us suggested cats. + +This was an error; the poet had said nothing about cats; squirrels was +what the Professor was trying to get. + +I do not recall much more about this wood in detail. I only recollect +that the sky was introduced into it. In places where there occurred an +opening among the trees you could by looking up see the sky above you; +very often there were clouds in this sky, and occasionally, if I remember +rightly, the girl got wet. + +I have dwelt upon this incident, because it seems to me suggestive of the +whole question of scenery in literature. I could not at the time, I +cannot now, understand why the top boy's summary was not sufficient. With +all due deference to the poet, whoever he may have been, one cannot but +acknowledge that his wood was, and could not be otherwise than, "the +usual sort of a wood." + +I could describe the Black Forest to you at great length. I could +translate to you Hebel, the poet of the Black Forest. I could write +pages concerning its rocky gorges and its smiling valleys, its pine-clad +slopes, its rock-crowned summits, its foaming rivulets (where the tidy +German has not condemned them to flow respectably through wooden troughs +or drainpipes), its white villages, its lonely farmsteads. + +But I am haunted by the suspicion you might skip all this. Were you +sufficiently conscientious--or weak-minded enough--not to do so, I +should, all said and done, succeed in conveying to you only an impression +much better summed up in the simple words of the unpretentious guide +book: + +"A picturesque, mountainous district, bounded on the south and the west +by the plain of the Rhine, towards which its spurs descend precipitately. +Its geological formation consists chiefly of variegated sandstone and +granite; its lower heights being covered with extensive pine forests. It +is well watered with numerous streams, while its populous valleys are +fertile and well cultivated. The inns are good; but the local wines +should be partaken of by the stranger with discretion." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Why we went to Hanover--Something they do better abroad--The art of +polite foreign conversation, as taught in English schools--A true +history, now told for the first time--The French joke, as provided for +the amusement of British youth--Fatherly instincts of Harris--The road- +waterer, considered as an artist--Patriotism of George--What Harris ought +to have done--What he did--We save Harris's life--A sleepless city--The +cab-horse as a critic. + +We arrived in Hamburg on Friday after a smooth and uneventful voyage; and +from Hamburg we travelled to Berlin by way of Hanover. It is not the +most direct route. I can only account for our visit to Hanover as the +nigger accounted to the magistrate for his appearance in the Deacon's +poultry-yard. + +"Well?" + +"Yes, sar, what the constable sez is quite true, sar; I was dar, sar." + +"Oh, so you admit it? And what were you doing with a sack, pray, in +Deacon Abraham's poultry-yard at twelve o'clock at night?" + +"I'se gwine ter tell yer, sar; yes, sar. I'd been to Massa Jordan's wid +a sack of melons. Yes, sar; an' Massa Jordan he wuz very 'greeable, an' +axed me for ter come in." + +"Well?" + +"Yes, sar, very 'greeable man is Massa Jordan. An' dar we sat a talking +an' a talking--" + +"Very likely. What we want to know is what you were doing in the +Deacon's poultry-yard?" + +"Yes, sar, dat's what I'se cumming to. It wuz ver' late 'fore I left +Massa Jordan's, an' den I sez ter mysel', sez I, now yer jest step out +with yer best leg foremost, Ulysses, case yer gets into trouble wid de +ole woman. Ver' talkative woman she is, sar, very--" + +"Yes, never mind her; there are other people very talkative in this town +besides your wife. Deacon Abraham's house is half a mile out of your way +home from Mr. Jordan's. How did you get there?" + +"Dat's what I'm a-gwine ter explain, sar." + +"I am glad of that. And how do you propose to do it?" + +"Well, I'se thinkin', sar, I must ha' digressed." + +I take it we digressed a little. + +At first, from some reason or other, Hanover strikes you as an +uninteresting town, but it grows upon you. It is in reality two towns; a +place of broad, modern, handsome streets and tasteful gardens; side by +side with a sixteenth-century town, where old timbered houses overhang +the narrow lanes; where through low archways one catches glimpses of +galleried courtyards, once often thronged, no doubt, with troops of +horse, or blocked with lumbering coach and six, waiting its rich merchant +owner, and his fat placid Frau, but where now children and chickens +scuttle at their will; while over the carved balconies hang dingy clothes +a-drying. + +A singularly English atmosphere hovers over Hanover, especially on +Sundays, when its shuttered shops and clanging bells give to it the +suggestion of a sunnier London. Nor was this British Sunday atmosphere +apparent only to myself, else I might have attributed it to imagination; +even George felt it. Harris and I, returning from a short stroll with +our cigars after lunch on the Sunday afternoon, found him peacefully +slumbering in the smoke-room's easiest chair. + +"After all," said Harris, "there is something about the British Sunday +that appeals to the man with English blood in his veins. I should be +sorry to see it altogether done away with, let the new generation say +what it will." + +And taking one each end of the ample settee, we kept George company. + +To Hanover one should go, they say, to learn the best German. The +disadvantage is that outside Hanover, which is only a small province, +nobody understands this best German. Thus you have to decide whether to +speak good German and remain in Hanover, or bad German and travel about. +Germany being separated so many centuries into a dozen principalities, is +unfortunate in possessing a variety of dialects. Germans from Posen +wishful to converse with men of Wurtemburg, have to talk as often as not +in French or English; and young ladies who have received an expensive +education in Westphalia surprise and disappoint their parents by being +unable to understand a word said to them in Mechlenberg. An +English-speaking foreigner, it is true, would find himself equally +nonplussed among the Yorkshire wolds, or in the purlieus of Whitechapel; +but the cases are not on all fours. Throughout Germany it is not only in +the country districts and among the uneducated that dialects are +maintained. Every province has practically its own language, of which it +is proud and retentive. An educated Bavarian will admit to you that, +academically speaking, the North German is more correct; but he will +continue to speak South German and to teach it to his children. + +In the course of the century, I am inclined to think that Germany will +solve her difficulty in this respect by speaking English. Every boy and +girl in Germany, above the peasant class, speaks English. Were English +pronunciation less arbitrary, there is not the slightest doubt but that +in the course of a very few years, comparatively speaking, it would +become the language of the world. All foreigners agree that, +grammatically, it is the easiest language of any to learn. A German, +comparing it with his own language, where every word in every sentence is +governed by at least four distinct and separate rules, tells you that +English has no grammar. A good many English people would seem to have +come to the same conclusion; but they are wrong. As a matter of fact, +there is an English grammar, and one of these days our schools will +recognise the fact, and it will be taught to our children, penetrating +maybe even into literary and journalistic circles. But at present we +appear to agree with the foreigner that it is a quantity neglectable. +English pronunciation is the stumbling-block to our progress. English +spelling would seem to have been designed chiefly as a disguise to +pronunciation. It is a clever idea, calculated to check presumption on +the part of the foreigner; but for that he would learn it in a year. + +For they have a way of teaching languages in Germany that is not our way, +and the consequence is that when the German youth or maiden leaves the +gymnasium or high school at fifteen, "it" (as in Germany one conveniently +may say) can understand and speak the tongue it has been learning. In +England we have a method that for obtaining the least possible result at +the greatest possible expenditure of time and money is perhaps +unequalled. An English boy who has been through a good middle-class +school in England can talk to a Frenchman, slowly and with difficulty, +about female gardeners and aunts; conversation which, to a man possessed +perhaps of neither, is liable to pall. Possibly, if he be a bright +exception, he may be able to tell the time, or make a few guarded +observations concerning the weather. No doubt he could repeat a goodly +number of irregular verbs by heart; only, as a matter of fact, few +foreigners care to listen to their own irregular verbs, recited by young +Englishmen. Likewise he might be able to remember a choice selection of +grotesquely involved French idioms, such as no modern Frenchman has ever +heard or understands when he does hear. + +The explanation is that, in nine cases out of ten, he has learnt French +from an "Ahn's First-Course." The history of this famous work is +remarkable and instructive. The book was originally written for a joke, +by a witty Frenchman who had resided for some years in England. He +intended it as a satire upon the conversational powers of British +society. From this point of view it was distinctly good. He submitted +it to a London publishing firm. The manager was a shrewd man. He read +the book through. Then he sent for the author. + +"This book of yours," said he to the author, "is very clever. I have +laughed over it myself till the tears came." + +"I am delighted to hear you say so," replied the pleased Frenchman. "I +tried to be truthful without being unnecessarily offensive." + +"It is most amusing," concurred the manager; "and yet published as a +harmless joke, I feel it would fail." + +The author's face fell. + +"Its humour," proceeded the manager, "would be denounced as forced and +extravagant. It would amuse the thoughtful and intelligent, but from a +business point of view that portion of the public are never worth +considering. But I have an idea," continued the manager. He glanced +round the room to be sure they were alone, and leaning forward sunk his +voice to a whisper. "My notion is to publish it as a serious work for +the use of schools!" + +The author stared, speechless. + +"I know the English schoolman," said the manager; "this book will appeal +to him. It will exactly fit in with his method. Nothing sillier, +nothing more useless for the purpose will he ever discover. He will +smack his lips over the book, as a puppy licks up blacking." + +The author, sacrificing art to greed, consented. They altered the title +and added a vocabulary, but left the book otherwise as it was. + +The result is known to every schoolboy. "Ahn" became the palladium of +English philological education. If it no longer retains its ubiquity, it +is because something even less adaptable to the object in view has been +since invented. + +Lest, in spite of all, the British schoolboy should obtain, even from the +like of "Ahn," some glimmering of French, the British educational method +further handicaps him by bestowing upon him the assistance of, what is +termed in the prospectus, "A native gentleman." This native French +gentleman, who, by-the-by, is generally a Belgian, is no doubt a most +worthy person, and can, it is true, understand and speak his own language +with tolerable fluency. There his qualifications cease. Invariably he +is a man with a quite remarkable inability to teach anybody anything. +Indeed, he would seem to be chosen not so much as an instructor as an +amuser of youth. He is always a comic figure. No Frenchman of a +dignified appearance would be engaged for any English school. If he +possess by nature a few harmless peculiarities, calculated to cause +merriment, so much the more is he esteemed by his employers. The class +naturally regards him as an animated joke. The two to four hours a week +that are deliberately wasted on this ancient farce, are looked forward to +by the boys as a merry interlude in an otherwise monotonous existence. +And then, when the proud parent takes his son and heir to Dieppe merely +to discover that the lad does not know enough to call a cab, he abuses +not the system, but its innocent victim. + +I confine my remarks to French, because that is the only language we +attempt to teach our youth. An English boy who could speak German would +be looked down upon as unpatriotic. Why we waste time in teaching even +French according to this method I have never been able to understand. A +perfect unacquaintance with a language is respectable. But putting aside +comic journalists and lady novelists, for whom it is a business +necessity, this smattering of French which we are so proud to possess +only serves to render us ridiculous. + +In the German school the method is somewhat different. One hour every +day is devoted to the same language. The idea is not to give the lad +time between each lesson to forget what he learned at the last; the idea +is for him to get on. There is no comic foreigner provided for his +amusement. The desired language is taught by a German school-master who +knows it inside and out as thoroughly as he knows his own. Maybe this +system does not provide the German youth with that perfection of foreign +accent for which the British tourist is in every land remarkable, but it +has other advantages. The boy does not call his master "froggy," or +"sausage," nor prepare for the French or English hour any exhibition of +homely wit whatever. He just sits there, and for his own sake tries to +learn that foreign tongue with as little trouble to everybody concerned +as possible. When he has left school he can talk, not about penknives +and gardeners and aunts merely, but about European politics, history, +Shakespeare, or the musical glasses, according to the turn the +conversation may take. + +Viewing the German people from an Anglo-Saxon standpoint, it may be that +in this book I shall find occasion to criticise them: but on the other +hand there is much that we might learn from them; and in the matter of +common sense, as applied to education, they can give us ninety-nine in a +hundred and beat us with one hand. + +The beautiful wood of the Eilenriede bounds Hanover on the south and +west, and here occurred a sad drama in which Harris took a prominent +part. + +We were riding our machines through this wood on the Monday afternoon in +the company of many other cyclists, for it is a favourite resort with the +Hanoverians on a sunny afternoon, and its shady pathways are then filled +with happy, thoughtless folk. Among them rode a young and beautiful girl +on a machine that was new. She was evidently a novice on the bicycle. +One felt instinctively that there would come a moment when she would +require help, and Harris, with his accustomed chivalry, suggested we +should keep near her. Harris, as he occasionally explains to George and +to myself, has daughters of his own, or, to speak more correctly, a +daughter, who as the years progress will no doubt cease practising +catherine wheels in the front garden, and will grow up into a beautiful +and respectable young lady. This naturally gives Harris an interest in +all beautiful girls up to the age of thirty-five or thereabouts; they +remind him, so he says, of home. + +We had ridden for about two miles, when we noticed, a little ahead of us +in a space where five ways met, a man with a hose, watering the roads. +The pipe, supported at each joint by a pair of tiny wheels, writhed after +him as he moved, suggesting a gigantic-worm, from whose open neck, as the +man, gripping it firmly in both hands, pointing it now this way, and now +that, now elevating it, now depressing it, poured a strong stream of +water at the rate of about a gallon a second. + +"What a much better method than ours," observed Harris, enthusiastically. +Harris is inclined to be chronically severe on all British institutions. +"How much simpler, quicker, and more economical! You see, one man by +this method can in five minutes water a stretch of road that would take +us with our clumsy lumbering cart half an hour to cover." + +George, who was riding behind me on the tandem, said, "Yes, and it is +also a method by which with a little carelessness a man could cover a +good many people in a good deal less time than they could get out of the +way." + +George, the opposite to Harris, is British to the core. I remember +George quite patriotically indignant with Harris once for suggesting the +introduction of the guillotine into England. + +"It is so much neater," said Harris. + +"I don't care if it is," said George; "I'm an Englishman; hanging is good +enough for me." + +"Our water-cart may have its disadvantages," continued George, "but it +can only make you uncomfortable about the legs, and you can avoid it. +This is the sort of machine with which a man can follow you round the +corner and upstairs." + +"It fascinates me to watch them," said Harris. "They are so skilful. I +have seen a man from the corner of a crowded square in Strassburg cover +every inch of ground, and not so much as wet an apron string. It is +marvellous how they judge their distance. They will send the water up to +your toes, and then bring it over your head so that it falls around your +heels. They can--" + +"Ease up a minute," said George. + +I said: "Why?" + +He said: "I am going to get off and watch the rest of this show from +behind a tree. There may be great performers in this line, as Harris +says; this particular artist appears to me to lack something. He has +just soused a dog, and now he's busy watering a sign-post. I am going to +wait till he has finished." + +"Nonsense," said Harris; "he won't wet you." + +"That is precisely what I am going to make sure of," answered George, +saying which he jumped off, and, taking up a position behind a remarkably +fine elm, pulled out and commenced filling his pipe. + +I did not care to take the tandem on by myself, so I stepped off and +joined him, leaving the machine against a tree. Harris shouted something +or other about our being a disgrace to the land that gave us birth, and +rode on. + +The next moment I heard a woman's cry of distress. Glancing round the +stem of the tree, I perceived that it proceeded from the young and +elegant lady before mentioned, whom, in our interest concerning the road- +waterer, we had forgotten. She was riding her machine steadily and +straightly through a drenching shower of water from the hose. She +appeared to be too paralysed either to get off or turn her wheel aside. +Every instant she was becoming wetter, while the man with the hose, who +was either drunk or blind, continued to pour water upon her with utter +indifference. A dozen voices yelled imprecations upon him, but he took +no heed whatever. + +Harris, his fatherly nature stirred to its depths, did at this point +what, under the circumstances, was quite the right and proper thing to +do. Had he acted throughout with the same coolness and judgment he then +displayed, he would have emerged from that incident the hero of the hour, +instead of, as happened, riding away followed by insult and threat. +Without a moment's hesitation he spurted at the man, sprang to the +ground, and, seizing the hose by the nozzle, attempted to wrest it away. + +What he ought to have done, what any man retaining his common sense would +have done the moment he got his hands upon the thing, was to turn off the +tap. Then he might have played foot-ball with the man, or battledore and +shuttlecock as he pleased; and the twenty or thirty people who had rushed +forward to assist would have only applauded. His idea, however, as he +explained to us afterwards, was to take away the hose from the man, and, +for punishment, turn it upon the fool himself. The waterman's idea +appeared to be the same, namely, to retain the hose as a weapon with +which to soak Harris. Of course, the result was that, between them, they +soused every dead and living thing within fifty yards, except themselves. +One furious man, too drenched to care what more happened to him, leapt +into the arena and also took a hand. The three among them proceeded to +sweep the compass with that hose. They pointed it to heaven, and the +water descended upon the people in the form of an equinoctial storm. They +pointed it downwards, and sent the water in rushing streams that took +people off their feet, or caught them about the waist line, and doubled +them up. + +Not one of them would loosen his grip upon the hose, not one of them +thought to turn the water off. You might have concluded they were +struggling with some primeval force of nature. In forty-five seconds, so +George said, who was timing it, they had swept that circus bare of every +living thing except one dog, who, dripping like a water nymph, rolled +over by the force of water, now on this side, now on that, still +gallantly staggered again and again to its feet to bark defiance at what +it evidently regarded as the powers of hell let loose. + +Men and women left their machines upon the ground, and flew into the +woods. From behind every tree of importance peeped out wet, angry heads. + +At last, there arrived upon the scene one man of sense. Braving all +things, he crept to the hydrant, where still stood the iron key, and +screwed it down. And then from forty trees began to creep more or less +soaked human beings, each one with something to say. + +At first I fell to wondering whether a stretcher or a clothes basket +would be the more useful for the conveyance of Harris's remains back to +the hotel. I consider that George's promptness on that occasion saved +Harris's life. Being dry, and therefore able to run quicker, he was +there before the crowd. Harris was for explaining things, but George cut +him short. + +"You get on that," said George, handing him his bicycle, "and go. They +don't know we belong to you, and you may trust us implicitly not to +reveal the secret. We'll hang about behind, and get in their way. Ride +zig-zag in case they shoot." + +I wish this book to be a strict record of fact, unmarred by exaggeration, +and therefore I have shown my description of this incident to Harris, +lest anything beyond bald narrative may have crept into it. Harris +maintains it is exaggerated, but admits that one or two people may have +been "sprinkled." I have offered to turn a street hose on him at a +distance of five-and-twenty yards, and take his opinion afterwards, as to +whether "sprinkled" is the adequate term, but he has declined the test. +Again, he insists there could not have been more than half a dozen +people, at the outside, involved in the catastrophe, that forty is a +ridiculous misstatement. I have offered to return with him to Hanover +and make strict inquiry into the matter, and this offer he has likewise +declined. Under these circumstances, I maintain that mine is a true and +restrained narrative of an event that is, by a certain number of +Hanoverians, remembered with bitterness unto this very day. + +We left Hanover that same evening, and arrived at Berlin in time for +supper and an evening stroll. Berlin is a disappointing town; its centre +over-crowded, its outlying parts lifeless; its one famous street, Unter +den Linden, an attempt to combine Oxford Street with the Champs Elysee, +singularly unimposing, being much too wide for its size; its theatres +dainty and charming, where acting is considered of more importance than +scenery or dress, where long runs are unknown, successful pieces being +played again and again, but never consecutively, so that for a week +running you may go to the same Berlin theatre, and see a fresh play every +night; its opera house unworthy of it; its two music halls, with an +unnecessary suggestion of vulgarity and commonness about them, +ill-arranged and much too large for comfort. In the Berlin cafes and +restaurants, the busy time is from midnight on till three. Yet most of +the people who frequent them are up again at seven. Either the Berliner +has solved the great problem of modern life, how to do without sleep, or, +with Carlyle, he must be looking forward to eternity. + +Personally, I know of no other town where such late hours are the vogue, +except St. Petersburg. But your St. Petersburger does not get up early +in the morning. At St. Petersburg, the music halls, which it is the +fashionable thing to attend _after_ the theatre--a drive to them taking +half an hour in a swift sleigh--do not practically begin till twelve. +Through the Neva at four o'clock in the morning you have to literally +push your way; and the favourite trains for travellers are those starting +about five o'clock in the morning. These trains save the Russian the +trouble of getting up early. He wishes his friends "Good-night," and +drives down to the station comfortably after supper, without putting the +house to any inconvenience. + +Potsdam, the Versailles to Berlin, is a beautiful little town, situate +among lakes and woods. Here in the shady ways of its quiet, +far-stretching park of Sans Souci, it is easy to imagine lean, snuffy +Frederick "bummeling" with shrill Voltaire. + +Acting on my advice, George and Harris consented not to stay long in +Berlin; but to push on to Dresden. Most that Berlin has to show can be +seen better elsewhere, and we decided to be content with a drive through +the town. The hotel porter introduced us to a droschke driver, under +whose guidance, so he assured us, we should see everything worth seeing +in the shortest possible time. The man himself, who called for us at +nine o'clock in the morning, was all that could be desired. He was +bright, intelligent, and well-informed; his German was easy to +understand, and he knew a little English with which to eke it out on +occasion. With the man himself there was no fault to be found, but his +horse was the most unsympathetic brute I have ever sat behind. + +He took a dislike to us the moment he saw us. I was the first to come +out of the hotel. He turned his head, and looked me up and down with a +cold, glassy eye; and then he looked across at another horse, a friend of +his that was standing facing him. I knew what he said. He had an +expressive head, and he made no attempt to disguise his thought. + +He said: + +"Funny things one does come across in the summer time, don't one?" + +George followed me out the next moment, and stood behind me. The horse +again turned his head and looked. I have never known a horse that could +twist himself as this horse did. I have seen a camelopard do tricks +with his neck that compelled one's attention, but this animal was more +like the thing one dreams of after a dusty days at Ascot, followed by +a dinner with six old chums. If I had seen his eyes looking at me from +between his own hind legs, I doubt if I should have been surprised. He +seemed more amused with George if anything, than with myself. He turned +to his friend again. + +"Extraordinary, isn't it?" he remarked; "I suppose there must be some +place where they grow them"; and then he commenced licking flies off his +own left shoulder. I began to wonder whether he had lost his mother when +young, and had been brought up by a cat. + +George and I climbed in, and sat waiting for Harris. He came a moment +later. Myself, I thought he looked rather neat. He wore a white flannel +knickerbocker suit, which he had had made specially for bicycling in hot +weather; his hat may have been a trifle out of the common, but it did +keep the sun off. + +The horse gave one look at him, said "Gott in Himmel!" as plainly as ever +horse spoke, and started off down Friedrich Strasse at a brisk walk, +leaving Harris and the driver standing on the pavement. His owner called +to him to stop, but he took no notice. They ran after us, and overtook +us at the corner of the Dorotheen Strasse. I could not catch what the +man said to the horse, he spoke quickly and excitedly; but I gathered a +few phrases, such as: + +"Got to earn my living somehow, haven't I? Who asked for your opinion? +Aye, little you care so long as you can guzzle." + +The horse cut the conversation short by turning up the Dorotheen Strasse +on his own account. I think what he said was: + +"Come on then; don't talk so much. Let's get the job over, and, where +possible, let's keep to the back streets." + +Opposite the Brandenburger Thor our driver hitched the reins to the whip, +climbed down, and came round to explain things to us. He pointed out the +Thiergarten, and then descanted to us of the Reichstag House. He +informed us of its exact height, length, and breadth, after the manner of +guides. Then he turned his attention to the Gate. He said it was +constructed of sandstone, in imitation of the "Properleer" in Athens. + +At this point the horse, which had been occupying its leisure licking its +own legs, turned round its head. It did not say anything, it just +looked. + +The man began again nervously. This time he said it was an imitation of +the "Propeyedliar." + +Here the horse proceeded up the Linden, and nothing would persuade him +not to proceed up the Linden. His owner expostulated with him, but he +continued to trot on. From the way he hitched his shoulders as he moved, +I somehow felt he was saying: + +"They've seen the Gate, haven't they? Very well, that's enough. As for +the rest, you don't know what you are talking about, and they wouldn't +understand you if you did. You talk German." + +It was the same throughout the length of the Linden. The horse consented +to stand still sufficiently long to enable us to have a good look at each +sight, and to hear the name of it. All explanation and description he +cut short by the simple process of moving on. + +"What these fellows want," he seemed to say to himself, "is to go home +and tell people they have seen these things. If I am doing them an +injustice, if they are more intelligent than they look, they can get +better information than this old fool of mine is giving them from the +guide book. Who wants to know how high a steeple is? You don't remember +it the next five minutes when you are told, and if you do it is because +you have got nothing else in your head. He just tires me with his talk. +Why doesn't he hurry up, and let us all get home to lunch?" + +Upon reflection, I am not sure that wall-eyed old brute had not sense on +its side. Anyhow, I know there have been occasions, with a guide, when I +would have been glad of its interference. + +But one is apt to "sin one's mercies," as the Scotch say, and at the time +we cursed that horse instead of blessing it. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +George wonders--German love of order--"The Band of the Schwarzwald +Blackbirds will perform at seven"--The china dog--Its superiority over +all other dogs--The German and the solar system--A tidy country--The +mountain valley as it ought to be, according to the German idea--How the +waters come down in Germany--The scandal of Dresden--Harris gives an +entertainment--It is unappreciated--George and the aunt of him--George, a +cushion, and three damsels. + +At a point between Berlin and Dresden, George, who had, for the last +quarter of an hour or so, been looking very attentively out of the +window, said: + +"Why, in Germany, is it the custom to put the letter-box up a tree? Why +do they not fix it to the front door as we do? I should hate having to +climb up a tree to get my letters. Besides, it is not fair to the +postman. In addition to being most exhausting, the delivery of letters +must to a heavy man, on windy nights, be positively dangerous work. If +they will fix it to a tree, why not fix it lower down, why always among +the topmost branches? But, maybe, I am misjudging the country," he +continued, a new idea occurring to him. "Possibly the Germans, who are +in many matters ahead of us, have perfected a pigeon post. Even so, I +cannot help thinking they would have been wiser to train the birds, while +they were about it, to deliver the letters nearer the ground. Getting +your letters out of those boxes must be tricky work even to the average +middle-aged German." + +I followed his gaze out of window. I said: + +"Those are not letter-boxes, they are birds' nests. You must understand +this nation. The German loves birds, but he likes tidy birds. A bird +left to himself builds his nest just anywhere. It is not a pretty +object, according to the German notion of prettiness. There is not a bit +of paint on it anywhere, not a plaster image all round, not even a flag. +The nest finished, the bird proceeds to live outside it. He drops things +on the grass; twigs, ends of worms, all sorts of things. He is +indelicate. He makes love, quarrels with his wife, and feeds the +children quite in public. The German householder is shocked. He says to +the bird: + +"'For many things I like you. I like to look at you. I like to hear you +sing. But I don't like your ways. Take this little box, and put your +rubbish inside where I can't see it. Come out when you want to sing; but +let your domestic arrangements be confined to the interior. Keep to the +box, and don't make the garden untidy.'" + +In Germany one breathes in love of order with the air, in Germany the +babies beat time with their rattles, and the German bird has come to +prefer the box, and to regard with contempt the few uncivilised outcasts +who continue to build their nests in trees and hedges. In course of time +every German bird, one is confident, will have his proper place in a full +chorus. This promiscuous and desultory warbling of his must, one feels, +be irritating to the precise German mind; there is no method in it. The +music-loving German will organise him. Some stout bird with a specially +well-developed crop will be trained to conduct him, and, instead of +wasting himself in a wood at four o'clock in the morning, he will, at the +advertised time, sing in a beer garden, accompanied by a piano. Things +are drifting that way. + +Your German likes nature, but his idea of nature is a glorified Welsh +Harp. He takes great interest in his garden. He plants seven rose trees +on the north side and seven on the south, and if they do not grow up all +the same size and shape it worries him so that he cannot sleep of nights. +Every flower he ties to a stick. This interferes with his view of the +flower, but he has the satisfaction of knowing it is there, and that it +is behaving itself. The lake is lined with zinc, and once a week he +takes it up, carries it into the kitchen, and scours it. In the +geometrical centre of the grass plot, which is sometimes as large as a +tablecloth and is generally railed round, he places a china dog. The +Germans are very fond of dogs, but as a rule they prefer them of china. +The china dog never digs holes in the lawn to bury bones, and never +scatters a flower-bed to the winds with his hind legs. From the German +point of view, he is the ideal dog. He stops where you put him, and he +is never where you do not want him. You can have him perfect in all +points, according to the latest requirements of the Kennel Club; or you +can indulge your own fancy and have something unique. You are not, as +with other dogs, limited to breed. In china, you can have a blue dog or +a pink dog. For a little extra, you can have a double-headed dog. + +On a certain fixed date in the autumn the German stakes his flowers and +bushes to the earth, and covers them with Chinese matting; and on a +certain fixed date in the spring he uncovers them, and stands them up +again. If it happens to be an exceptionally fine autumn, or an +exceptionally late spring, so much the worse for the unfortunate +vegetable. No true German would allow his arrangements to be interfered +with by so unruly a thing as the solar system. Unable to regulate the +weather, he ignores it. + +Among trees, your German's favourite is the poplar. Other disorderly +nations may sing the charms of the rugged oak, the spreading chestnut, or +the waving elm. To the German all such, with their wilful, untidy ways, +are eyesores. The poplar grows where it is planted, and how it is +planted. It has no improper rugged ideas of its own. It does not want +to wave or to spread itself. It just grows straight and upright as a +German tree should grow; and so gradually the German is rooting out all +other trees, and replacing them with poplars. + +Your German likes the country, but he prefers it as the lady thought she +would the noble savage--more dressed. He likes his walk through the +wood--to a restaurant. But the pathway must not be too steep, it must +have a brick gutter running down one side of it to drain it, and every +twenty yards or so it must have its seat on which he can rest and mop his +brow; for your German would no more think of sitting on the grass than +would an English bishop dream of rolling down One Tree Hill. He likes +his view from the summit of the hill, but he likes to find there a stone +tablet telling him what to look at, find a table and bench at which he +can sit to partake of the frugal beer and "belegte Semmel" he has been +careful to bring with him. If, in addition, he can find a police notice +posted on a tree, forbidding him to do something or other, that gives him +an extra sense of comfort and security. + +Your German is not averse even to wild scenery, provided it be not too +wild. But if he consider it too savage, he sets to work to tame it. I +remember, in the neighbourhood of Dresden, discovering a picturesque and +narrow valley leading down towards the Elbe. The winding roadway ran +beside a mountain torrent, which for a mile or so fretted and foamed over +rocks and boulders between wood-covered banks. I followed it enchanted +until, turning a corner, I suddenly came across a gang of eighty or a +hundred workmen. They were busy tidying up that valley, and making that +stream respectable. All the stones that were impeding the course of the +water they were carefully picking out and carting away. The bank on +either side they were bricking up and cementing. The overhanging trees +and bushes, the tangled vines and creepers they were rooting up and +trimming down. A little further I came upon the finished work--the +mountain valley as it ought to be, according to German ideas. The water, +now a broad, sluggish stream, flowed over a level, gravelly bed, between +two walls crowned with stone coping. At every hundred yards it gently +descended down three shallow wooden platforms. For a space on either +side the ground had been cleared, and at regular intervals young poplars +planted. Each sapling was protected by a shield of wickerwork and bossed +by an iron rod. In the course of a couple of years it is the hope of the +local council to have "finished" that valley throughout its entire +length, and made it fit for a tidy-minded lover of German nature to walk +in. There will be a seat every fifty yards, a police notice every +hundred, and a restaurant every half-mile. + +They are doing the same from the Memel to the Rhine. They are just +tidying up the country. I remember well the Wehrthal. It was once the +most romantic ravine to be found in the Black Forest. The last time I +walked down it some hundreds of Italian workmen were encamped there hard +at work, training the wild little Wehr the way it should go, bricking the +banks for it here, blasting the rocks for it there, making cement steps +for it down which it can travel soberly and without fuss. + +For in Germany there is no nonsense talked about untrammelled nature. In +Germany nature has got to behave herself, and not set a bad example to +the children. A German poet, noticing waters coming down as Southey +describes, somewhat inexactly, the waters coming down at Lodore, would be +too shocked to stop and write alliterative verse about them. He would +hurry away, and at once report them to the police. Then their foaming +and their shrieking would be of short duration. + +"Now then, now then, what's all this about?" the voice of German +authority would say severely to the waters. "We can't have this sort of +thing, you know. Come down quietly, can't you? Where do you think you +are?" + +And the local German council would provide those waters with zinc pipes +and wooden troughs, and a corkscrew staircase, and show them how to come +down sensibly, in the German manner. + +It is a tidy land is Germany. + +We reached Dresden on the Wednesday evening, and stayed there over the +Sunday. + +Taking one consideration with another, Dresden, perhaps, is the most +attractive town in Germany; but it is a place to be lived in for a while +rather than visited. Its museums and galleries, its palaces and gardens, +its beautiful and historically rich environment, provide pleasure for a +winter, but bewilder for a week. It has not the gaiety of Paris or +Vienna, which quickly palls; its charms are more solidly German, and more +lasting. It is the Mecca of the musician. For five shillings, in +Dresden, you can purchase a stall at the opera house, together, +unfortunately, with a strong disinclination ever again to take the +trouble of sitting out a performance in any English, French, or American +opera house. + +The chief scandal of Dresden still centres round August the Strong, "the +Man of Sin," as Carlyle always called him, who is popularly reputed to +have cursed Europe with over a thousand children. Castles where he +imprisoned this discarded mistress or that--one of them, who persisted in +her claim to a better title, for forty years, it is said, poor lady! The +narrow rooms where she ate her heart out and died are still shown. +Chateaux, shameful for this deed of infamy or that, lie scattered round +the neighbourhood like bones about a battlefield; and most of your +guide's stories are such as the "young person" educated in Germany had +best not hear. His life-sized portrait hangs in the fine Zwinger, which +he built as an arena for his wild beast fights when the people grew tired +of them in the market-place; a beetle-browed, frankly animal man, but +with the culture and taste that so often wait upon animalism. Modern +Dresden undoubtedly owes much to him. + +But what the stranger in Dresden stares at most is, perhaps, its electric +trams. These huge vehicles flash through the streets at from ten to +twenty miles an hour, taking curves and corners after the manner of an +Irish car driver. Everybody travels by them, excepting only officers in +uniform, who must not. Ladies in evening dress, going to ball or opera, +porters with their baskets, sit side by side. They are all-important in +the streets, and everything and everybody makes haste to get out of their +way. If you do not get out of their way, and you still happen to be +alive when picked up, then on your recovery you are fined for having been +in their way. This teaches you to be wary of them. + +One afternoon Harris took a "bummel" by himself. In the evening, as we +sat listening to the band at the Belvedere, Harris said, _a propos_ of +nothing in particular, "These Germans have no sense of humour." + +"What makes you think that?" I asked. + +"Why, this afternoon," he answered, "I jumped on one of those electric +tramcars. I wanted to see the town, so I stood outside on the little +platform--what do you call it?" + +"The Stehplatz," I suggested. + +"That's it," said Harris. "Well, you know the way they shake you about, +and how you have to look out for the corners, and mind yourself when they +stop and when they start?" + +I nodded. + +"There were about half a dozen of us standing there," he continued, "and, +of course, I am not experienced. The thing started suddenly, and that +jerked me backwards. I fell against a stout gentleman, just behind me. +He could not have been standing very firmly himself, and he, in his turn, +fell back against a boy who was carrying a trumpet in a green baize case. +They never smiled, neither the man nor the boy with the trumpet; they +just stood there and looked sulky. I was going to say I was sorry, but +before I could get the words out the tram eased up, for some reason or +other, and that, of course, shot me forward again, and I butted into a +white-haired old chap, who looked to me like a professor. Well, _he_ +never smiled, never moved a muscle." + +"Maybe, he was thinking of something else," I suggested. + +"That could not have been the case with them all," replied Harris, "and +in the course of that journey, I must have fallen against every one of +them at least three times. You see," explained Harris, "they knew when +the corners were coming, and in which direction to brace themselves. I, +as a stranger, was naturally at a disadvantage. The way I rolled and +staggered about that platform, clutching wildly now at this man and now +at that, must have been really comic. I don't say it was high-class +humour, but it would have amused most people. Those Germans seemed to +see no fun in it whatever--just seemed anxious, that was all. There was +one man, a little man, who stood with his back against the brake; I fell +against him five times, I counted them. You would have expected the +fifth time would have dragged a laugh out of him, but it didn't; he +merely looked tired. They are a dull lot." + +George also had an adventure at Dresden. There was a shop near the +Altmarkt, in the window of which were exhibited some cushions for sale. +The proper business of the shop was handling of glass and china; the +cushions appeared to be in the nature of an experiment. They were very +beautiful cushions, hand-embroidered on satin. We often passed the shop, +and every time George paused and examined those cushions. He said he +thought his aunt would like one. + +George has been very attentive to this aunt of his during the journey. He +has written her quite a long letter every day, and from every town we +stop at he sends her off a present. To my mind, he is overdoing the +business, and more than once I have expostulated with him. His aunt will +be meeting other aunts, and talking to them; the whole class will become +disorganised and unruly. As a nephew, I object to the impossible +standard that George is setting up. But he will not listen. + +Therefore it was that on the Saturday he left us after lunch, saying he +would go round to that shop and get one of those cushions for his aunt. +He said he would not be long, and suggested our waiting for him. + +We waited for what seemed to me rather a long time. When he rejoined us +he was empty handed, and looked worried. We asked him where his cushion +was. He said he hadn't got a cushion, said he had changed his mind, said +he didn't think his aunt would care for a cushion. Evidently something +was amiss. We tried to get at the bottom of it, but he was not +communicative. Indeed, his answers after our twentieth question or +thereabouts became quite short. + +In the evening, however, when he and I happened to be alone, he broached +the subject himself. He said: + +"They are somewhat peculiar in some things, these Germans." + +I said: "What has happened?" + +"Well," he answered, "there was that cushion I wanted." + +"For your aunt," I remarked. + +"Why not?" he returned. He was huffy in a moment; I never knew a man so +touchy about an aunt. "Why shouldn't I send a cushion to my aunt?" + +"Don't get excited," I replied. "I am not objecting; I respect you for +it." + +He recovered his temper, and went on: + +"There were four in the window, if you remember, all very much alike, and +each one labelled in plain figures twenty marks. I don't pretend to +speak German fluently, but I can generally make myself understood with a +little effort, and gather the sense of what is said to me, provided they +don't gabble. I went into the shop. A young girl came up to me; she was +a pretty, quiet little soul, one might almost say, demure; not at all the +sort of girl from whom you would have expected such a thing. I was never +more surprised in all my life." + +"Surprised about what?" I said. + +George always assumes you know the end of the story while he is telling +you the beginning; it is an annoying method. + +"At what happened," replied George; "at what I am telling you. She +smiled and asked me what I wanted. I understood that all right; there +could have been no mistake about that. I put down a twenty mark piece on +the counter and said: + +"Please give me a cushion." + +"She stared at me as if I had asked for a feather bed. I thought, maybe, +she had not heard, so I repeated it louder. If I had chucked her under +the chin she could not have looked more surprised or indignant. + +"She said she thought I must be making a mistake. + +"I did not want to begin a long conversation and find myself stranded. I +said there was no mistake. I pointed to my twenty mark piece, and +repeated for the third time that I wanted a cushion, 'a twenty mark +cushion.' + +"Another girl came up, an elder girl; and the first girl repeated to her +what I had just said: she seemed quite excited about it. The second girl +did not believe her--did not think I looked the sort of man who would +want a cushion. To make sure, she put the question to me herself. + +"'Did you say you wanted a cushion?' she asked. + +"'I have said it three times,' I answered. 'I will say it again--I want +a cushion.' + +"She said: 'Then you can't have one.' + +"I was getting angry by this time. If I hadn't really wanted the thing I +should have walked out of the shop; but there the cushions were in the +window, evidently for sale. I didn't see _why_ I couldn't have one. + +"I said: 'I will have one!' It is a simple sentence. I said it with +determination. + +"A third girl came up at this point, the three representing, I fancy, the +whole force of the shop. She was a bright-eyed, saucy-looking little +wench, this last one. On any other occasion I might have been pleased to +see her; now, her coming only irritated me. I didn't see the need of +three girls for this business. + +"The first two girls started explaining the thing to the third girl, and +before they were half-way through the third girl began to giggle--she was +the sort of girl who would giggle at anything. That done, they fell to +chattering like Jenny Wrens, all three together; and between every half- +dozen words they looked across at me; and the more they looked at me the +more the third girl giggled; and before they had finished they were all +three giggling, the little idiots; you might have thought I was a clown, +giving a private performance. + +"When she was steady enough to move, the third girl came up to me; she +was still giggling. She said: + +"'If you get it, will you go?' + +"I did not quite understand her at first, and she repeated it. + +"'This cushion. When you've got it, will you go--away--at once?' + +"I was only too anxious to go. I told her so. But, I added I was not +going without it. I had made up my mind to have that cushion now if I +stopped in the shop all night for it. + +"She rejoined the other two girls. I thought they were going to get me +the cushion and have done with the business. Instead of that, the +strangest thing possible happened. The two other girls got behind the +first girl, all three still giggling, Heaven knows what about, and pushed +her towards me. They pushed her close up to me, and then, before I knew +what was happening, she put her hands on my shoulders, stood up on +tiptoe, and kissed me. After which, burying her face in her apron, she +ran off, followed by the second girl. The third girl opened the door for +me, and so evidently expected me to go, that in my confusion I went, +leaving my twenty marks behind me. I don't say I minded the kiss, though +I did not particularly want it, while I did want the cushion. I don't +like to go back to the shop. I cannot understand the thing at all." + +I said: "What did you ask for?" + +He said: "A cushion" + +I said: "That is what you wanted, I know. What I mean is, what was the +actual German word you said." + +He replied: "A kuss." + +I said: "You have nothing to complain of. It is somewhat confusing. A +'kuss' sounds as if it ought to be a cushion, but it is not; it is a +kiss, while a 'kissen' is a cushion. You muddled up the two words--people +have done it before. I don't know much about this sort of thing myself; +but you asked for a twenty mark kiss, and from your description of the +girl some people might consider the price reasonable. Anyhow, I should +not tell Harris. If I remember rightly, he also has an aunt." + +George agreed with me it would be better not. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Mr. and Miss Jones, of Manchester--The benefits of cocoa--A hint to the +Peace Society--The window as a mediaeval argument--The favourite +Christian recreation--The language of the guide--How to repair the +ravages of time--George tries a bottle--The fate of the German beer +drinker--Harris and I resolve to do a good action--The usual sort of +statue--Harris and his friends--A pepperless Paradise--Women and towns. + +We were on our way to Prague, and were waiting in the great hall of the +Dresden Station until such time as the powers-that-be should permit us on +to the platform. George, who had wandered to the bookstall, returned to +us with a wild look in his eyes. He said: + +"I've seen it." + +I said, "Seen what?" + +He was too excited to answer intelligently. He said: + +"It's here. It's coming this way, both of them. If you wait, you'll see +it for yourselves. I'm not joking; it's the real thing." + +As is usual about this period, some paragraphs, more or less serious, had +been appearing in the papers concerning the sea-serpent, and I thought +for the moment he must be referring to this. A moment's reflection, +however, told me that here, in the middle of Europe, three hundred miles +from the coast, such a thing was impossible. Before I could question him +further, he seized me by the arm. + +"Look!" he said; "now am I exaggerating?" + +I turned my head and saw what, I suppose, few living Englishmen have ever +seen before--the travelling Britisher according to the Continental idea, +accompanied by his daughter. They were coming towards us in the flesh +and blood, unless we were dreaming, alive and concrete--the English +"Milor" and the English "Mees," as for generations they have been +portrayed in the Continental comic press and upon the Continental stage. +They were perfect in every detail. The man was tall and thin, with sandy +hair, a huge nose, and long Dundreary whiskers. Over a pepper-and-salt +suit he wore a light overcoat, reaching almost to his heels. His white +helmet was ornamented with a green veil; a pair of opera-glasses hung at +his side, and in his lavender-gloved hand he carried an alpenstock a +little taller than himself. His daughter was long and angular. Her +dress I cannot describe: my grandfather, poor gentleman, might have been +able to do so; it would have been more familiar to him. I can only say +that it appeared to me unnecessarily short, exhibiting a pair of +ankles--if I may be permitted to refer to such points--that, from an +artistic point of view, called rather for concealment. Her hat made me +think of Mrs. Hemans; but why I cannot explain. She wore side-spring +boots--"prunella," I believe, used to be the trade name--mittens, and +pince-nez. She also carried an alpenstock (there is not a mountain +within a hundred miles of Dresden) and a black bag strapped to her waist. +Her teeth stuck out like a rabbit's, and her figure was that of a bolster +on stilts. + +Harris rushed for his camera, and of course could not find it; he never +can when he wants it. Whenever we see Harris scuttling up and down like +a lost dog, shouting, "Where's my camera? What the dickens have I done +with my camera? Don't either of you remember where I put my +camera?"--then we know that for the first time that day he has come +across something worth photographing. Later on, he remembered it was in +his bag; that is where it would be on an occasion like this. + +They were not content with appearance; they acted the thing to the +letter. They walked gaping round them at every step. The gentleman had +an open Baedeker in his hand, and the lady carried a phrase book. They +talked French that nobody could understand, and German that they could +not translate themselves! The man poked at officials with his alpenstock +to attract their attention, and the lady, her eye catching sight of an +advertisement of somebody's cocoa, said "Shocking!" and turned the other +way. + +Really, there was some excuse for her. One notices, even in England, the +home of the proprieties, that the lady who drinks cocoa appears, +according to the poster, to require very little else in this world; a +yard or so of art muslin at the most. On the Continent she dispenses, so +far as one can judge, with every other necessity of life. Not only is +cocoa food and drink to her, it should be clothes also, according to the +idea of the cocoa manufacturer. But this by the way. + +Of course, they immediately became the centre of attraction. By being +able to render them some slight assistance, I gained the advantage of +five minutes' conversation with them. They were very affable. The +gentleman told me his name was Jones, and that he came from Manchester, +but he did not seem to know what part of Manchester, or where Manchester +was. I asked him where he was going to, but he evidently did not know. +He said it depended. I asked him if he did not find an alpenstock a +clumsy thing to walk about with through a crowded town; he admitted that +occasionally it did get in the way. I asked him if he did not find a +veil interfere with his view of things; he explained that you only wore +it when the flies became troublesome. I enquired of the lady if she did +not find the wind blow cold; she said she had noticed it, especially at +the corners. I did not ask these questions one after another as I have +here put them down; I mixed them up with general conversation, and we +parted on good terms. + +I have pondered much upon the apparition, and have come to a definite +opinion. A man I met later at Frankfort, and to whom I described the +pair, said he had seen them himself in Paris, three weeks after the +termination of the Fashoda incident; while a traveller for some English +steel works whom we met in Strassburg remembered having seen them in +Berlin during the excitement caused by the Transvaal question. My +conclusion is that they were actors out of work, hired to do this thing +in the interest of international peace. The French Foreign Office, +wishful to allay the anger of the Parisian mob clamouring for war with +England, secured this admirable couple and sent them round the town. You +cannot be amused at a thing, and at the same time want to kill it. The +French nation saw the English citizen and citizeness--no caricature, but +the living reality--and their indignation exploded in laughter. The +success of the stratagem prompted them later on to offer their services +to the German Government, with the beneficial results that we all know. + +Our own Government might learn the lesson. It might be as well to keep +near Downing Street a few small, fat Frenchmen, to be sent round the +country when occasion called for it, shrugging their shoulders and eating +frog sandwiches; or a file of untidy, lank-haired Germans might be +retained, to walk about, smoking long pipes, saying "So." The public +would laugh and exclaim, "War with such? It would be too absurd." +Failing the Government, I recommend the scheme to the Peace Society. + +Our visit to Prague we were compelled to lengthen somewhat. Prague is +one of the most interesting towns in Europe. Its stones are saturated +with history and romance; its every suburb must have been a battlefield. +It is the town that conceived the Reformation and hatched the Thirty +Years' War. But half Prague's troubles, one imagines, might have been +saved to it, had it possessed windows less large and temptingly +convenient. The first of these mighty catastrophes it set rolling by +throwing the seven Catholic councillors from the windows of its Rathhaus +on to the pikes of the Hussites below. Later, it gave the signal for the +second by again throwing the Imperial councillors from the windows of the +old Burg in the Hradschin--Prague's second "Fenstersturz." Since, other +fateful questions have been decide in Prague, one assumes from their +having been concluded without violence that such must have been discussed +in cellars. The window, as an argument, one feels, would always have +proved too strong a temptation to any true-born Praguer. + +In the Teynkirche stands the worm-eaten pulpit from which preached John +Huss. One may hear from the selfsame desk to-day the voice of a Papist +priest, while in far-off Constance a rude block of stone, half ivy +hidden, marks the spot where Huss and Jerome died burning at the stake. +History is fond of her little ironies. In this same Teynkirche lies +buried Tycho Brahe, the astronomer, who made the common mistake of +thinking the earth, with its eleven hundred creeds and one humanity, the +centre of the universe; but who otherwise observed the stars clearly. + +Through Prague's dirty, palace-bordered alleys must have pressed often in +hot haste blind Ziska and open-minded Wallenstein--they have dubbed him +"The Hero" in Prague; and the town is honestly proud of having owned him +for citizen. In his gloomy palace in the Waldstein-Platz they show as a +sacred spot the cabinet where he prayed, and seem to have persuaded +themselves he really had a soul. Its steep, winding ways must have been +choked a dozen times, now by Sigismund's flying legions, followed by +fierce-killing Tarborites, and now by pale Protestants pursued by the +victorious Catholics of Maximilian. Now Saxons, now Bavarians, and now +French; now the saints of Gustavus Adolphus, and now the steel fighting +machines of Frederick the Great, have thundered at its gates and fought +upon its bridges. + +The Jews have always been an important feature of Prague. Occasionally +they have assisted the Christians in their favourite occupation of +slaughtering one another, and the great flag suspended from the vaulting +of the Altneuschule testifies to the courage with which they helped +Catholic Ferdinand to resist the Protestant Swedes. The Prague Ghetto +was one of the first to be established in Europe, and in the tiny +synagogue, still standing, the Jew of Prague has worshipped for eight +hundred years, his women folk devoutly listening, without, at the ear +holes provided for them in the massive walls. A Jewish cemetery +adjacent, "Bethchajim, or the House of Life," seems as though it were +bursting with its dead. Within its narrow acre it was the law of +centuries that here or nowhere must the bones of Israel rest. So the +worn and broken tombstones lie piled in close confusion, as though tossed +and tumbled by the struggling host beneath. + +The Ghetto walls have long been levelled, but the living Jews of Prague +still cling to their foetid lanes, though these are being rapidly +replaced by fine new streets that promise to eventually transform this +quarter into the handsomest part of the town. + +At Dresden they advised us not to talk German in Prague. For years +racial animosity between the German minority and the Czech majority has +raged throughout Bohemia, and to be mistaken for a German in certain +streets of Prague is inconvenient to a man whose staying powers in a race +are not what once they were. However, we did talk German in certain +streets in Prague; it was a case of talking German or nothing. The Czech +dialect is said to be of great antiquity and of highly scientific +cultivation. Its alphabet contains forty-two letters, suggestive to a +stranger of Chinese. It is not a language to be picked up in a hurry. We +decided that on the whole there would be less risk to our constitution in +keeping to German, and as a matter of fact no harm came to us. The +explanation I can only surmise. The Praguer is an exceedingly acute +person; some subtle falsity of accent, some slight grammatical +inaccuracy, may have crept into our German, revealing to him the fact +that, in spite of all appearances to the contrary, we were no true-born +Deutscher. I do not assert this; I put it forward as a possibility. + +To avoid unnecessary danger, however, we did our sight-seeing with the +aid of a guide. No guide I have ever come across is perfect. This one +had two distinct failings. His English was decidedly weak. Indeed, it +was not English at all. I do not know what you would call it. It was +not altogether his fault; he had learnt English from a Scotch lady. I +understand Scotch fairly well--to keep abreast of modern English +literature this is necessary,--but to understand broad Scotch talked with +a Sclavonic accent, occasionally relieved by German modifications, taxes +the intelligence. For the first hour it was difficult to rid one's self +of the conviction that the man was choking. Every moment we expected him +to die on our hands. In the course of the morning we grew accustomed to +him, and rid ourselves of the instinct to throw him on his back every +time he opened his mouth, and tear his clothes from him. Later, we came +to understand a part of what he said, and this led to the discovery of +his second failing. + +It would seem he had lately invented a hair-restorer, which he had +persuaded a local chemist to take up and advertise. Half his time he had +been pointing out to us, not the beauties of Prague, but the benefits +likely to accrue to the human race from the use of this concoction; and +the conventional agreement with which, under the impression he was waxing +eloquent concerning views and architecture, we had met his enthusiasm he +had attributed to sympathetic interest in this wretched wash of his. + +The result was that now there was no keeping him away from the subject. +Ruined palaces and crumbling churches he dismissed with curt reference as +mere frivolities, encouraging a morbid taste for the decadent. His duty, +as he saw it, was not to lead us to dwell upon the ravages of time, but +rather to direct our attention to the means of repairing them. What had +we to do with broken-headed heroes, or bald-headed saints? Our interest +should be surely in the living world; in the maidens with their flowing +tresses, or the flowing tresses they might have, by judicious use of +"Kophkeo," in the young men with their fierce moustaches--as pictured on +the label. + +Unconsciously, in his own mind, he had divided the world into two +sections. The Past ("Before Use"), a sickly, disagreeable-looking, +uninteresting world. The Future ("After Use") a fat, jolly, God-bless- +everybody sort of world; and this unfitted him as a guide to scenes of +mediaeval history. + +He sent us each a bottle of the stuff to our hotel. It appeared that in +the early part of our converse with him we had, unwittingly, clamoured +for it. Personally, I can neither praise it nor condemn it. A long +series of disappointments has disheartened me; added to which a permanent +atmosphere of paraffin, however faint, is apt to cause remark, especially +in the case of a married man. Now, I never try even the sample. + +I gave my bottle to George. He asked for it to send to a man he knew in +Leeds. I learnt later that Harris had given him his bottle also, to send +to the same man. + +A suggestion of onions has clung to this tour since we left Prague. +George has noticed it himself. He attributes it to the prevalence of +garlic in European cooking. + +It was in Prague that Harris and I did a kind and friendly thing to +George. We had noticed for some time past that George was getting too +fond of Pilsener beer. This German beer is an insidious drink, +especially in hot weather; but it does not do to imbibe too freely of it. +It does not get into your head, but after a time it spoils your waist. I +always say to myself on entering Germany: + +"Now, I will drink no German beer. The white wine of the country, with a +little soda-water; perhaps occasionally a glass of Ems or potash. But +beer, never--or, at all events, hardly ever." + +It is a good and useful resolution, which I recommend to all travellers. +I only wish I could keep to it myself. George, although I urged him, +refused to bind himself by any such hard and fast limit. He said that in +moderation German beer was good. + +"One glass in the morning," said George, "one in the evening, or even +two. That will do no harm to anyone." + +Maybe he was right. It was his half-dozen glasses that troubled Harris +and myself. + +"We ought to do something to stop it," said Harris; "it is becoming +serious." + +"It's hereditary, so he has explained to me," I answered. "It seems his +family have always been thirsty." + +"There is Apollinaris water," replied Harris, "which, I believe, with a +little lemon squeezed into it, is practically harmless. What I am +thinking about is his figure. He will lose all his natural elegance." + +We talked the matter over, and, Providence aiding us, we fixed upon a +plan. For the ornamentation of the town a new statue had just been cast. +I forget of whom it was a statue. I only remember that in the essentials +it was the usual sort of street statue, representing the usual sort of +gentleman, with the usual stiff neck, riding the usual sort of horse--the +horse that always walks on its hind legs, keeping its front paws for +beating time. But in detail it possessed individuality. Instead of the +usual sword or baton, the man was holding, stretched out in his hand, his +own plumed hat; and the horse, instead of the usual waterfall for a tail, +possessed a somewhat attenuated appendage that somehow appeared out of +keeping with his ostentatious behaviour. One felt that a horse with a +tail like that would not have pranced so much. + +It stood in a small square not far from the further end of the +Karlsbrucke, but it stood there only temporarily. Before deciding +finally where to fix it, the town authorities had resolved, very +sensibly, to judge by practical test where it would look best. +Accordingly, they had made three rough copies of the statue--mere wooden +profiles, things that would not bear looking at closely, but which, +viewed from a little distance, produced all the effect that was +necessary. One of these they had set up at the approach to the Franz- +Josefsbrucke, a second stood in the open space behind the theatre, and +the third in the centre of the Wenzelsplatz. + +"If George is not in the secret of this thing," said Harris--we were +walking by ourselves for an hour, he having remained behind in the hotel +to write a letter to his aunt,--"if he has not observed these statues, +then by their aid we will make a better and a thinner man of him, and +that this very evening." + +So during dinner we sounded him, judiciously; and finding him ignorant of +the matter, we took him out, and led him by side-streets to the place +where stood the real statue. George was for looking at it and passing +on, as is his way with statues, but we insisted on his pulling up and +viewing the thing conscientiously. We walked him round that statue four +times, and showed it to him from every possible point of view. I think, +on the whole, we rather bored him with the thing, but our object was to +impress it upon him. We told him the history of the man who rode upon +the horse, the name of the artist who had made the statue, how much it +weighed, how much it measured. We worked that statue into his system. By +the time we had done with him he knew more about that statue, for the +time being, than he knew about anything else. We soaked him in that +statue, and only let him go at last on the condition that he would come +again with us in the morning, when we could all see it better, and for +such purpose we saw to it that he made a note in his pocket-book of the +place where the statue stood. + +Then we accompanied him to his favourite beer hall, and sat beside him, +telling him anecdotes of men who, unaccustomed to German beer, and +drinking too much of it, had gone mad and developed homicidal mania; of +men who had died young through drinking German beer; of lovers that +German beer had been the means of parting for ever from beautiful girls. + +At ten o'clock we started to walk back to the hotel. It was a stormy- +looking night, with heavy clouds drifting over a light moon. Harris +said: + +"We won't go back the same way we came; we'll walk back by the river. It +is lovely in the moonlight." + +Harris told a sad history, as we walked, about a man he once knew, who is +now in a home for harmless imbeciles. He said he recalled the story +because it was on just such another night as this that he was walking +with that man the very last time he ever saw the poor fellow. They were +strolling down the Thames Embankment, Harris said, and the man frightened +him then by persisting that he saw the statue of the Duke of Wellington +at the corner of Westminster Bridge, when, as everybody knows, it stands +in Piccadilly. + +It was at this exact instant that we came in sight of the first of these +wooden copies. It occupied the centre of a small, railed-in square a +little above us on the opposite side of the way. George suddenly stood +still and leant against the wall of the quay. + +"What's the matter?" I said; "feeling giddy?" + +He said: "I do, a little. Let's rest here a moment." + +He stood there with his eyes glued to the thing. + +He said, speaking huskily: + +"Talking of statues, what always strikes me is how very much one statue +is like another statue." + +Harris said: "I cannot agree with you there--pictures, if you like. Some +pictures are very like other pictures, but with a statue there is always +something distinctive. Take that statue we saw early in the evening," +continued Harris, "before we went into the concert hall. It represented +a man sitting on a horse. In Prague you will see other statues of men on +horses, but nothing at all like that one." + +"Yes they are," said George; "they are all alike. It's always the same +horse, and it's always the same man. They are all exactly alike. It's +idiotic nonsense to say they are not." + +He appeared to be angry with Harris. + +"What makes you think so?" I asked. + +"What makes me think so?" retorted George, now turning upon me. "Why, +look at that damned thing over there!" + +I said: "What damned thing?" + +"Why, that thing," said George; "look at it! There is the same horse +with half a tail, standing on its hind legs; the same man without his +hat; the same--" + +Harris said: "You are talking now about the statue we saw in the +Ringplatz." + +"No, I'm not," replied George; "I'm talking about the statue over there." + +"What statue?" said Harris. + +George looked at Harris; but Harris is a man who might, with care, have +been a fair amateur actor. His face merely expressed friendly sorrow, +mingled with alarm. Next, George turned his gaze on me. I endeavoured, +so far as lay with me, to copy Harris's expression, adding to it on my +own account a touch of reproof. + +"Will you have a cab?" I said as kindly as I could to George. "I'll run +and get one." + +"What the devil do I want with a cab?" he answered, ungraciously. "Can't +you fellows understand a joke? It's like being out with a couple of +confounded old women," saying which, he started off across the bridge, +leaving us to follow. + +"I am so glad that was only a joke of yours," said Harris, on our +overtaking him. "I knew a case of softening of the brain that began--" + +"Oh, you're a silly ass!" said George, cutting him short; "you know +everything." + +He was really most unpleasant in his manner. + +We took him round by the riverside of the theatre. We told him it was +the shortest way, and, as a matter of fact, it was. In the open space +behind the theatre stood the second of these wooden apparitions. George +looked at it, and again stood still. + +"What's the matter?" said Harris, kindly. "You are not ill, are you?" + +"I don't believe this is the shortest way," said George. + +"I assure you it is," persisted Harris. + +"Well, I'm going the other," said George; and he turned and went, we, as +before, following him. + +Along the Ferdinand Strasse Harris and I talked about private lunatic +asylums, which, Harris said, were not well managed in England. He said a +friend of his, a patient in a lunatic asylum-- + +George said, interrupting: "You appear to have a large number of friends +in lunatic asylums." + +He said it in a most insulting tone, as though to imply that that is +where one would look for the majority of Harris's friends. But Harris +did not get angry; he merely replied, quite mildly: + +"Well, it really is extraordinary, when one comes to think of it, how +many of them have gone that way sooner or later. I get quite nervous +sometimes, now." + +At the corner of the Wenzelsplatz, Harris, who was a few steps ahead of +us, paused. + +"It's a fine street, isn't it?" he said, sticking his hands in his +pockets, and gazing up at it admiringly. + +George and I followed suit. Two hundred yards away from us, in its very +centre, was the third of these ghostly statues. I think it was the best +of the three--the most like, the most deceptive. It stood boldly +outlined against the wild sky: the horse on its hind legs, with its +curiously attenuated tail; the man bareheaded, pointing with his plumed +hat to the now entirely visible moon. + +"I think, if you don't mind," said George--he spoke with almost a +pathetic ring in his voice, his aggressiveness had completely fallen from +him,--"that I will have that cab, if there's one handy." + +"I thought you were looking queer," said Harris, kindly. "It's your +head, isn't it?" + +"Perhaps it is," answered George. + +"I have noticed it coming on," said Harris; "but I didn't like to say +anything to you. You fancy you see things, don't you?" + +"No, no; it isn't that," replied George, rather quickly. "I don't know +what it is." + +"I do," said Harris, solemnly, "and I'll tell you. It's this German beer +that you are drinking. I have known a case where a man--" + +"Don't tell me about him just now," said George. "I dare say it's true, +but somehow I don't feel I want to hear about him." + +"You are not used to it," said Harris. + +"I shall give it up from to-night," said George. "I think you must be +right; it doesn't seem to agree with me." + +We took him home, and saw him to bed. He was very gentle and quite +grateful. + +One evening later on, after a long day's ride, followed by a most +satisfactory dinner, we started him on a big cigar, and, removing things +from his reach, told him of this stratagem that for his good we had +planned. + +"How many copies of that statue did you say we saw?" asked George, after +we had finished. + +"Three," replied Harris. + +"Only three?" said George. "Are you sure?" + +"Positive," replied Harris. "Why?" + +"Oh, nothing!" answered George. + +But I don't think he quite believed Harris. + +From Prague we travelled to Nuremberg, through Carlsbad. Good Germans, +when they die, go, they say, to Carlsbad, as good Americans to Paris. +This I doubt, seeing that it is a small place with no convenience for a +crowd. In Carlsbad, you rise at five, the fashionable hour for +promenade, when the band plays under the Colonnade, and the Sprudel is +filled with a packed throng over a mile long, being from six to eight in +the morning. Here you may hear more languages spoken than the Tower of +Babel could have echoed. Polish Jews and Russian princes, Chinese +mandarins and Turkish pashas, Norwegians looking as if they had stepped +out of Ibsen's plays, women from the Boulevards, Spanish grandees and +English countesses, mountaineers from Montenegro and millionaires from +Chicago, you will find every dozen yards. Every luxury in the world +Carlsbad provides for its visitors, with the one exception of pepper. +That you cannot get within five miles of the town for money; what you can +get there for love is not worth taking away. Pepper, to the liver +brigade that forms four-fifths of Carlsbad's customers, is poison; and, +prevention being better than cure, it is carefully kept out of the +neighbourhood. "Pepper parties" are formed in Carlsbad to journey to +some place without the boundary, and there indulge in pepper orgies. + +Nuremberg, if one expects a town of mediaeval appearance, disappoints. +Quaint corners, picturesque glimpses, there are in plenty; but everywhere +they are surrounded and intruded upon by the modern, and even what is +ancient is not nearly so ancient as one thought it was. After all, a +town, like a woman, is only as old as it looks; and Nuremberg is still a +comfortable-looking dame, its age somewhat difficult to conceive under +its fresh paint and stucco in the blaze of the gas and the electric +light. Still, looking closely, you may see its wrinkled walls and grey +towers. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Harris breaks the law--The helpful man: The dangers that beset him--George +sets forth upon a career of crime--Those to whom Germany would come as a +boon and a blessing--The English Sinner: His disappointments--The German +Sinner: His exceptional advantages--What you may not do with your bed--An +inexpensive vice--The German dog: His simple goodness--The misbehaviour +of the beetle--A people that go the way they ought to go--The German +small boy: His love of legality--How to go astray with a perambulator--The +German student: His chastened wilfulness. + +All three of us, by some means or another, managed, between Nuremberg and +the Black Forest, to get into trouble. + +Harris led off at Stuttgart by insulting an official. Stuttgart is a +charming town, clean and bright, a smaller Dresden. It has the +additional attraction of containing little that one need to go out of +one's way to see: a medium-sized picture gallery, a small museum of +antiquities, and half a palace, and you are through with the entire thing +and can enjoy yourself. Harris did not know it was an official he was +insulting. He took it for a fireman (it looked like a fireman), and he +called it a "dummer Esel." + +In German you are not permitted to call an official a "silly ass," but +undoubtedly this particular man was one. What had happened was this: +Harris in the Stadgarten, anxious to get out, and seeing a gate open +before him, had stepped over a wire into the street. Harris maintains he +never saw it, but undoubtedly there was hanging to the wire a notice, +"Durchgang Verboten!" The man, who was standing near the gate stopped +Harris, and pointed out to him this notice. Harris thanked him, and +passed on. The man came after him, and explained that treatment of the +matter in such off-hand way could not be allowed; what was necessary to +put the business right was that Harris should step back over the wire +into the garden. Harris pointed out to the man that the notice said +"going through forbidden," and that, therefore, by re-entering the garden +that way he would be infringing the law a second time. The man saw this +for himself, and suggested that to get over the difficulty Harris should +go back into the garden by the proper entrance, which was round the +corner, and afterwards immediately come out again by the same gate. Then +it was that Harris called the man a silly ass. That delayed us a day, +and cost Harris forty marks. + +I followed suit at Carlsruhe, by stealing a bicycle. I did not mean to +steal the bicycle; I was merely trying to be useful. The train was on +the point of starting when I noticed, as I thought, Harris's bicycle +still in the goods van. No one was about to help me. I jumped into the +van and hauled it out, only just in time. Wheeling it down the platform +in triumph, I came across Harris's bicycle, standing against a wall +behind some milk-cans. The bicycle I had secured was not Harris's, but +some other man's. + +It was an awkward situation. In England, I should have gone to the +stationmaster and explained my mistake. But in Germany they are not +content with your explaining a little matter of this sort to one man: +they take you round and get you to explain it to about half a dozen; and +if any one of the half dozen happens not to be handy, or not to have time +just then to listen to you, they have a habit of leaving you over for the +night to finish your explanation the next morning. I thought I would +just put the thing out of sight, and then, without making any fuss or +show, take a short walk. I found a wood shed, which seemed just the very +place, and was wheeling the bicycle into it when, unfortunately, a red- +hatted railway official, with the airs of a retired field-marshal, caught +sight of me and came up. He said: + +"What are you doing with that bicycle?" + +I said: "I am going to put it in this wood shed out of the way." I tried +to convey by my tone that I was performing a kind and thoughtful action, +for which the railway officials ought to thank me; but he was +unresponsive. + +"Is it your bicycle?" he said. + +"Well, not exactly," I replied. + +"Whose is it?" he asked, quite sharply. + +"I can't tell you," I answered. "I don't know whose bicycle it is." + +"Where did you get it from?" was his next question. There was a +suspiciousness about his tone that was almost insulting. + +"I got it," I answered, with as much calm dignity as at the moment I +could assume, "out of the train. The fact is," I continued, frankly, "I +have made a mistake." + +He did not allow me time to finish. He merely said he thought so too, +and blew a whistle. + +Recollection of the subsequent proceedings is not, so far as I am +concerned, amusing. By a miracle of good luck--they say Providence +watches over certain of us--the incident happened in Carlsruhe, where I +possess a German friend, an official of some importance. Upon what would +have been my fate had the station not been at Carlsruhe, or had my friend +been from home, I do not care to dwell; as it was I got off, as the +saying is, by the skin of my teeth. I should like to add that I left +Carlsruhe without a stain upon my character, but that would not be the +truth. My going scot free is regarded in police circles there to this +day as a grave miscarriage of justice. + +But all lesser sin sinks into insignificance beside the lawlessness of +George. The bicycle incident had thrown us all into confusion, with the +result that we lost George altogether. It transpired subsequently that +he was waiting for us outside the police court; but this at the time we +did not know. We thought, maybe, he had gone on to Baden by himself; and +anxious to get away from Carlsruhe, and not, perhaps, thinking out things +too clearly, we jumped into the next train that came up and proceeded +thither. When George, tired of waiting, returned to the station, he +found us gone and he found his luggage gone. Harris had his ticket; I +was acting as banker to the party, so that he had in his pocket only some +small change. Excusing himself upon these grounds, he thereupon +commenced deliberately a career of crime that, reading it later, as set +forth baldly in the official summons, made the hair of Harris and myself +almost to stand on end. + +German travelling, it may be explained, is somewhat complicated. You buy +a ticket at the station you start from for the place you want to go to. +You might think this would enable you to get there, but it does not. When +your train comes up, you attempt to swarm into it; but the guard +magnificently waves you away. Where are your credentials? You show him +your ticket. He explains to you that by itself that is of no service +whatever; you have only taken the first step towards travelling; you must +go back to the booking-office and get in addition what is called a +"schnellzug ticket." With this you return, thinking your troubles over. +You are allowed to get in, so far so good. But you must not sit down +anywhere, and you must not stand still, and you must not wander about. +You must take another ticket, this time what is called a "platz ticket," +which entitles you to a place for a certain distance. + +What a man could do who persisted in taking nothing but the one ticket, I +have often wondered. Would he be entitled to run behind the train on the +six-foot way? Or could he stick a label on himself and get into the +goods van? Again, what could be done with the man who, having taken his +schnellzug ticket, obstinately refused, or had not the money to take a +platz ticket: would they let him lie in the umbrella rack, or allow him +to hang himself out of the window? + +To return to George, he had just sufficient money to take a third-class +slow train ticket to Baden, and that was all. To avoid the +inquisitiveness of the guard, he waited till the train was moving, and +then jumped in. + +That was his first sin: + +(a) Entering a train in motion; + +(b) After being warned not to do so by an official. + +Second sin: + +(a) Travelling in train of superior class to that for which ticket was +held. + +(b) Refusing to pay difference when demanded by an official. (George +says he did not "refuse"; he simply told the man he had not got it.) + +Third sin: + +(a) Travelling in carriage of superior class to that for which ticket +was held. + +(b) Refusing to pay difference when demanded by an official. (Again +George disputes the accuracy of the report. He turned his pockets out, +and offered the man all he had, which was about eightpence in German +money. He offered to go into a third class, but there was no third +class. He offered to go into the goods van, but they would not hear of +it.) + +Fourth sin: + +(a) Occupying seat, and not paying for same. + +(b) Loitering about corridor. (As they would not let him sit down +without paying, and as he could not pay, it was difficult to see what +else he could do.) + +But explanations are held as no excuse in Germany; and his journey from +Carlsruhe to Baden was one of the most expensive perhaps on record. + +Reflecting upon the case and frequency with which one gets into trouble +here in Germany, one is led to the conclusion that this country would +come as a boon and a blessing to the average young Englishman. To the +medical student, to the eater of dinners at the Temple, to the subaltern +on leave, life in London is a wearisome proceeding. The healthy Briton +takes his pleasure lawlessly, or it is no pleasure to him. Nothing that +he may do affords to him any genuine satisfaction. To be in trouble of +some sort is his only idea of bliss. Now, England affords him small +opportunity in this respect; to get himself into a scrape requires a good +deal of persistence on the part of the young Englishman. + +I spoke on this subject one day with our senior churchwarden. It was the +morning of the 10th of November, and we were both of us glancing, +somewhat anxiously, through the police reports. The usual batch of young +men had been summoned for creating the usual disturbance the night before +at the Criterion. My friend the churchwarden has boys of his own, and a +nephew of mine, upon whom I am keeping a fatherly eye, is by a fond +mother supposed to be in London for the sole purpose of studying +engineering. No names we knew happened, by fortunate chance, to be in +the list of those detained in custody, and, relieved, we fell to +moralising upon the folly and depravity of youth. + +"It is very remarkable," said my friend the churchwarden, "how the +Criterion retains its position in this respect. It was just so when I +was young; the evening always wound up with a row at the Criterion." + +"So meaningless," I remarked. + +"So monotonous," he replied. "You have no idea," he continued, a dreamy +expression stealing over his furrowed face, "how unutterably tired one +can become of the walk from Piccadilly Circus to the Vine Street Police +Court. Yet, what else was there for us to do? Simply nothing. Sometimes +we would put out a street lamp, and a man would come round and light it +again. If one insulted a policeman, he simply took no notice. He did +not even know he was being insulted; or, if he did, he seemed not to +care. You could fight a Covent Garden porter, if you fancied yourself at +that sort of thing. Generally speaking, the porter got the best of it; +and when he did it cost you five shillings, and when he did not the price +was half a sovereign. I could never see much excitement in that +particular sport. I tried driving a hansom cab once. That has always +been regarded as the acme of modern Tom and Jerryism. I stole it late +one night from outside a public-house in Dean Street, and the first thing +that happened to me was that I was hailed in Golden Square by an old lady +surrounded by three children, two of them crying and the third one half +asleep. Before I could get away she had shot the brats into the cab, +taken my number, paid me, so she said, a shilling over the legal fare, +and directed me to an address a little beyond what she called North +Kensington. As a matter of fact, the place turned out to be the other +side of Willesden. The horse was tired, and the journey took us well +over two hours. It was the slowest lark I ever remember being concerned +in. I tried once or twice to persuade the children to let me take them +back to the old lady: but every time I opened the trap-door to speak to +them the youngest one, a boy, started screaming; and when I offered other +drivers to transfer the job to them, most of them replied in the words of +a song popular about that period: 'Oh, George, don't you think you're +going just a bit too far?' One man offered to take home to my wife any +last message I might be thinking of, while another promised to organise a +party to come and dig me out in the spring. When I mounted the dickey I +had imagined myself driving a peppery old colonel to some lonesome and +cabless region, half a dozen miles from where he wanted to go, and there +leaving him upon the kerbstone to swear. About that there might have +been good sport or there might not, according to circumstances and the +colonel. The idea of a trip to an outlying suburb in charge of a nursery +full of helpless infants had never occurred to me. No, London," +concluded my friend the churchwarden with a sigh, "affords but limited +opportunity to the lover of the illegal." + +Now, in Germany, on the other hand, trouble is to be had for the asking. +There are many things in Germany that you must not do that are quite easy +to do. To any young Englishman yearning to get himself into a scrape, +and finding himself hampered in his own country, I would advise a single +ticket to Germany; a return, lasting as it does only a month, might prove +a waste. + +In the Police Guide of the Fatherland he will find set forth a list of +the things the doing of which will bring to him interest and excitement. +In Germany you must not hang your bed out of window. He might begin with +that. By waving his bed out of window he could get into trouble before +he had his breakfast. At home he might hang himself out of window, and +nobody would mind much, provided he did not obstruct anybody's ancient +lights or break away and injure any passer underneath. + +In Germany you must not wear fancy dress in the streets. A Highlander of +my acquaintance who came to pass the winter in Dresden spent the first +few days of his residence there in arguing this question with the Saxon +Government. They asked him what he was doing in those clothes. He was +not an amiable man. He answered, he was wearing them. They asked him +why he was wearing them. He replied, to keep himself warm. They told +him frankly that they did not believe him, and sent him back to his +lodgings in a closed landau. The personal testimony of the English +Minister was necessary to assure the authorities that the Highland garb +was the customary dress of many respectable, law-abiding British +subjects. They accepted the statement, as diplomatically bound, but +retain their private opinion to this day. The English tourist they have +grown accustomed to; but a Leicestershire gentleman, invited to hunt with +some German officers, on appearing outside his hotel, was promptly +marched off, horse and all, to explain his frivolity at the police court. + +Another thing you must not do in the streets of German towns is to feed +horses, mules, or donkeys, whether your own or those belonging to other +people. If a passion seizes you to feed somebody else's horse, you must +make an appointment with the animal, and the meal must take place in some +properly authorised place. You must not break glass or china in the +street, nor, in fact, in any public resort whatever; and if you do, you +must pick up all the pieces. What you are to do with the pieces when you +have gathered them together I cannot say. The only thing I know for +certain is that you are not permitted to throw them anywhere, to leave +them anywhere, or apparently to part with them in any way whatever. +Presumably, you are expected to carry them about with you until you die, +and then be buried with them; or, maybe, you are allowed to swallow them. + +In German streets you must not shoot with a crossbow. The German law- +maker does not content himself with the misdeeds of the average man--the +crime one feels one wants to do, but must not: he worries himself +imagining all the things a wandering maniac might do. In Germany there +is no law against a man standing on his head in the middle of the road; +the idea has not occurred to them. One of these days a German statesman, +visiting a circus and seeing acrobats, will reflect upon this omission. +Then he will straightway set to work and frame a clause forbidding people +from standing on their heads in the middle of the road, and fixing a +fine. This is the charm of German law: misdemeanour in Germany has its +fixed price. You are not kept awake all night, as in England, wondering +whether you will get off with a caution, be fined forty shillings, or, +catching the magistrate in an unhappy moment for yourself, get seven +days. You know exactly what your fun is going to cost you. You can +spread out your money on the table, open your Police Guide, and plan out +your holiday to a fifty pfennig piece. For a really cheap evening, I +would recommend walking on the wrong side of the pavement after being +cautioned not to do so. I calculate that by choosing your district and +keeping to the quiet side streets you could walk for a whole evening on +the wrong side of the pavement at a cost of little over three marks. + +In German towns you must not ramble about after dark "in droves." I am +not quite sure how many constitute a "drove," and no official to whom I +have spoken on this subject has felt himself competent to fix the exact +number. I once put it to a German friend who was starting for the +theatre with his wife, his mother-in-law, five children of his own, his +sister and her _fiance_, and two nieces, if he did not think he was +running a risk under this by-law. He did not take my suggestion as a +joke. He cast an eye over the group. + +"Oh, I don't think so," he said; "you see, we are all one family." + +"The paragraph says nothing about its being a family drove or not," I +replied; "it simply says 'drove.' I do not mean it in any +uncomplimentary sense, but, speaking etymologically, I am inclined +personally to regard your collection as a 'drove.' Whether the police +will take the same view or not remains to be seen. I am merely warning +you." + +My friend himself was inclined to pooh-pooh my fears; but his wife +thinking it better not to run any risk of having the party broken up by +the police at the very beginning of the evening, they divided, arranging +to come together again in the theatre lobby. + +Another passion you must restrain in Germany is that prompting you to +throw things out of window. Cats are no excuse. During the first week +of my residence in Germany I was awakened incessantly by cats. One night +I got mad. I collected a small arsenal--two or three pieces of coal, a +few hard pears, a couple of candle ends, an odd egg I found on the +kitchen table, an empty soda-water bottle, and a few articles of that +sort,--and, opening the window, bombarded the spot from where the noise +appeared to come. I do not suppose I hit anything; I never knew a man +who did hit a cat, even when he could see it, except, maybe, by accident +when aiming at something else. I have known crack shots, winners of +Queen's prizes--those sort of men,--shoot with shot-guns at cats fifty +yards away, and never hit a hair. I have often thought that, instead of +bull's-eyes, running deer, and that rubbish, the really superior marksman +would be he who could boast that he had shot the cat. + +But, anyhow, they moved off; maybe the egg annoyed them. I had noticed +when I picked it up that it did not look a good egg; and I went back to +bed again, thinking the incident closed. Ten minutes afterwards there +came a violent ringing of the electric bell. I tried to ignore it, but +it was too persistent, and, putting on my dressing gown, I went down to +the gate. A policeman was standing there. He had all the things I had +been throwing out of the window in a little heap in front of him, all +except the egg. He had evidently been collecting them. He said: + +"Are these things yours?" + +I said: "They were mine, but personally I have done with them. Anybody +can have them--you can have them." + +He ignored my offer. He said: + +"You threw these things out of window." + +"You are right," I admitted; "I did." + +"Why did you throw them out of window?" he asked. A German policeman has +his code of questions arranged for him; he never varies them, and he +never omits one. + +"I threw them out of the window at some cats," I answered. + +"What cats?" he asked. + +It was the sort of question a German policeman would ask. I replied with +as much sarcasm as I could put into my accent that I was ashamed to say I +could not tell him what cats. I explained that, personally, they were +strangers to me; but I offered, if the police would call all the cats in +the district together, to come round and see if I could recognise them by +their yaul. + +The German policeman does not understand a joke, which is perhaps on the +whole just as well, for I believe there is a heavy fine for joking with +any German uniform; they call it "treating an official with contumely." +He merely replied that it was not the duty of the police to help me +recognise the cats; their duty was merely to fine me for throwing things +out of window. + +I asked what a man was supposed to do in Germany when woke up night after +night by cats, and he explained that I could lodge an information against +the owner of the cat, when the police would proceed to caution him, and, +if necessary, order the cat to be destroyed. Who was going to destroy +the cat, and what the cat would be doing during the process, he did not +explain. + +I asked him how he proposed I should discover the owner of the cat. He +thought for a while, and then suggested that I might follow it home. I +did not feel inclined to argue with him any more after that; I should +only have said things that would have made the matter worse. As it was, +that night's sport cost me twelve marks; and not a single one of the four +German officials who interviewed me on the subject could see anything +ridiculous in the proceedings from beginning to end. + +But in Germany most human faults and follies sink into comparative +insignificance beside the enormity of walking on the grass. Nowhere, and +under no circumstances, may you at any time in Germany walk on the grass. +Grass in Germany is quite a fetish. To put your foot on German grass +would be as great a sacrilege as to dance a hornpipe on a Mohammedan's +praying-mat. The very dogs respect German grass; no German dog would +dream of putting a paw on it. If you see a dog scampering across the +grass in Germany, you may know for certain that it is the dog of some +unholy foreigner. In England, when we want to keep dogs out of places, +we put up wire netting, six feet high, supported by buttresses, and +defended on the top by spikes. In Germany, they put a notice-board in +the middle of the place, "Hunden verboten," and a dog that has German +blood in its veins looks at that notice-board and walks away. In a +German park I have seen a gardener step gingerly with felt boots on to +grass-plot, and removing therefrom a beetle, place it gravely but firmly +on the gravel; which done, he stood sternly watching the beetle, to see +that it did not try to get back on the grass; and the beetle, looking +utterly ashamed of itself, walked hurriedly down the gutter, and turned +up the path marked "Ausgang." + +In German parks separate roads are devoted to the different orders of the +community, and no one person, at peril of liberty and fortune, may go +upon another person's road. There are special paths for "wheel-riders" +and special paths for "foot-goers," avenues for "horse-riders," roads for +people in light vehicles, and roads for people in heavy vehicles; ways +for children and for "alone ladies." That no particular route has yet +been set aside for bald-headed men or "new women" has always struck me as +an omission. + +In the Grosse Garten in Dresden I once came across an old lady, standing, +helpless and bewildered, in the centre of seven tracks. Each was guarded +by a threatening notice, warning everybody off it but the person for whom +it was intended. + +"I am sorry to trouble you," said the old lady, on learning I could speak +English and read German, "but would you mind telling me what I am and +where I have to go?" + +I inspected her carefully. I came to the conclusion that she was a +"grown-up" and a "foot-goer," and pointed out her path. She looked at +it, and seemed disappointed. + +"But I don't want to go down there," she said; "mayn't I go this way?" + +"Great heavens, no, madam!" I replied. "That path is reserved for +children." + +"But I wouldn't do them any harm," said the old lady, with a smile. She +did not look the sort of old lady who would have done them any harm. + +"Madam," I replied, "if it rested with me, I would trust you down that +path, though my own first-born were at the other end; but I can only +inform you of the laws of this country. For you, a full-grown woman, to +venture down that path is to go to certain fine, if not imprisonment. +There is your path, marked plainly--_Nur fur Fussganger_, and if you will +follow my advice, you will hasten down it; you are not allowed to stand +here and hesitate." + +"It doesn't lead a bit in the direction I want to go," said the old lady. + +"It leads in the direction you _ought_ to want to go," I replied, and we +parted. + +In the German parks there are special seats labelled, "Only for grown- +ups" (_Nur fur Erwachsene_), and the German small boy, anxious to sit +down, and reading that notice, passes by, and hunts for a seat on which +children are permitted to rest; and there he seats himself, careful not +to touch the woodwork with his muddy boots. Imagine a seat in Regent's +or St. James's Park labelled "Only for grown-ups!" Every child for five +miles round would be trying to get on that seat, and hauling other +children off who were on. As for any "grown-up," he would never be able +to get within half a mile of that seat for the crowd. The German small +boy, who has accidentally sat down on such without noticing, rises with a +start when his error is pointed out to him, and goes away with down-cast +head, blushing to the roots of his hair with shame and regret. + +Not that the German child is neglected by a paternal Government. In +German parks and public gardens special places (_Spielplatze_) are +provided for him, each one supplied with a heap of sand. There he can +play to his heart's content at making mud pies and building sand castles. +To the German child a pie made of any other mud than this would appear an +immoral pie. It would give to him no satisfaction: his soul would revolt +against it. + +"That pie," he would say to himself, "was not, as it should have been, +made of Government mud specially set apart for the purpose; it was nor +manufactured in the place planned and maintained by the Government for +the making of mud pies. It can bring no real blessing with it; it is a +lawless pie." And until his father had paid the proper fine, and he had +received his proper licking, his conscience would continue to trouble +him. + +Another excellent piece of material for obtaining excitement in Germany +is the simple domestic perambulator. What you may do with a +"kinder-wagen," as it is called, and what you may not, covers pages of +German law; after the reading of which, you conclude that the man who can +push a perambulator through a German town without breaking the law was +meant for a diplomatist. You must not loiter with a perambulator, and +you must not go too fast. You must not get in anybody's way with a +perambulator, and if anybody gets in your way you must get out of their +way. If you want to stop with a perambulator, you must go to a place +specially appointed where perambulators may stop; and when you get there +you _must_ stop. You must not cross the road with a perambulator; if you +and the baby happen to live on the other side, that is your fault. You +must not leave your perambulator anywhere, and only in certain places can +you take it with you. I should say that in Germany you could go out with +a perambulator and get into enough trouble in half an hour to last you +for a month. Any young Englishman anxious for a row with the police +could not do better than come over to Germany and bring his perambulator +with him. + +In Germany you must not leave your front door unlocked after ten o'clock +at night, and you must not play the piano in your own house after eleven. +In England I have never felt I wanted to play the piano myself, or to +hear anyone else play it, after eleven o'clock at night; but that is a +very different thing to being told that you must not play it. Here, in +Germany, I never feel that I really care for the piano until eleven +o'clock, then I could sit and listen to the "Maiden's Prayer," or the +Overture to "Zampa," with pleasure. To the law-loving German, on the +other hand, music after eleven o'clock at night ceases to be music; it +becomes sin, and as such gives him no satisfaction. + +The only individual throughout Germany who ever dreams of taking +liberties with the law is the German student, and he only to a certain +well-defined point. By custom, certain privileges are permitted to him, +but even these are strictly limited and clearly understood. For +instance, the German student may get drunk and fall asleep in the gutter +with no other penalty than that of having the next morning to tip the +policeman who has found him and brought him home. But for this purpose +he must choose the gutters of side-streets. The German student, +conscious of the rapid approach of oblivion, uses all his remaining +energy to get round the corner, where he may collapse without anxiety. In +certain districts he may ring bells. The rent of flats in these +localities is lower than in other quarters of the town; while the +difficulty is further met by each family preparing for itself a secret +code of bell-ringing by means of which it is known whether the summons is +genuine or not. When visiting such a household late at night it is well +to be acquainted with this code, or you may, if persistent, get a bucket +of water thrown over you. + +Also the German student is allowed to put out lights at night, but there +is a prejudice against his putting out too many. The larky German +student generally keeps count, contenting himself with half a dozen +lights per night. Likewise, he may shout and sing as he walks home, up +till half-past two; and at certain restaurants it is permitted to him to +put his arm round the Fraulein's waist. To prevent any suggestion of +unseemliness, the waitresses at restaurants frequented by students are +always carefully selected from among a staid and elderly classy of women, +by reason of which the German student can enjoy the delights of +flirtation without fear and without reproach to anyone. + +They are a law-abiding people, the Germans. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Baden from the visitor's point of view--Beauty of the early morning, as +viewed from the preceding afternoon--Distance, as measured by the +compass--Ditto, as measured by the leg--George in account with his +conscience--A lazy machine--Bicycling, according to the poster: its +restfulness--The poster cyclist: its costume; its method--The griffin as +a household pet--A dog with proper self-respect--The horse that was +abused. + +From Baden, about which it need only be said that it is a pleasure resort +singularly like other pleasure resorts of the same description, we +started bicycling in earnest. We planned a ten days' tour, which, while +completing the Black Forest, should include a spin down the Donau-Thal, +which for the twenty miles from Tuttlingen to Sigmaringen is, perhaps, +the finest valley in Germany; the Danube stream here winding its narrow +way past old-world unspoilt villages; past ancient monasteries, nestling +in green pastures, where still the bare-footed and bare-headed friar, his +rope girdle tight about his loins, shepherds, with crook in hand, his +sheep upon the hill sides; through rocky woods; between sheer walls of +cliff, whose every towering crag stands crowned with ruined fortress, +church, or castle; together with a blick at the Vosges mountains, where +half the population is bitterly pained if you speak to them in French, +the other half being insulted when you address them in German, and the +whole indignantly contemptuous at the first sound of English; a state of +things that renders conversation with the stranger somewhat nervous work. + +We did not succeed in carrying out our programme in its entirety, for the +reason that human performance lags ever behind human intention. It is +easy to say and believe at three o'clock in the afternoon that: "We will +rise at five, breakfast lightly at half-past, and start away at six." + +"Then we shall be well on our way before the heat of the day sets in," +remarks one. + +"This time of the year, the early morning is really the best part of the +day. Don't you think so?" adds another. + +"Oh, undoubtedly." + +"So cool and fresh." + +"And the half-lights are so exquisite." + +The first morning one maintains one's vows. The party assembles at half- +past five. It is very silent; individually, somewhat snappy; inclined to +grumble with its food, also with most other things; the atmosphere +charged with compressed irritability seeking its vent. In the evening +the Tempter's voice is heard: + +"I think if we got off by half-past six, sharp, that would be time +enough?" + +The voice of Virtue protests, faintly: "It will be breaking our +resolution." + +The Tempter replies: "Resolutions were made for man, not man for +resolutions." The devil can paraphrase Scripture for his own purpose. +"Besides, it is disturbing the whole hotel; think of the poor servants." + +The voice of Virtue continues, but even feebler: "But everybody gets up +early in these parts." + +"They would not if they were not obliged to, poor things! Say breakfast +at half-past six, punctual; that will be disturbing nobody." + +Thus Sin masquerades under the guise of Good, and one sleeps till six, +explaining to one's conscience, who, however, doesn't believe it, that +one does this because of unselfish consideration for others. I have +known such consideration extend until seven of the clock. + +Likewise, distance measured with a pair of compasses is not precisely the +same as when measured by the leg. + +"Ten miles an hour for seven hours, seventy miles. A nice easy day's +work." + +"There are some stiff hills to climb?" + +"The other side to come down. Say, eight miles an hour, and call it +sixty miles. Gott in Himmel! if we can't average eight miles an hour, we +had better go in bath-chairs." It does seem somewhat impossible to do +less, on paper. + +But at four o'clock in the afternoon the voice of Duty rings less trumpet- +toned: + +"Well, I suppose we ought to be getting on." + +"Oh, there's no hurry! don't fuss. Lovely view from here, isn't it?" + +"Very. Don't forget we are twenty-five miles from St. Blasien." + +"How far?" + +"Twenty-five miles, a little over if anything." + +"Do you mean to say we have only come thirty-five miles?" + +"That's all." + +"Nonsense. I don't believe that map of yours." + +"It is impossible, you know. We have been riding steadily ever since the +first thing this morning." + +"No, we haven't. We didn't get away till eight, to begin with." + +"Quarter to eight." + +"Well, quarter to eight; and every half-dozen miles we have stopped." + +"We have only stopped to look at the view. It's no good coming to see a +country, and then not seeing it." + +"And we have had to pull up some stiff hills." + +"Besides, it has been an exceptionally hot day to-day." + +"Well, don't forget St. Blasien is twenty-five miles off, that's all." + +"Any more hills?" + +"Yes, two; up and down." + +"I thought you said it was downhill into St. Blasien?" + +"So it is for the last ten miles. We are twenty-five miles from St. +Blasien here." + +"Isn't there anywhere between here and St. Blasien? What's that little +place there on the lake?" + +"It isn't St. Blasien, or anywhere near it. There's a danger in +beginning that sort of thing." + +"There's a danger in overworking oneself. One should study moderation in +all things. Pretty little place, that Titisee, according to the map; +looks as if there would be good air there." + +"All right, I'm agreeable. It was you fellows who suggested our making +for St. Blasien." + +"Oh, I'm not so keen on St. Blasien! poky little place, down in a valley. +This Titisee, I should say, was ever so much nicer." + +"Quite near, isn't it?" + +"Five miles." + +General chorus: "We'll stop at Titisee." + +George made discovery of this difference between theory and practice on +the very first day of our ride. + +"I thought," said George--he was riding the single, Harris and I being a +little ahead on the tandem--"that the idea was to train up the hills and +ride down them." + +"So it is," answered Harris, "as a general rule. But the trains don't go +up _every_ hill in the Black Forest." + +"Somehow, I felt a suspicion that they wouldn't," growled George; and for +awhile silence reigned. + +"Besides," remarked Harris, who had evidently been ruminating the +subject, "you would not wish to have nothing but downhill, surely. It +would not be playing the game. One must take a little rough with one's +smooth." + +Again there returned silence, broken after awhile by George, this time. + +"Don't you two fellows over-exert yourselves merely on my account," said +George. + +"How do you mean?" asked Harris. + +"I mean," answered George, "that where a train does happen to be going up +these hills, don't you put aside the idea of taking it for fear of +outraging my finer feelings. Personally, I am prepared to go up all +these hills in a railway train, even if it's not playing the game. I'll +square the thing with my conscience; I've been up at seven every day for +a week now, and I calculate it owes me a bit. Don't you consider me in +the matter at all." + +We promised to bear this in mind, and again the ride continued in dogged +dumbness, until it was again broken by George. + +"What bicycle did you say this was of yours?" asked George. + +Harris told him. I forget of what particular manufacture it happened to +be; it is immaterial. + +"Are you sure?" persisted George. + +"Of course I am sure," answered Harris. "Why, what's the matter with +it?" + +"Well, it doesn't come up to the poster," said George, "that's all." + +"What poster?" asked Harris. + +"The poster advertising this particular brand of cycle," explained +George. "I was looking at one on a hoarding in Sloane Street only a day +or two before we started. A man was riding this make of machine, a man +with a banner in his hand: he wasn't doing any work, that was clear as +daylight; he was just sitting on the thing and drinking in the air. The +cycle was going of its own accord, and going well. This thing of yours +leaves all the work to me. It is a lazy brute of a machine; if you don't +shove, it simply does nothing: I should complain about it, if I were +you." + +When one comes to think of it, few bicycles do realise the poster. On +only one poster that I can recollect have I seen the rider represented as +doing any work. But then this man was being pursued by a bull. In +ordinary cases the object of the artist is to convince the hesitating +neophyte that the sport of bicycling consists in sitting on a luxurious +saddle, and being moved rapidly in the direction you wish to go by unseen +heavenly powers. + +Generally speaking, the rider is a lady, and then one feels that, for +perfect bodily rest combined with entire freedom from mental anxiety, +slumber upon a water-bed cannot compare with bicycle-riding upon a hilly +road. No fairy travelling on a summer cloud could take things more +easily than does the bicycle girl, according to the poster. Her costume +for cycling in hot weather is ideal. Old-fashioned landladies might +refuse her lunch, it is true; and a narrowminded police force might +desire to secure her, and wrap her in a rug preliminary to summonsing +her. But such she heeds not. Uphill and downhill, through traffic that +might tax the ingenuity of a cat, over road surfaces calculated to break +the average steam roller she passes, a vision of idle loveliness; her +fair hair streaming to the wind, her sylph-like form poised airily, one +foot upon the saddle, the other resting lightly upon the lamp. Sometimes +she condescends to sit down on the saddle; then she puts her feet on the +rests, lights a cigarette, and waves above her head a Chinese lantern. + +Less often, it is a mere male thing that rides the machine. He is not so +accomplished an acrobat as is the lady; but simple tricks, such as +standing on the saddle and waving flags, drinking beer or beef-tea while +riding, he can and does perform. Something, one supposes, he must do to +occupy his mind: sitting still hour after hour on this machine, having no +work to do, nothing to think about, must pall upon any man of active +temperament. Thus it is that we see him rising on his pedals as he nears +the top of some high hill to apostrophise the sun, or address poetry to +the surrounding scenery. + +Occasionally the poster pictures a pair of cyclists; and then one grasps +the fact how much superior for purposes of flirtation is the modern +bicycle to the old-fashioned parlour or the played-out garden gate. He +and she mount their bicycles, being careful, of course, that such are of +the right make. After that they have nothing to think about but the old +sweet tale. Down shady lanes, through busy towns on market days, merrily +roll the wheels of the "Bermondsey Company's Bottom Bracket Britain's +Best," or of the "Camberwell Company's Jointless Eureka." They need no +pedalling; they require no guiding. Give them their heads, and tell them +what time you want to get home, and that is all they ask. While Edwin +leans from his saddle to whisper the dear old nothings in Angelina's ear, +while Angelina's face, to hide its blushes, is turned towards the horizon +at the back, the magic bicycles pursue their even course. + +And the sun is always shining and the roads are always dry. No stern +parent rides behind, no interfering aunt beside, no demon small boy +brother is peeping round the corner, there never comes a skid. Ah me! +Why were there no "Britain's Best" nor "Camberwell Eurekas" to be hired +when _we_ were young? + +Or maybe the "Britain's Best" or the "Camberwell Eureka" stands leaning +against a gate; maybe it is tired. It has worked hard all the afternoon, +carrying these young people. Mercifully minded, they have dismounted, to +give the machine a rest. They sit upon the grass beneath the shade of +graceful boughs; it is long and dry grass. A stream flows by their feet. +All is rest and peace. + +That is ever the idea the cycle poster artist sets himself to convey--rest +and peace. + +But I am wrong in saying that no cyclist, according to the poster, ever +works. Now I come to reflect, I have seen posters representing gentlemen +on cycles working very hard--over-working themselves, one might almost +say. They are thin and haggard with the toil, the perspiration stands +upon their brow in beads; you feel that if there is another hill beyond +the poster they must either get off or die. But this is the result of +their own folly. This happens because they will persist in riding a +machine of an inferior make. Were they riding a "Putney Popular" or +"Battersea Bounder," such as the sensible young man in the centre of the +poster rides, then all this unnecessary labour would be saved to them. +Then all required of them would be, as in gratitude bound, to look happy; +perhaps, occasionally to back-pedal a little when the machine in its +youthful buoyancy loses its head for a moment and dashes on too swiftly. + +You tired young men, sitting dejectedly on milestones, too spent to heed +the steady rain that soaks you through; you weary maidens, with the +straight, damp hair, anxious about the time, longing to swear, not +knowing how; you stout bald men, vanishing visibly as you pant and grunt +along the endless road; you purple, dejected matrons, plying with pain +the slow unwilling wheel; why did you not see to it that you bought a +"Britain's Best" or a "Camberwell Eureka"? Why are these bicycles of +inferior make so prevalent throughout the land? + +Or is it with bicycling as with all other things: does Life at no point +realise the Poster? + +The one thing in Germany that never fails to charm and fascinate me is +the German dog. In England one grows tired of the old breeds, one knows +them all so well: the mastiff, the plum-pudding dog, the terrier (black, +white or rough-haired, as the case may be, but always quarrelsome), the +collie, the bulldog; never anything new. Now in Germany you get variety. +You come across dogs the like of which you have never seen before: that +until you hear them bark you do not know are dogs. It is all so fresh, +so interesting. George stopped a dog in Sigmaringen and drew our +attention to it. It suggested a cross between a codfish and a poodle. I +would not like to be positive it was _not_ a cross between a codfish and +a poodle. Harris tried to photograph it, but it ran up a fence and +disappeared through some bushes. + +I do not know what the German breeder's idea is; at present he retains +his secret. George suggests he is aiming at a griffin. There is much to +bear out this theory, and indeed in one or two cases I have come across +success on these lines would seem to have been almost achieved. Yet I +cannot bring myself to believe that such are anything more than mere +accidents. The German is practical, and I fail to see the object of a +griffin. If mere quaintness of design be desired, is there not already +the Dachshund! What more is needed? Besides, about a house, a griffin +would be so inconvenient: people would be continually treading on its +tail. My own idea is that what the Germans are trying for is a mermaid, +which they will then train to catch fish. + +For your German does not encourage laziness in any living thing. He +likes to see his dogs work, and the German dog loves work; of that there +can be no doubt. The life of the English dog must be a misery to him. +Imagine a strong, active, and intelligent being, of exceptionally +energetic temperament, condemned to spend twenty-four hours a day in +absolute idleness! How would you like it yourself? No wonder he feels +misunderstood, yearns for the unattainable, and gets himself into trouble +generally. + +Now the German dog, on the other hand, has plenty to occupy his mind. He +is busy and important. Watch him as he walks along harnessed to his milk +cart. No churchwarden at collection time could feel or look more pleased +with himself. He does not do any real work; the human being does the +pushing, he does the barking; that is his idea of division of labour. +What he says to himself is: + +"The old man can't bark, but he can shove. Very well." + +The interest and the pride he takes in the business is quite beautiful to +see. Another dog passing by makes, maybe, some jeering remark, casting +discredit upon the creaminess of the milk. He stops suddenly, quite +regardless of the traffic. + +"I beg your pardon, what was that you said about our milk?" + +"I said nothing about your milk," retorts the other dog, in a tone of +gentle innocence. "I merely said it was a fine day, and asked the price +of chalk." + +"Oh, you asked the price of chalk, did you? Would you like to know?" + +"Yes, thanks; somehow I thought you would be able to tell me." + +"You are quite right, I can. It's worth--" + +"Oh, do come along!" says the old lady, who is tired and hot, and anxious +to finish her round. + +"Yes, but hang it all; did you hear what he hinted about our milk?" + +"Oh, never mind him! There's a tram coming round the corner: we shall +all get run over." + +"Yes, but I do mind him; one has one's proper pride. He asked the price +of chalk, and he's going to know it! It's worth just twenty times as +much--" + +"You'll have the whole thing over, I know you will," cries the old lady, +pathetically, struggling with all her feeble strength to haul him back. +"Oh dear, oh dear! I do wish I had left you at home." + +The tram is bearing down upon them; a cab-driver is shouting at them; +another huge brute, hoping to be in time to take a hand, is dragging a +bread cart, followed by a screaming child, across the road from the +opposite side; a small crowd is collecting; and a policeman is hastening +to the scene. + +"It's worth," says the milk dog, "just twenty-times as much as you'll be +worth before I've done with you." + +"Oh, you think so, do you?" + +"Yes, I do, you grandson of a French poodle, you cabbage-eating--" + +"There! I knew you'd have it over," says the poor milk-woman. "I told +him he'd have it over." + +But he is busy, and heeds her not. Five minutes later, when the traffic +is renewed, when the bread girl has collected her muddy rolls, and the +policeman has gone off with the name and address of everybody in the +street, he consents to look behind him. + +"It _is_ a bit of an upset," he admits. Then shaking himself free of +care, he adds, cheerfully, "But I guess I taught him the price of chalk. +He won't interfere with us again, I'm thinking." + +"I'm sure I hope not," says the old lady, regarding dejectedly the milky +road. + +But his favourite sport is to wait at the top of the hill for another +dog, and then race down. On these occasions the chief occupation of the +other fellow is to run about behind, picking up the scattered articles, +loaves, cabbages, or shirts, as they are jerked out. At the bottom of +the hill, he stops and waits for his friend. + +"Good race, wasn't it?" he remarks, panting, as the Human comes up, laden +to the chin. "I believe I'd have won it, too, if it hadn't been for that +fool of a small boy. He was right in my way just as I turned the corner. +_You noticed him_? Wish I had, beastly brat! What's he yelling like +that for? _Because I knocked him down and ran over him_? Well, why +didn't he get out of the way? It's disgraceful, the way people leave +their children about for other people to tumble over. Halloa! did all +those things come out? You couldn't have packed them very carefully; you +should see to a thing like that. _You did not dream of my tearing down +the hill twenty miles an hour_? Surely, you knew me better than to +expect I'd let that old Schneider's dog pass me without an effort. But +there, you never think. You're sure you've got them all? _You believe +so_? I shouldn't 'believe' if I were you; I should run back up the hill +again and make sure. _You feel too tired_? Oh, all right! don't blame +me if anything is missing, that's all." + +He is so self-willed. He is cock-sure that the correct turning is the +second on the right, and nothing will persuade him that it is the third. +He is positive he can get across the road in time, and will not be +convinced until he sees the cart smashed up. Then he is very apologetic, +it is true. But of what use is that? As he is usually of the size and +strength of a young bull, and his human companion is generally a weak- +kneed old man or woman, or a small child, he has his way. The greatest +punishment his proprietor can inflict upon him is to leave him at home, +and take the cart out alone. But your German is too kind-hearted to do +this often. + +That he is harnessed to the cart for anybody's pleasure but his own it is +impossible to believe; and I am confident that the German peasant plans +the tiny harness and fashions the little cart purely with the hope of +gratifying his dog. In other countries--in Belgium, Holland and France--I +have seen these draught dogs ill-treated and over-worked; but in Germany, +never. Germans abuse animals shockingly. I have seen a German stand in +front of his horse and call it every name he could lay his tongue to. But +the horse did not mind it. I have seen a German, weary with abusing his +horse, call to his wife to come out and assist him. When she came, he +told her what the horse had done. The recital roused the woman's temper +to almost equal heat with his own; and standing one each side of the poor +beast, they both abused it. They abused its dead mother, they insulted +its father; they made cutting remarks about its personal appearance, its +intelligence, its moral sense, its general ability as a horse. The +animal bore the torrent with exemplary patience for awhile; then it did +the best thing possible to do under the circumstances. Without losing +its own temper, it moved quietly away. The lady returned to her washing, +and the man followed it up the street, still abusing it. + +A kinder-hearted people than the Germans there is no need for. Cruelty +to animal or child is a thing almost unknown in the land. The whip with +them is a musical instrument; its crack is heard from morning to night, +but an Italian coachman that in the streets of Dresden I once saw use it +was very nearly lynched by the indignant crowd. Germany is the only +country in Europe where the traveller can settle himself comfortably in +his hired carriage, confident that his gentle, willing friend between the +shafts will be neither over-worked nor cruelly treated. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Black Forest House: and the sociability therein--Its perfume--George +positively declines to remain in bed after four o'clock in the +morning--The road one cannot miss--My peculiar extra instinct--An +ungrateful party--Harris as a scientist--His cheery confidence--The +village: where it was, and where it ought to have been--George: his +plan--We promenade a la Francais--The German coachman asleep and +awake--The man who spreads the English language abroad. + +There was one night when, tired out and far from town or village, we +slept in a Black Forest farmhouse. The great charm about the Black +Forest house is its sociability. The cows are in the next room, the +horses are upstairs, the geese and ducks are in the kitchen, while the +pigs, the children, and the chickens live all over the place. + +You are dressing, when you hear a grunt behind you. + +"Good-morning! Don't happen to have any potato peelings in here? No, I +see you haven't; good-bye." + +Next there is a cackle, and you see the neck of an old hen stretched +round the corner. + +"Fine morning, isn't it? You don't mind my bringing this worm of mine in +here, do you? It is so difficult in this house to find a room where one +can enjoy one's food with any quietness. From a chicken I have always +been a slow eater, and when a dozen--there, I thought they wouldn't leave +me alone. Now they'll all want a bit. You don't mind my getting on the +bed, do you? Perhaps here they won't notice me." + +While you are dressing various shock heads peer in at the door; they +evidently regard the room as a temporary menagerie. You cannot tell +whether the heads belong to boys or girls; you can only hope they are all +male. It is of no use shutting the door, because there is nothing to +fasten it by, and the moment you are gone they push it open again. You +breakfast as the Prodigal Son is generally represented feeding: a pig or +two drop in to keep you company; a party of elderly geese criticise you +from the door; you gather from their whispers, added to their shocked +expression, that they are talking scandal about you. Maybe a cow will +condescend to give a glance in. + +This Noah's Ark arrangement it is, I suppose, that gives to the Black +Forest home its distinctive scent. It is not a scent you can liken to +any one thing. It is as if you took roses and Limburger cheese and hair +oil, some heather and onions, peaches and soapsuds, together with a dash +of sea air and a corpse, and mixed them up together. You cannot define +any particular odour, but you feel they are all there--all the odours +that the world has yet discovered. People who live in these houses are +fond of this mixture. They do not open the window and lose any of it; +they keep it carefully bottled up. If you want any other scent, you can +go outside and smell the wood violets and the pines; inside there is the +house; and after a while, I am told, you get used to it, so that you miss +it, and are unable to go to sleep in any other atmosphere. + +We had a long walk before us the next day, and it was our desire, +therefore, to get up early, even so early as six o'clock, if that could +be managed without disturbing the whole household. We put it to our +hostess whether she thought this could be done. She said she thought it +could. She might not be about herself at that time; it was her morning +for going into the town, some eight miles off, and she rarely got back +much before seven; but, possibly, her husband or one of the boys would be +returning home to lunch about that hour. Anyhow, somebody should be sent +back to wake us and get our breakfast. + +As it turned out, we did not need any waking. We got up at four, all by +ourselves. We got up at four in order to get away from the noise and the +din that was making our heads ache. What time the Black Forest peasant +rises in the summer time I am unable to say; to us they appeared to be +getting up all night. And the first thing the Black Forester does when +he gets up is to put on a pair of stout boots with wooden soles, and take +a constitutional round the house. Until he has been three times up and +down the stairs, he does not feel he is up. Once fully awake himself, +the next thing he does is to go upstairs to the stables, and wake up a +horse. (The Black Forest house being built generally on the side of a +steep hill, the ground floor is at the top, and the hay-loft at the +bottom.) Then the horse, it would seem, must also have its +constitutional round the house; and this seen to, the man goes downstairs +into the kitchen and begins to chop wood, and when he has chopped +sufficient wood he feels pleased with himself and begins to sing. All +things considered, we came to the conclusion we could not do better than +follow the excellent example set us. Even George was quite eager to get +up that morning. + +We had a frugal breakfast at half-past four, and started away at five. +Our road lay over a mountain, and from enquiries made in the village it +appeared to be one of those roads you cannot possibly miss. I suppose +everybody knows this sort of road. Generally, it leads you back to where +you started from; and when it doesn't, you wish it did, so that at all +events you might know where you were. I foresaw evil from the very +first, and before we had accomplished a couple of miles we came up with +it. The road divided into three. A worm-eaten sign-post indicated that +the path to the left led to a place that we had never heard of--that was +on no map. Its other arm, pointing out the direction of the middle road, +had disappeared. The road to the right, so we all agreed, clearly led +back again to the village. + +"The old man said distinctly," so Harris reminded us, "keep straight on +round the hill." + +"Which hill?" George asked, pertinently. + +We were confronted by half a dozen, some of them big, some of them +little. + +"He told us," continued Harris, "that we should come to a wood." + +"I see no reason to doubt him," commented George, "whichever road we +take." + +As a matter of fact, a dense wood covered every hill. + +"And he said," murmured Harris, "that we should reach the top in about an +hour and a half." + +"There it is," said George, "that I begin to disbelieve him." + +"Well, what shall we do?" said Harris. + +Now I happen to possess the bump of locality. It is not a virtue; I make +no boast of it. It is merely an animal instinct that I cannot help. That +things occasionally get in my way--mountains, precipices, rivers, and +such like obstructions--is no fault of mine. My instinct is correct +enough; it is the earth that is wrong. I led them by the middle road. +That the middle road had not character enough to continue for any quarter +of a mile in the same direction; that after three miles up and down hill +it ended abruptly in a wasps' nest, was not a thing that should have been +laid to my door. If the middle road had gone in the direction it ought +to have done, it would have taken us to where we wanted to go, of that I +am convinced. + +Even as it was, I would have continued to use this gift of mine to +discover a fresh way had a proper spirit been displayed towards me. But +I am not an angel--I admit this frankly,--and I decline to exert myself +for the ungrateful and the ribald. Besides, I doubt if George and Harris +would have followed me further in any event. Therefore it was that I +washed my hands of the whole affair, and that Harris entered upon the +vacancy. + +"Well," said Harris. "I suppose you are satisfied with what you have +done?" + +"I am quite satisfied," I replied from the heap of stones where I was +sitting. "So far, I have brought you with safety. I would continue to +lead you further, but no artist can work without encouragement. You +appear dissatisfied with me because you do not know where you are. For +all you know, you may be just where you want to be. But I say nothing as +to that; I expect no thanks. Go your own way; I have done with you +both." + +I spoke, perhaps, with bitterness, but I could not help it. Not a word +of kindness had I had all the weary way. + +"Do not misunderstand us," said Harris; "both George and myself feel that +without your assistance we should never be where we now are. For that we +give you every credit. But instinct is liable to error. What I propose +to do is to substitute for it Science, which is exact. Now, where's the +sun?" + +"Don't you think," said George, "that if we made our way back to the +village, and hired a boy for a mark to guide us, it would save time in +the end?" + +"It would be wasting hours," said Harris, with decision. "You leave this +to me. I have been reading about this thing, and it has interested me." +He took out his watch, and began turning himself round and round. + +"It's as simple as A B C," he continued. "You point the short hand at +the sun, then you bisect the segment between the short hand and the +twelve, and thus you get the north." + +He worried up and down for a while, then he fixed it. + +"Now I've got it," he said; "that's the north, where that wasps' nest is. +Now give me the map." + +We handed it to him, and seating himself facing the wasps, he examined +it. + +"Todtmoos from here," he said, "is south by south-west." + +"How do you mean, from here?" asked George. + +"Why, from here, where we are," returned Harris. + +"But where are we?" said George. + +This worried Harris for a time, but at length he cheered up. + +"It doesn't matter where we are," he said. "Wherever we are, Todtmoos is +south by south-west. Come on, we are only wasting time." + +"I don't quite see how you make it out," said George, as he rose and +shouldered his knapsack; "but I suppose it doesn't matter. We are out +for our health, and it's all pretty!" + +"We shall be all right," said Harris, with cheery confidence. "We shall +be in at Todtmoos before ten, don't you worry. And at Todtmoos we will +have something to eat." + +He said that he, himself, fancied a beefsteak, followed by an omelette. +George said that, personally, he intended to keep his mind off the +subject until he saw Todtmoos. + +We walked for half an hour, then emerging upon an opening, we saw below +us, about two miles away, the village through which we had passed that +morning. It had a quaint church with an outside staircase, a somewhat +unusual arrangement. + +The sight of it made me sad. We had been walking hard for three hours +and a half, and had accomplished, apparently, about four miles. But +Harris was delighted. + +"Now, at last," said Harris, "we know where we are." + +"I thought you said it didn't matter," George reminded him. + +"No more it does, practically," replied Harris, "but it is just as well +to be certain. Now I feel more confidence in myself." + +"I'm not so sure about that being an advantage," muttered George. But I +do not think Harris heard him. + +"We are now," continued Harris, "east of the sun, and Todtmoos is south- +west of where we are. So that if--" + +He broke off. "By-the-by," he said, "do you remember whether I said the +bisecting line of that segment pointed to the north or to the south?" + +"You said it pointed to the north," replied George. + +"Are you positive?" persisted Harris. + +"Positive," answered George "but don't let that influence your +calculations. In all probability you were wrong." + +Harris thought for a while; then his brow cleared. + +"That's all right," he said; "of course, it's the north. It must be the +north. How could it be the south? Now we must make for the west. Come +on." + +"I am quite willing to make for the west," said George; "any point of the +compass is the same to me. I only wish to remark that, at the present +moment, we are going dead east." + +"No we are not," returned Harris; "we are going west." + +"We are going east, I tell you," said George. + +"I wish you wouldn't keep saying that," said Harris, "you confuse me." + +"I don't mind if I do," returned George; "I would rather do that than go +wrong. I tell you we are going dead east." + +"What nonsense!" retorted Harris; "there's the sun." + +"I can see the sun," answered George, "quite distinctly. It may be where +it ought to be, according to you and Science, or it may not. All I know +is, that when we were down in the village, that particular hill with that +particular lump of rock upon it was due north of us. At the present +moment we are facing due east." + +"You are quite right," said Harris; "I forgot for the moment that we had +turned round." + +"I should get into the habit of making a note of it, if I were you," +grumbled George; "it's a manoeuvre that will probably occur again more +than once." + +We faced about, and walked in the other direction. At the end of forty +minutes' climbing we again emerged upon an opening, and again the village +lay just under our feet. On this occasion it was south of us. + +"This is very extraordinary," said Harris. + +"I see nothing remarkable about it," said George. "If you walk steadily +round a village it is only natural that now and then you get a glimpse of +it. Myself, I am glad to see it. It proves to me that we are not +utterly lost." + +"It ought to be the other side of us," said Harris. + +"It will be in another hour or so," said George, "if we keep on." + +I said little myself; I was vexed with both of them; but I was glad to +notice George evidently growing cross with Harris. It was absurd of +Harris to fancy he could find the way by the sun. + +"I wish I knew," said Harris, thoughtfully, "for certain whether that +bisecting line points to the north or to the south." + +"I should make up my mind about it," said George; "it's an important +point." + +"It's impossible it can be the north," said Harris, "and I'll tell you +why." + +"You needn't trouble," said George; "I am quite prepared to believe it +isn't." + +"You said just now it was," said Harris, reproachfully. + +"I said nothing of the sort," retorted George. "I said you said it was--a +very different thing. If you think it isn't, let's go the other way. +It'll be a change, at all events." + +So Harris worked things out according to the contrary calculation, and +again we plunged into the wood; and again after half an hour's stiff +climbing we came in view of that same village. True, we were a little +higher, and this time it lay between us and the sun. + +"I think," said George, as he stood looking down at it, "this is the best +view we've had of it, as yet. There is only one other point from which +we can see it. After that, I propose we go down into it and get some +rest." + +"I don't believe it's the same village," said Harris; "it can't be." + +"There's no mistaking that church," said George. "But maybe it is a case +on all fours with that Prague statue. Possibly, the authorities +hereabout have had made some life-sized models of that village, and have +stuck them about the Forest to see where the thing would look best. +Anyhow, which way do we go now?" + +"I don't know," said Harris, "and I don't care. I have done my best; +you've done nothing but grumble, and confuse me." + +"I may have been critical," admitted George "but look at the thing from +my point of view. One of you says he's got an instinct, and leads me to +a wasps' nest in the middle of a wood." + +"I can't help wasps building in a wood," I replied. + +"I don't say you can," answered George. "I am not arguing; I am merely +stating incontrovertible facts. The other one, who leads me up and down +hill for hours on scientific principles, doesn't know the north from the +south, and is never quite sure whether he's turned round or whether he +hasn't. Personally, I profess to no instincts beyond the ordinary, nor +am I a scientist. But two fields off I can see a man. I am going to +offer him the worth of the hay he is cutting, which I estimate at one +mark fifty pfennig, to leave his work, and lead me to within sight of +Todtmoos. If you two fellows like to follow, you can. If not, you can +start another system and work it out by yourselves." + +George's plan lacked both originality and aplomb, but at the moment it +appealed to us. Fortunately, we had worked round to a very short +distance away from the spot where we had originally gone wrong; with the +result that, aided by the gentleman of the scythe, we recovered the road, +and reached Todtmoos four hours later than we had calculated to reach it, +with an appetite that took forty-five minutes' steady work in silence to +abate. + +From Todtmoos we had intended to walk down to the Rhine; but having +regard to our extra exertions of the morning, we decided to promenade in +a carriage, as the French would say: and for this purpose hired a +picturesque-looking vehicle, drawn by a horse that I should have called +barrel-bodied but for contrast with his driver, in comparison with whom +he was angular. In Germany every vehicle is arranged for a pair of +horses, but drawn generally by one. This gives to the equipage a lop- +sided appearance, according to our notions, but it is held here to +indicate style. The idea to be conveyed is that you usually drive a pair +of horses, but that for the moment you have mislaid the other one. The +German driver is not what we should call a first-class whip. He is at +his best when he is asleep. Then, at all events, he is harmless; and the +horse being, generally speaking, intelligent and experienced, progress +under these conditions is comparatively safe. If in Germany they could +only train the horse to collect the money at the end of the journey, +there would be no need for a coachman at all. This would be a distinct +relief to the passenger, for when the German coachman is awake and not +cracking his whip he is generally occupied in getting himself into +trouble or out of it. He is better at the former. Once I recollect +driving down a steep Black Forest hill with a couple of ladies. It was +one of those roads winding corkscrew-wise down the slope. The hill rose +at an angle of seventy-five on the off-side, and fell away at an angle of +seventy-five on the near-side. We were proceeding very comfortably, the +driver, we were happy to notice, with his eyes shut, when suddenly +something, a bad dream or indigestion, awoke him. He seized the reins, +and, by an adroit movement, pulled the near-side horse over the edge, +where it clung, half supported by the traces. Our driver did not appear +in the least annoyed or surprised; both horses, I also, noticed, seemed +equally used to the situation. We got out, and he got down. He took +from under the seat a huge clasp-knife, evidently kept there for the +purpose, and deftly cut the traces. The horse, thus released, rolled +over and over until he struck the road again some fifty feet below. There +he regained his feet and stood waiting for us. We re-entered the +carriage and descended with the single horse until we came to him. There, +with the help of some bits of string, our driver harnessed him again, and +we continued on our way. What impressed me was the evident +accustomedness of both driver and horses to this method of working down a +hill. + +Evidently to them it appeared a short and convenient cut. I should not +have been surprised had the man suggested our strapping ourselves in, and +then rolling over and over, carriage and all, to the bottom. + +Another peculiarity of the German coachman is that he never attempts to +pull in or to pull up. He regulates his rate of speed, not by the pace +of the horse, but by manipulation of the brake. For eight miles an hour +he puts it on slightly, so that it only scrapes the wheel, producing a +continuous sound as of the sharpening of a saw; for four miles an hour he +screws it down harder, and you travel to an accompaniment of groans and +shrieks, suggestive of a symphony of dying pigs. When he desires to come +to a full stop, he puts it on to its full. If his brake be a good one, +he calculates he can stop his carriage, unless the horse be an extra +powerful animal, in less than twice its own length. Neither the German +driver nor the German horse knows, apparently, that you can stop a +carriage by any other method. The German horse continues to pull with +his full strength until he finds it impossible to move the vehicle +another inch; then he rests. Horses of other countries are quite willing +to stop when the idea is suggested to them. I have known horses content +to go even quite slowly. But your German horse, seemingly, is built for +one particular speed, and is unable to depart from it. I am stating +nothing but the literal, unadorned truth, when I say I have seen a German +coachman, with the reins lying loose over the splash-board, working his +brake with both hands, in terror lest he would not be in time to avoid a +collision. + +At Waldshut, one of those little sixteenth-century towns through which +the Rhine flows during its earlier course, we came across that +exceedingly common object of the Continent: the travelling Briton grieved +and surprised at the unacquaintance of the foreigner with the subtleties +of the English language. When we entered the station he was, in very +fair English, though with a slight Somersetshire accent, explaining to a +porter for the tenth time, as he informed us, the simple fact that though +he himself had a ticket for Donaueschingen, and wanted to go to +Donaueschingen, to see the source of the Danube, which is not there, +though they tell you it is, he wished his bicycle to be sent on to Engen +and his bag to Constance, there to await his arrival. He was hot and +angry with the effort of the thing. The porter was a young man in years, +but at the moment looked old and miserable. I offered my services. I +wish now I had not--though not so fervently, I expect, as he, the +speechless one, came subsequently to wish this. All three routes, so the +porter explained to us, were complicated, necessitating changing and re- +changing. There was not much time for calm elucidation, as our own train +was starting in a few minutes. The man himself was voluble--always a +mistake when anything entangled has to be made clear; while the porter +was only too eager to get the job done with and so breathe again. It +dawned upon me ten minutes later, when thinking the matter over in the +train, that though I had agreed with the porter that it would be best for +the bicycle to go by way of Immendingen, and had agreed to his booking it +to Immendingen, I had neglected to give instructions for its departure +from Immendingen. Were I of a despondent temperament I should be +worrying myself at the present moment with the reflection that in all +probability that bicycle is still at Immendingen to this day. But I +regard it as good philosophy to endeavour always to see the brighter side +of things. Possibly the porter corrected my omission on his own account, +or some simple miracle may have happened to restore that bicycle to its +owner some time before the end of his tour. The bag we sent to +Radolfzell: but here I console myself with the recollection that it was +labelled Constance; and no doubt after a while the railway authorities, +finding it unclaimed at Radolfzell, forwarded it on to Constance. + +But all this is apart from the moral I wished to draw from the incident. +The true inwardness of the situation lay in the indignation of this +Britisher at finding a German railway porter unable to comprehend +English. The moment we spoke to him he expressed this indignation in no +measured terms. + +"Thank you very much indeed," he said; "it's simple enough. I want to go +to Donaueschingen myself by train; from Donaueschingen I am going to walk +to Geisengen; from Geisengen I am going to take the train to Engen, and +from Engen I am going to bicycle to Constance. But I don't want to take +my bag with me; I want to find it at Constance when I get there. I have +been trying to explain the thing to this fool for the last ten minutes; +but I can't get it into him." + +"It is very disgraceful," I agreed. "Some of these German workmen know +hardly any other language than their own." + +"I have gone over it with him," continued the man, "on the time table, +and explained it by pantomime. Even then I could not knock it into him." + +"I can hardly believe you," I again remarked; "you would think the thing +explained itself." + +Harris was angry with the man; he wished to reprove him for his folly in +journeying through the outlying portions of a foreign clime, and seeking +in such to accomplish complicated railway tricks without knowing a word +of the language of the country. But I checked the impulsiveness of +Harris, and pointed out to him the great and good work at which the man +was unconsciously assisting. + +Shakespeare and Milton may have done their little best to spread +acquaintance with the English tongue among the less favoured inhabitants +of Europe. Newton and Darwin may have rendered their language a +necessity among educated and thoughtful foreigners. Dickens and Ouida +(for your folk who imagine that the literary world is bounded by the +prejudices of New Grub Street, would be surprised and grieved at the +position occupied abroad by this at-home-sneered-at lady) may have helped +still further to popularise it. But the man who has spread the knowledge +of English from Cape St. Vincent to the Ural Mountains is the Englishman +who, unable or unwilling to learn a single word of any language but his +own, travels purse in hand into every corner of the Continent. One may +be shocked at his ignorance, annoyed at his stupidity, angry at his +presumption. But the practical fact remains; he it is that is +anglicising Europe. For him the Swiss peasant tramps through the snow on +winter evenings to attend the English class open in every village. For +him the coachman and the guard, the chambermaid and the laundress, pore +over their English grammars and colloquial phrase books. For him the +foreign shopkeeper and merchant send their sons and daughters in their +thousands to study in every English town. For him it is that every +foreign hotel- and restaurant-keeper adds to his advertisement: "Only +those with fair knowledge of English need apply." + +Did the English-speaking races make it their rule to speak anything else +than English, the marvellous progress of the English tongue throughout +the world would stop. The English-speaking man stands amid the strangers +and jingles his gold. + +"Here," cries, "is payment for all such as can speak English." + +He it is who is the great educator. Theoretically we may scold him; +practically we should take our hats off to him. He is the missionary of +the English tongue. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +We are grieved at the earthly instincts of the German--A superb view, but +no restaurant--Continental opinion of the Englishman--That he does not +know enough to come in out of the rain--There comes a weary traveller +with a brick--The hurting of the dog--An undesirable family residence--A +fruitful region--A merry old soul comes up the hill--George, alarmed at +the lateness of the hour, hastens down the other side--Harris follows +him, to show him the way--I hate being alone, and follow +Harris--Pronunciation specially designed for use of foreigners. + +A thing that vexes much the high-class Anglo-Saxon soul is the earthly +instinct prompting the German to fix a restaurant at the goal of every +excursion. On mountain summit, in fairy glen, on lonely pass, by +waterfall or winding stream, stands ever the busy Wirtschaft. How can +one rhapsodise over a view when surrounded by beer-stained tables? How +lose one's self in historical reverie amid the odour of roast veal and +spinach? + +One day, on elevating thoughts intent, we climbed through tangled woods. + +"And at the top," said Harris, bitterly, as we paused to breathe a space +and pull our belts a hole tighter, "there will be a gaudy restaurant, +where people will be guzzling beefsteaks and plum tarts and drinking +white wine." + +"Do you think so?" said George. + +"Sure to be," answered Harris; "you know their way. Not one grove will +they consent to dedicate to solitude and contemplation; not one height +will they leave to the lover of nature unpolluted by the gross and the +material." + +"I calculate," I remarked, "that we shall be there a little before one +o'clock, provided we don't dawdle." + +"The 'mittagstisch' will be just ready," groaned Harris, "with possibly +some of those little blue trout they catch about here. In Germany one +never seems able to get away from food and drink. It is maddening!" + +We pushed on, and in the beauty of the walk forgot our indignation. My +estimate proved to be correct. + +At a quarter to one, said Harris, who was leading: + +"Here we are; I can see the summit." + +"Any sign of that restaurant?" said George. + +"I don't notice it," replied Harris; "but it's there, you may be sure; +confound it!" + +Five minutes later we stood upon the top. We looked north, south, east +and west; then we looked at one another. + +"Grand view, isn't it?" said Harris. + +"Magnificent," I agreed. + +"Superb," remarked George. + +"They have had the good sense for once," said Harris, "to put that +restaurant out of sight." + +"They do seem to have hidden it," said George. + +"One doesn't mind the thing so much when it is not forced under one's +nose," said Harris. + +"Of course, in its place," I observed, "a restaurant is right enough." + +"I should like to know where they have put it," said George. + +"Suppose we look for it?" said Harris, with inspiration. + +It seemed a good idea. I felt curious myself. We agreed to explore in +different directions, returning to the summit to report progress. In +half an hour we stood together once again. There was no need for words. +The face of one and all of us announced plainly that at last we had +discovered a recess of German nature untarnished by the sordid suggestion +of food or drink. + +"I should never have believed it possible," said Harris; "would you?" + +"I should say," I replied, "that this is the only square quarter of a +mile in the entire Fatherland unprovided with one." + +"And we three strangers have struck it," said George, "without an +effort." + +"True," I observed. "By pure good fortune we are now enabled to feast +our finer senses undisturbed by appeal to our lower nature. Observe the +light upon those distant peaks; is it not ravishing?" + +"Talking of nature," said George, "which should you say was the nearest +way down?" + +"The road to the left," I replied, after consulting the guide book, +"takes us to Sonnensteig--where, by-the-by, I observe the 'Goldener +Adler' is well spoken of--in about two hours. The road to the right, +though somewhat longer, commands more extensive prospects." + +"One prospect," said Harris, "is very much like another prospect; don't +you think so?" + +"Personally," said George, "I am going by the left-hand road." And +Harris and I went after him. + +But we were not to get down so soon as we had anticipated. Storms come +quickly in these regions, and before we had walked for quarter of an hour +it became a question of seeking shelter or living for the rest of the day +in soaked clothes. We decided on the former alternative, and selected a +tree that, under ordinary circumstances, should have been ample +protection. But a Black Forest thunderstorm is not an ordinary +circumstance. We consoled ourselves at first by telling each other that +at such a rate it could not last long. Next, we endeavoured to comfort +ourselves with the reflection that if it did we should soon be too wet to +fear getting wetter. + +"As it turned out," said Harris, "I should have been almost glad if there +had been a restaurant up here." + +"I see no advantage in being both wet _and_ hungry," said George. "I +shall give it another five minutes, then I am going on." + +"These mountain solitudes," I remarked, "are very attractive in fine +weather. On a rainy day, especially if you happen to be past the age +when--" + +At this point there hailed us a voice, proceeding from a stout gentleman, +who stood some fifty feet away from us under a big umbrella. + +"Won't you come inside?" asked the stout gentleman. + +"Inside where?" I called back. I thought at first he was one of those +fools that will try to be funny when there is nothing to be funny about. + +"Inside the restaurant," he answered. + +We left our shelter and made for him. We wished for further information +about this thing. + +"I did call to you from the window," said the stout gentleman, as we drew +near to him, "but I suppose you did not hear me. This storm may last for +another hour; you will get _so_ wet." + +He was a kindly old gentleman; he seemed quite anxious about us. + +I said: "It is very kind of you to have come out. We are not lunatics. +We have not been standing under that tree for the last half-hour knowing +all the time there was a restaurant, hidden by the trees, within twenty +yards of us. We had no idea we were anywhere near a restaurant." + +"I thought maybe you hadn't," said the old gentleman; "that is why I +came." + +It appeared that all the people in the inn had been watching us from the +windows also, wondering why we stood there looking miserable. If it had +not been for this nice old gentleman the fools would have remained +watching us, I suppose, for the rest of the afternoon. The landlord +excused himself by saying he thought we looked like English. It is no +figure of speech. On the Continent they do sincerely believe that every +Englishman is mad. They are as convinced of it as is every English +peasant that Frenchmen live on frogs. Even when one makes a direct +personal effort to disabuse them of the impression one is not always +successful. + +It was a comfortable little restaurant, where they cooked well, while the +Tischwein was really most passable. We stopped there for a couple of +hours, and dried ourselves and fed ourselves, and talked about the view; +and just before we left an incident occurred that shows how much more +stirring in this world are the influences of evil compared with those of +good. + +A traveller entered. He seemed a careworn man. He carried a brick in +his hand, tied to a piece of rope. He entered nervously and hurriedly, +closed the door carefully behind him, saw to it that it was fastened, +peered out of the window long and earnestly, and then, with a sigh of +relief, laid his brick upon the bench beside him and called for food and +drink. + +There was something mysterious about the whole affair. One wondered what +he was going to do with the brick, why he had closed the door so +carefully, why he had looked so anxiously from the window; but his aspect +was too wretched to invite conversation, and we forbore, therefore, to +ask him questions. As he ate and drank he grew more cheerful, sighed +less often. Later he stretched his legs, lit an evil-smelling cigar, and +puffed in calm contentment. + +Then it happened. It happened too suddenly for any detailed explanation +of the thing to be possible. I recollect a Fraulein entering the room +from the kitchen with a pan in her hand. I saw her cross to the outer +door. The next moment the whole room was in an uproar. One was reminded +of those pantomime transformation scenes where, from among floating +clouds, slow music, waving flowers, and reclining fairies, one is +suddenly transported into the midst of shouting policemen tumbling +yelling babies, swells fighting pantaloons, sausages and harlequins, +buttered slides and clowns. As the Fraulein of the pan touched the door +it flew open, as though all the spirits of sin had been pressed against +it, waiting. Two pigs and a chicken rushed into the room; a cat that had +been sleeping on a beer-barrel spluttered into fiery life. The Fraulein +threw her pan into the air and lay down on the floor. The gentleman with +the brick sprang to his feet, upsetting the table before him with +everything upon it. + +One looked to see the cause of this disaster: one discovered it at once +in the person of a mongrel terrier with pointed ears and a squirrel's +tail. The landlord rushed out from another door, and attempted to kick +him out of the room. Instead, he kicked one of the pigs, the fatter of +the two. It was a vigorous, well-planted kick, and the pig got the whole +of it; none of it was wasted. One felt sorry for the poor animal; but no +amount of sorrow anyone else might feel for him could compare with the +sorrow he felt for himself. He stopped running about; he sat down in the +middle of the room, and appealed to the solar system generally to observe +this unjust thing that had come upon him. They must have heard his +complaint in the valleys round about, and have wondered what upheaval of +nature was taking place among the hills. + +As for the hen it scuttled, screaming, every way at once. It was a +marvellous bird: it seemed to be able to run up a straight wall quite +easily; and it and the cat between them fetched down mostly everything +that was not already on the floor. In less than forty seconds there were +nine people in that room, all trying to kick one dog. Possibly, now and +again, one or another may have succeeded, for occasionally the dog would +stop barking in order to howl. But it did not discourage him. Everything +has to be paid for, he evidently argued, even a pig and chicken hunt; +and, on the whole, the game was worth it. + +Besides, he had the satisfaction of observing that, for every kick he +received, most other living things in the room got two. As for the +unfortunate pig--the stationary one, the one that still sat lamenting in +the centre of the room--he must have averaged a steady four. Trying to +kick this dog was like playing football with a ball that was never +there--not when you went to kick it, but after you had started to kick +it, and had gone too far to stop yourself, so that the kick had to go on +in any case, your only hope being that your foot would find something or +another solid to stop it, and so save you from sitting down on the floor +noisily and completely. When anybody did kick the dog it was by pure +accident, when they were not expecting to kick him; and, generally +speaking, this took them so unawares that, after kicking him, they fell +over him. And everybody, every half-minute, would be certain to fall +over the pig the sitting pig, the one incapable of getting out of +anybody's way. + +How long the scrimmage might have lasted it is impossible to say. It was +ended by the judgment of George. For a while he had been seeking to +catch, not the dog but the remaining pig, the one still capable of +activity. Cornering it at last, he persuaded it to cease running round +and round the room, and instead to take a spin outside. It shot through +the door with one long wail. + +We always desire the thing we have not. One pig, a chicken, nine people, +and a cat, were as nothing in that dog's opinion compared with the quarry +that was disappearing. Unwisely, he darted after it, and George closed +the door upon him and shot the bolt. + +Then the landlord stood up, and surveyed all the things that were lying +on the floor. + +"That's a playful dog of yours," said he to the man who had come in with +the brick. + +"He is not my dog," replied the man sullenly. + +"Whose dog is it then?" said the landlord. + +"I don't know whose dog it is," answered the man. + +"That won't do for me, you know," said the landlord, picking up a picture +of the German Emperor, and wiping beer from it with his sleeve. + +"I know it won't," replied the man; "I never expected it would. I'm +tired of telling people it isn't my dog. They none of them believe me." + +"What do you want to go about with him for, if he's not your dog?" said +the landlord. "What's the attraction about him?" + +"I don't go about with him," replied the man; "he goes about with me. He +picked me up this morning at ten o'clock, and he won't leave me. I +thought I had got rid of him when I came in here. I left him busy +killing a duck more than a quarter of an hour away. I'll have to pay for +that, I expect, on my way back." + +"Have you tried throwing stones at him?" asked Harris. + +"Have I tried throwing stones at him!" replied the man, contemptuously. +"I've been throwing stones at him till my arm aches with throwing stones; +and he thinks it's a game, and brings them back to me. I've been +carrying this beastly brick about with me for over an hour, in the hope +of being able to drown him, but he never comes near enough for me to get +hold of him. He just sits six inches out of reach with his mouth open, +and looks at me." + +"It's the funniest story I've heard for a long while," said the landlord. + +"Glad it amuses somebody," said the man. + +We left him helping the landlord to pick up the broken things, and went +our way. A dozen yards outside the door the faithful animal was waiting +for his friend. He looked tired, but contented. He was evidently a dog +of strange and sudden fancies, and we feared for the moment lest he might +take a liking to us. But he let us pass with indifference. His loyalty +to this unresponsive man was touching; and we made no attempt to +undermine it. + +Having completed to our satisfaction the Black Forest, we journeyed on +our wheels through Alt Breisach and Colmar to Munster; whence we started +a short exploration of the Vosges range, where, according to the present +German Emperor, humanity stops. Of old, Alt Breisach, a rocky fortress +with the river now on one side of it and now on the other--for in its +inexperienced youth the Rhine never seems to have been quite sure of its +way,--must, as a place of residence, have appealed exclusively to the +lover of change and excitement. Whoever the war was between, and +whatever it was about, Alt Breisach was bound to be in it. Everybody +besieged it, most people captured it; the majority of them lost it again; +nobody seemed able to keep it. Whom he belonged to, and what he was, the +dweller in Alt Breisach could never have been quite sure. One day he +would be a Frenchman, and then before he could learn enough French to pay +his taxes he would be an Austrian. While trying to discover what you did +in order to be a good Austrian, he would find he was no longer an +Austrian, but a German, though what particular German out of the dozen +must always have been doubtful to him. One day he would discover that he +was a Catholic, the next an ardent Protestant. The only thing that could +have given any stability to his existence must have been the monotonous +necessity of paying heavily for the privilege of being whatever for the +moment he was. But when one begins to think of these things one finds +oneself wondering why anybody in the Middle Ages, except kings and tax +collectors, ever took the trouble to live at all. + +For variety and beauty, the Vosges will not compare with the hills of the +Schwarzwald. The advantage about them from the tourist's point of view +is their superior poverty. The Vosges peasant has not the unromantic air +of contented prosperity that spoils his _vis-a-vis_ across the Rhine. The +villages and farms possess more the charm of decay. Another point +wherein the Vosges district excels is its ruins. Many of its numerous +castles are perched where you might think only eagles would care to +build. In others, commenced by the Romans and finished by the +Troubadours, covering acres with the maze of their still standing walls, +one may wander for hours. + +The fruiterer and greengrocer is a person unknown in the Vosges. Most +things of that kind grow wild, and are to be had for the picking. It is +difficult to keep to any programme when walking through the Vosges, the +temptation on a hot day to stop and eat fruit generally being too strong +for resistance. Raspberries, the most delicious I have ever tasted, wild +strawberries, currants, and gooseberries, grow upon the hill-sides as +black-berries by English lanes. The Vosges small boy is not called upon +to rob an orchard; he can make himself ill without sin. Orchards exist +in the Vosges mountains in plenty; but to trespass into one for the +purpose of stealing fruit would be as foolish as for a fish to try and +get into a swimming bath without paying. Still, of course, mistakes do +occur. + +One afternoon in the course of a climb we emerged upon a plateau, where +we lingered perhaps too long, eating more fruit than may have been good +for us; it was so plentiful around us, so varied. We commenced with a +few late strawberries, and from those we passed to raspberries. Then +Harris found a greengage-tree with some early fruit upon it, just +perfect. + +"This is about the best thing we have struck," said George; "we had +better make the most of this." Which was good advice, on the face of it. + +"It is a pity," said Harris, "that the pears are still so hard." + +He grieved about this for a while, but later on came across some +remarkably fine yellow plums and these consoled him somewhat. + +"I suppose we are still a bit too far north for pineapples," said George. +"I feel I could just enjoy a fresh pineapple. This commonplace fruit +palls upon one after a while." + +"Too much bush fruit and not enough tree, is the fault I find," said +Harris. "Myself, I should have liked a few more greengages." + +"Here is a man coming up the hill," I observed, "who looks like a native. +Maybe, he will know where we can find some more greengages." + +"He walks well for an old chap," remarked Harris. + +He certainly was climbing the hill at a remarkable pace. Also, so far as +we were able to judge at that distance, he appeared to be in a remarkably +cheerful mood, singing and shouting at the top of his voice, +gesticulating, and waving his arms. + +"What a merry old soul it is," said Harris; "it does one good to watch +him. But why does he carry his stick over his shoulder? Why doesn't he +use it to help him up the hill?" + +"Do you know, I don't think it is a stick," said George. + +"What can it be, then?" asked Harris. + +"Well, it looks to me," said George, "more like a gun." + +"You don't think we can have made a mistake?" suggested Harris. "You +don't think this can be anything in the nature of a private orchard?" + +I said: "Do you remember the sad thing that happened in the South of +France some two years ago? A soldier picked some cherries as he passed a +house, and the French peasant to whom the cherries belonged came out, and +without a word of warning shot him dead." + +"But surely you are not allowed to shoot a man dead for picking fruit, +even in France?" said George. + +"Of course not," I answered. "It was quite illegal. The only excuse +offered by his counsel was that he was of a highly excitable disposition, +and especially keen about these particular cherries." + +"I recollect something about the case," said Harris, "now you mention it. +I believe the district in which it happened--the 'Commune,' as I think it +is called--had to pay heavy compensation to the relatives of the deceased +soldier; which was only fair." + +George said: "I am tired of this place. Besides, it's getting late." + +Harris said: "If he goes at that rate he will fall and hurt himself. +Besides, I don't believe he knows the way." + +I felt lonesome up there all by myself, with nobody to speak to. Besides, +not since I was a boy, I reflected, had I enjoyed a run down a really +steep hill. I thought I would see if I could revive the sensation. It +is a jerky exercise, but good, I should say, for the liver. + +We slept that night at Barr, a pleasant little town on the way to St. +Ottilienberg, an interesting old convent among the mountains, where you +are waited upon by real nuns, and your bill made out by a priest. At +Barr, just before supper a tourist entered. He looked English, but spoke +a language the like of which I have never heard before. Yet it was an +elegant and fine-sounding language. The landlord stared at him blankly; +the landlady shook her head. He sighed, and tried another, which somehow +recalled to me forgotten memories, though, at the time, I could not fix +it. But again nobody understood him. + +"This is damnable," he said aloud to himself. + +"Ah, you are English!" exclaimed the landlord, brightening up. + +"And Monsieur looks tired," added the bright little landlady. "Monsieur +will have supper." + +They both spoke English excellently, nearly as well as they spoke French +and German; and they bustled about and made him comfortable. At supper +he sat next to me, and I talked to him. + +"Tell me," I said--I was curious on the subject--"what language was it +you spoke when you first came in?" + +"German," he explained. + +"Oh," I replied, "I beg your pardon." + +"You did not understand it?" he continued. + +"It must have been my fault," I answered; "my knowledge is extremely +limited. One picks up a little here and there as one goes about, but of +course that is a different thing." + +"But _they_ did not understand it," he replied, "the landlord and his +wife; and it is their own language." + +"I do not think so," I said. "The children hereabout speak German, it is +true, and our landlord and landlady know German to a certain point. But +throughout Alsace and Lorraine the old people still talk French." + +"And I spoke to them in French also," he added, "and they understood that +no better." + +"It is certainly very curious," I agreed. + +"It is more than curious," he replied; "in my case it is +incomprehensible. I possess a diploma for modern languages. I won my +scholarship purely on the strength of my French and German. The +correctness of my construction, the purity of my pronunciation, was +considered at my college to be quite remarkable. Yet, when I come abroad +hardly anybody understands a word I say. Can you explain it?" + +"I think I can," I replied. "Your pronunciation is too faultless. You +remember what the Scotsman said when for the first time in his life he +tasted real whisky: 'It may be puir, but I canna drink it'; so it is with +your German. It strikes one less as a language than as an exhibition. If +I might offer advice, I should say: Mispronounce as much as possible, and +throw in as many mistakes as you can think of." + +It is the same everywhere. Each country keeps a special pronunciation +exclusively for the use of foreigners--a pronunciation they never dream +of using themselves, that they cannot understand when it is used. I once +heard an English lady explaining to a Frenchman how to pronounce the word +Have. + +"You will pronounce it," said the lady reproachfully, "as if it were +spelt H-a-v. It isn't. There is an 'e' at the end." + +"But I thought," said the pupil, "that you did not sound the 'e' at the +end of h-a-v-e." + +"No more you do," explained his teacher. "It is what we call a mute 'e'; +but it exercises a modifying influence on the preceding vowel." + +Before that, he used to say "have" quite intelligently. Afterwards, when +he came to the word he would stop dead, collect his thoughts, and give +expression to a sound that only the context could explain. + +Putting aside the sufferings of the early martyrs, few men, I suppose, +have gone through more than I myself went through in trying to I attain +the correct pronunciation of the German word for church--"Kirche." Long +before I had done with it I had determined never to go to church in +Germany, rather than be bothered with it. + +"No, no," my teacher would explain--he was a painstaking gentleman; "you +say it as if it were spelt K-i-r-c-h-k-e. There is no k. It is--." And +he would illustrate to me again, for the twentieth time that morning, how +it should be pronounced; the sad thing being that I could never for the +life of me detect any difference between the way he said it and the way I +said it. So he would try a new method. + +"You say it from your throat," he would explain. He was quite right; I +did. "I want you to say it from down here," and with a fat forefinger he +would indicate the region from where I was to start. After painful +efforts, resulting in sounds suggestive of anything rather than a place +of worship, I would excuse myself. + +"I really fear it is impossible," I would say. "You see, for years I +have always talked with my mouth, as it were; I never knew a man could +talk with his stomach. I doubt if it is not too late now for me to +learn." + +By spending hours in dark corners, and practising in silent streets, to +the terror of chance passers-by, I came at last to pronounce this word +correctly. My teacher was delighted with me, and until I came to Germany +I was pleased with myself. In Germany I found that nobody understood +what I meant by it. I never got near a church with it. I had to drop +the correct pronunciation, and painstakingly go back to my first wrong +pronunciation. Then they would brighten up, and tell me it was round the +corner, or down the next street, as the case might be. + +I also think pronunciation of a foreign tongue could be better taught +than by demanding from the pupil those internal acrobatic feats that are +generally impossible and always useless. This is the sort of instruction +one receives: + +"Press your tonsils against the underside of your larynx. Then with the +convex part of the septum curved upwards so as almost--but not quite--to +touch the uvula, try with the tip of your tongue to reach your thyroid. +Take a deep breath, and compress your glottis. Now, without opening your +lips, say 'Garoo.'" + +And when you have done it they are not satisfied. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +An examination into the character and behaviour of the German student--The +German Mensur--Uses and abuses of use--Views of an impressionist--The +humour of the thing--Recipe for making savages--The Jungfrau: her +peculiar taste in laces--The Kneipe--How to rub a Salamander--Advice to +the stranger--A story that might have ended sadly--Of two men and two +wives--Together with a bachelor. + +On our way home we included a German University town, being wishful to +obtain an insight into the ways of student life, a curiosity that the +courtesy of German friends enabled us to gratify. + +The English boy plays till he is fifteen, and works thence till twenty. +In Germany it is the child that works; the young man that plays. The +German boy goes to school at seven o'clock in the summer, at eight in the +winter, and at school he studies. The result is that at sixteen he has a +thorough knowledge of the classics and mathematics, knows as much history +as any man compelled to belong to a political party is wise in knowing, +together with a thorough grounding in modern languages. Therefore his +eight College Semesters, extending over four years, are, except for the +young man aiming at a professorship, unnecessarily ample. He is not a +sportsman, which is a pity, for he should make good one. He plays +football a little, bicycles still less; plays French billiards in stuffy +cafes more. But generally speaking he, or the majority of him, lays out +his time bummeling, beer drinking, and fighting. If he be the son of a +wealthy father he joins a Korps--to belong to a crack Korps costs about +four hundred pounds a year. If he be a middle-class young man, he enrols +himself in a Burschenschaft, or a Landsmannschaft, which is a little +cheaper. These companies are again broken up into smaller circles, in +which attempt is made to keep to nationality. There are the Swabians, +from Swabia; the Frankonians, descendants of the Franks; the Thuringians, +and so forth. In practice, of course, this results as all such attempts +do result--I believe half our Gordon Highlanders are Cockneys--but the +picturesque object is obtained of dividing each University into some +dozen or so separate companies of students, each one with its distinctive +cap and colours, and, quite as important, its own particular beer hall, +into which no other student wearing his colours may come. + +The chief work of these student companies is to fight among themselves, +or with some rival Korps or Schaft, the celebrated German Mensur. + +The Mensur has been described so often and so thoroughly that I do not +intend to bore my readers with any detailed account of it. I merely come +forward as an impressionist, and I write purposely the impression of my +first Mensur, because I believe that first impressions are more true and +useful than opinions blunted by intercourse, or shaped by influence. + +A Frenchman or a Spaniard will seek to persuade you that the bull-ring is +an institution got up chiefly for the benefit of the bull. The horse +which you imagined to be screaming with pain was only laughing at the +comical appearance presented by its own inside. Your French or Spanish +friend contrasts its glorious and exciting death in the ring with the +cold-blooded brutality of the knacker's yard. If you do not keep a tight +hold of your head, you come away with the desire to start an agitation +for the inception of the bull-ring in England as an aid to chivalry. No +doubt Torquemada was convinced of the humanity of the Inquisition. To a +stout gentleman, suffering, perhaps, from cramp or rheumatism, an hour or +so on the rack was really a physical benefit. He would rise feeling more +free in his joints--more elastic, as one might say, than he had felt for +years. English huntsmen regard the fox as an animal to be envied. A +day's excellent sport is provided for him free of charge, during which he +is the centre of attraction. + +Use blinds one to everything one does not wish to see. Every third +German gentleman you meet in the street still bears, and will bear to his +grave, marks of the twenty to a hundred duels he has fought in his +student days. The German children play at the Mensur in the nursery, +rehearse it in the gymnasium. The Germans have come to persuade +themselves there is no brutality in it--nothing offensive, nothing +degrading. Their argument is that it schools the German youth to +coolness and courage. If this could be proved, the argument, +particularly in a country where every man is a soldier, would be +sufficiently one-sided. But is the virtue of the prize-fighter the +virtue of the soldier? One doubts it. Nerve and dash are surely of more +service in the field than a temperament of unreasoning indifference as to +what is happening to one. As a matter of fact, the German student would +have to be possessed of much more courage not to fight. He fights not to +please himself, but to satisfy a public opinion that is two hundred years +behind the times. + +All the Mensur does is to brutalise him. There may be skill displayed--I +am told there is,--but it is not apparent. The mere fighting is like +nothing so much as a broadsword combat at a Richardson's show; the +display as a whole a successful attempt to combine the ludicrous with the +unpleasant. In aristocratic Bonn, where style is considered, and in +Heidelberg, where visitors from other nations are more common, the affair +is perhaps more formal. I am told that there the contests take place in +handsome rooms; that grey-haired doctors wait upon the wounded, and +liveried servants upon the hungry, and that the affair is conducted +throughout with a certain amount of picturesque ceremony. In the more +essentially German Universities, where strangers are rare and not much +encouraged, the simple essentials are the only things kept in view, and +these are not of an inviting nature. + +Indeed, so distinctly uninviting are they, that I strongly advise the +sensitive reader to avoid even this description of them. The subject +cannot be made pretty, and I do not intend to try. + +The room is bare and sordid; its walls splashed with mixed stains of +beer, blood, and candle-grease; its ceiling, smoky; its floor, sawdust +covered. A crowd of students, laughing, smoking, talking, some sitting +on the floor, others perched upon chairs and benches form the framework. + +In the centre, facing one another, stand the combatants, resembling +Japanese warriors, as made familiar to us by the Japanese tea-tray. +Quaint and rigid, with their goggle-covered eyes, their necks tied up in +comforters, their bodies smothered in what looks like dirty bed quilts, +their padded arms stretched straight above their heads, they might be a +pair of ungainly clockwork figures. The seconds, also more or less +padded--their heads and faces protected by huge leather-peaked caps,--drag +them out into their proper position. One almost listens to hear the +sound of the castors. The umpire takes his place, the word is given, and +immediately there follow five rapid clashes of the long straight swords. +There is no interest in watching the fight: there is no movement, no +skill, no grace. (I am speaking of my own impressions.) The strongest man +wins; the man who, with his heavily-padded arm, always in an unnatural +position, can hold his huge clumsy sword longest without growing too weak +to be able either to guard or to strike. + +The whole interest is centred in watching the wounds. They come always +in one of two places--on the top of the head or the left side of the +face. Sometimes a portion of hairy scalp or section of cheek flies up +into the air, to be carefully preserved in an envelope by its proud +possessor, or, strictly speaking, its proud former possessor, and shown +round on convivial evenings; and from every wound, of course, flows a +plentiful stream of blood. It splashes doctors, seconds, and spectators; +it sprinkles ceiling and walls; it saturates the fighters, and makes +pools for itself in the sawdust. At the end of each round the doctors +rush up, and with hands already dripping with blood press together the +gaping wounds, dabbing them with little balls of wet cotton wool, which +an attendant carries ready on a plate. Naturally, the moment the men +stand up again and commence work, the blood gushes out again, half +blinding them, and rendering the ground beneath them slippery. Now and +then you see a man's teeth laid bare almost to the ear, so that for the +rest of the duel he appears to be grinning at one half of the spectators, +his other side, remaining serious; and sometimes a man's nose gets slit, +which gives to him as he fights a singularly supercilious air. + +As the object of each student is to go away from the University bearing +as many scars as possible, I doubt if any particular pains are taken to +guard, even to the small extent such method of fighting can allow. The +real victor is he who comes out with the greatest number of wounds; he +who then, stitched and patched almost to unrecognition as a human being, +can promenade for the next month, the envy of the German youth, the +admiration of the German maiden. He who obtains only a few unimportant +wounds retires sulky and disappointed. + +But the actual fighting is only the beginning of the fun. The second act +of the spectacle takes place in the dressing-room. The doctors are +generally mere medical students--young fellows who, having taken their +degree, are anxious for practice. Truth compels me to say that those +with whom I came in contact were coarse-looking men who seemed rather to +relish their work. Perhaps they are not to be blamed for this. It is +part of the system that as much further punishment as possible must be +inflicted by the doctor, and the ideal medical man might hardly care for +such job. How the student bears the dressing of his wounds is as +important as how he receives them. Every operation has to be performed +as brutally as may be, and his companions carefully watch him during the +process to see that he goes through it with an appearance of peace and +enjoyment. A clean-cut wound that gapes wide is most desired by all +parties. On purpose it is sewn up clumsily, with the hope that by this +means the scar will last a lifetime. Such a wound, judiciously mauled +and interfered with during the week afterwards, can generally be reckoned +on to secure its fortunate possessor a wife with a dowry of five figures +at the least. + +These are the general bi-weekly Mensurs, of which the average student +fights some dozen a year. There are others to which visitors are not +admitted. When a student is considered to have disgraced himself by some +slight involuntary movement of the head or body while fighting, then he +can only regain his position by standing up to the best swordsman in his +Korps. He demands and is accorded, not a contest, but a punishment. His +opponent then proceeds to inflict as many and as bloody wounds as can be +taken. The object of the victim is to show his comrades that he can +stand still while his head is half sliced from his skull. + +Whether anything can properly be said in favour of the German Mensur I am +doubtful; but if so it concerns only the two combatants. Upon the +spectators it can and does, I am convinced, exercise nothing but evil. I +know myself sufficiently well to be sure I am not of an unusually +bloodthirsty disposition. The effect it had upon me can only be the +usual effect. At first, before the actual work commenced, my sensation +was curiosity mingled with anxiety as to how the sight would trouble me, +though some slight acquaintance with dissecting-rooms and operating +tables left me less doubt on that point than I might otherwise have felt. +As the blood began to flow, and nerves and muscles to be laid bare, I +experienced a mingling of disgust and pity. But with the second duel, I +must confess, my finer feelings began to disappear; and by the time the +third was well upon its way, and the room heavy with the curious hot +odour of blood, I began, as the American expression is, to see things +red. + +I wanted more. I looked from face to face surrounding me, and in most of +them I found reflected undoubtedly my own sensations. If it be a good +thing to excite this blood thirst in the modern man, then the Mensur is a +useful institution. But is it a good thing? We prate about our +civilisation and humanity, but those of us who do not carry hypocrisy to +the length of self-deception know that underneath our starched shirts +there lurks the savage, with all his savage instincts untouched. +Occasionally he may be wanted, but we never need fear his dying out. On +the other hand, it seems unwise to over-nourish him. + +In favour of the duel, seriously considered, there are many points to be +urged. But the Mensur serves no good purpose whatever. It is +childishness, and the fact of its being a cruel and brutal game makes it +none the less childish. Wounds have no intrinsic value of their own; it +is the cause that dignifies them, not their size. William Tell is +rightly one of the heroes of the world; but what should we think of the +members of a club of fathers, formed with the object of meeting twice a +week to shoot apples from their sons' heads with cross-bows? These young +German gentlemen could obtain all the results of which they are so proud +by teasing a wild cat! To join a society for the mere purpose of getting +yourself hacked about reduces a man to the intellectual level of a +dancing Dervish. Travellers tell us of savages in Central Africa who +express their feelings on festive occasions by jumping about and slashing +themselves. But there is no need for Europe to imitate them. The Mensur +is, in fact, the _reductio ad absurdum_ of the duel; and if the Germans +themselves cannot see that it is funny, one can only regret their lack of +humour. + +But though one may be unable to agree with the public opinion that +supports and commands the Mensur, it at least is possible to understand. +The University code that, if it does not encourage it, at least condones +drunkenness, is more difficult to treat argumentatively. All German +students do not get drunk; in fact, the majority are sober, if not +industrious. But the minority, whose claim to be representative is +freely admitted, are only saved from perpetual inebriety by ability, +acquired at some cost, to swill half the day and all the night, while +retaining to some extent their five senses. It does not affect all +alike, but it is common in any University town to see a young man not yet +twenty with the figure of a Falstaff and the complexion of a Rubens +Bacchus. That the German maiden can be fascinated with a face, cut and +gashed till it suggests having been made out of odd materials that never +could have fitted, is a proved fact. But surely there can be no +attraction about a blotched and bloated skin and a "bay window" thrown +out to an extent threatening to overbalance the whole structure. Yet +what else can be expected, when the youngster starts his beer-drinking +with a "Fruhschoppen" at 10 a.m., and closes it with a "Kneipe" at four +in the morning? + +The Kneipe is what we should call a stag party, and can be very harmless +or very rowdy, according to its composition. One man invites his fellow- +students, a dozen or a hundred, to a cafe, and provides them with as much +beer and as many cheap cigars as their own sense of health and comfort +may dictate, or the host may be the Korps itself. Here, as everywhere, +you observe the German sense of discipline and order. As each new comer +enters all those sitting round the table rise, and with heels close +together salute. When the table is complete, a chairman is chosen, whose +duty it is to give out the number of the songs. Printed books of these +songs, one to each two men, lie round the table. The chairman gives out +number twenty-nine. "First verse," he cries, and away all go, each two +men holding a book between them exactly as two people might hold a hymn- +book in church. There is a pause at the end of each verse until the +chairman starts the company on the next. As every German is a trained +singer, and as most of them have fair voices, the general effect is +striking. + +Although the manner may be suggestive of the singing of hymns in church, +the words of the songs are occasionally such as to correct this +impression. But whether it be a patriotic song, a sentimental ballad, or +a ditty of a nature that would shock the average young Englishman, all +are sung through with stern earnestness, without a laugh, without a false +note. At the end, the chairman calls "Prosit!" Everyone answers +"Prosit!" and the next moment every glass is empty. The pianist rises +and bows, and is bowed to in return; and then the Fraulein enters to +refill the glasses. + +Between the songs, toasts are proposed and responded to; but there is +little cheering, and less laughter. Smiles and grave nods of approval +are considered as more seeming among German students. + +A particular toast, called a Salamander, accorded to some guest as a +special distinction, is drunk with exceptional solemnity. + +"We will now," says the chairman, "a Salamander rub" ("Einen Salamander +reiben"). We all rise, and stand like a regiment at attention. + +"Is the stuff prepared?" ("Sind die stoffe parat?") demands the +chairman. + +"Sunt," we answer, with one voice. + +"Ad exercitium Salamandri," says the chairman, and we are ready. + +"Eins!" We rub our glasses with a circular motion on the table. + +"Zwei!" Again the glasses growl; also at "Drei!" + +"Drink!" ("Bibite!") + +And with mechanical unison every glass is emptied and held on high. + +"Eins!" says the chairman. The foot of every empty glass twirls upon the +table, producing a sound as of the dragging back of a stony beach by a +receding wave. + +"Zwei!" The roll swells and sinks again. + +"Drei!" The glasses strike the table with a single crash, and we are in +our seats again. + +The sport at the Kneipe is for two students to insult each other (in +play, of course), and to then challenge each other to a drinking duel. An +umpire is appointed, two huge glasses are filled, and the men sit +opposite each other with their hands upon the handles, all eyes fixed +upon them. The umpire gives the word to go, and in an instant the beer +is gurgling down their throats. The man who bangs his perfectly finished +glass upon the table first is victor. + +Strangers who are going through a Kneipe, and who wish to do the thing in +German style, will do well, before commencing proceedings, to pin their +name and address upon their coats. The German student is courtesy +itself, and whatever his own state may be, he will see to it that, by +some means or another, his guest gets safely home before the morning. +But, of course, he cannot be expected to remember addresses. + +A story was told me of three guests to a Berlin Kneipe which might have +had tragic results. The strangers determined to do the thing thoroughly. +They explained their intention, and were applauded, and each proceeded to +write his address upon his card, and pin it to the tablecloth in front of +him. That was the mistake they made. They should, as I have advised, +have pinned it carefully to their coats. A man may change his place at a +table, quite unconsciously he may come out the other side of it; but +wherever he goes he takes his coat with him. + +Some time in the small hours, the chairman suggested that to make things +more comfortable for those still upright, all the gentlemen unable to +keep their heads off the table should be sent home. Among those to whom +the proceedings had become uninteresting were the three Englishmen. It +was decided to put them into a cab in charge of a comparatively speaking +sober student, and return them. Had they retained their original seats +throughout the evening all would have been well; but, unfortunately, they +had gone walking about, and which gentleman belonged to which card nobody +knew--least of all the guests themselves. In the then state of general +cheerfulness, this did not to anybody appear to much matter. There were +three gentlemen and three addresses. I suppose the idea was that even if +a mistake were made, the parties could be sorted out in the morning. +Anyhow, the three gentlemen were put into a cab, the comparatively +speaking sober student took the three cards in his hand, and the party +started amid the cheers and good wishes of the company. + +There is this advantage about German beer: it does not make a man drunk +as the word drunk is understood in England. There is nothing +objectionable about him; he is simply tired. He does not want to talk; +he wants to be let alone, to go to sleep; it does not matter +where--anywhere. + +The conductor of the party stopped his cab at the nearest address. He +took out his worst case; it was a natural instinct to get rid of that +first. He and the cabman carried it upstairs, and rang the bell of the +Pension. A sleepy porter answered it. They carried their burden in, and +looked for a place to drop it. A bedroom door happened to be open; the +room was empty; could anything be better?--they took it in there. They +relieved it of such things as came off easily, and laid it in the bed. +This done, both men, pleased with themselves, returned to the cab. + +At the next address they stopped again. This time, in answer to their +summons, a lady appeared, dressed in a tea gown, with a book in her hand. +The German student looked at the top one of two cards remaining in his +hand, and enquired if he had the pleasure of addressing Frau Y. It +happened that he had, though so far as any pleasure was concerned that +appeared to be entirely on his side. He explained to Frau Y. that the +gentleman at that moment asleep against the wall was her husband. The +reunion moved her to no enthusiasm; she simply opened the bedroom door, +and then walked away. The cabman and the student took him in, and laid +him on the bed. They did not trouble to undress him, they were feeling +tired! They did not see the lady of the house again, and retired +therefore without adieus. + +The last card was that of a bachelor stopping at an hotel. They took +their last man, therefore, to that hotel, passed him over to the night +porter, and left him. + +To return to the address at which the first delivery was made, what had +happened there was this. Some eight hours previously had said Mr. X. to +Mrs. X.: "I think I told you, my dear, that I had an invitation for this +evening to what, I believe, is called a Kneipe?" + +"You did mention something of the sort," replied Mrs. X. "What is a +Kneipe?" + +"Well, it's a sort of bachelor party, my dear, where the students meet to +sing and talk and--and smoke, and all that sort of thing, you know." + +"Oh, well, I hope you will enjoy yourself!" said Mrs. X., who was a nice +woman and sensible. + +"It will be interesting," observed Mr. X. "I have often had a curiosity +to see one. I may," continued Mr. X.,--"I mean it is possible, that I +may be home a little late." + +"What do you call late?" asked Mrs. X. + +"It is somewhat difficult to say," returned Mr. X. "You see these +students, they are a wild lot, and when they get together--And then, I +believe, a good many toasts are drunk. I don't know how it will affect +me. If I can see an opportunity I shall come away early, that is if I +can do so without giving offence; but if not--" + +Said Mrs. X., who, as I remarked before, was a sensible woman: "You had +better get the people here to lend you a latchkey. I shall sleep with +Dolly, and then you won't disturb me whatever time it may be." + +"I think that an excellent idea of yours," agreed Mr. X. "I should hate +disturbing you. I shall just come in quietly, and slip into bed." + +Some time in the middle of the night, or maybe towards the early morning, +Dolly, who was Mrs. X.'s sister, sat up in bed and listened. + +"Jenny," said Dolly, "are you awake?" + +"Yes, dear," answered Mrs. X. "It's all right. You go to sleep again." + +"But whatever is it?" asked Dolly. "Do you think it's fire?" + +"I expect," replied Mrs. X., "that it's Percy. Very possibly he has +stumbled over something in the dark. Don't you worry, dear; you go to +sleep." + +But so soon as Dolly had dozed off again, Mrs. X., who was a good wife, +thought she would steal off softly and see to it that Percy was all +right. So, putting on a dressing-gown and slippers, she crept along the +passage and into her own room. To awake the gentleman on the bed would +have required an earthquake. She lit a candle and stole over to the +bedside. + +It was not Percy; it was not anyone like Percy. She felt it was not the +man that ever could have been her husband, under any circumstances. In +his present condition her sentiment towards him was that of positive +dislike. Her only desire was to get rid of him. + +But something there was about him which seemed familiar to her. She went +nearer, and took a closer view. Then she remembered. Surely it was Mr. +Y., a gentleman at whose flat she and Percy had dined the day they first +arrived in Berlin. + +But what was he doing here? She put the candle on the table, and taking +her head between her hands sat down to think. The explanation of the +thing came to her with a rush. It was with this Mr. Y. that Percy had +gone to the Kneipe. A mistake had been made. Mr. Y. had been brought +back to Percy's address. Percy at this very moment-- + +The terrible possibilities of the situation swam before her. Returning +to Dolly's room, she dressed herself hastily, and silently crept +downstairs. Finding, fortunately, a passing night-cab, she drove to the +address of Mrs. Y. Telling the man to wait, she flew upstairs and rang +persistently at the bell. It was opened as before by Mrs. Y., still in +her tea-gown, and with her book still in her hand. + +"Mrs. X.!" exclaimed Mrs. Y. "Whatever brings you here?" + +"My husband!" was all poor Mrs. X. could think to say at the moment, "is +he here?" + +"Mrs. X.," returned Mrs. Y., drawing herself up to her full height, "how +dare you?" + +"Oh, please don't misunderstand me!" pleaded Mrs. X. "It's all a +terrible mistake. They must have brought poor Percy here instead of to +our place, I'm sure they must. Do please look and see." + +"My dear," said Mrs. Y., who was a much older woman, and more motherly, +"don't excite yourself. They brought him here about half an hour ago, +and, to tell you the truth, I never looked at him. He is in here. I +don't think they troubled to take off even his boots. If you keep cool, +we will get him downstairs and home without a soul beyond ourselves being +any the wiser." + +Indeed, Mrs. Y. seemed quite eager to help Mrs. X. + +She pushed open the door, and Mrs. X, went in. The next moment she came +out with a white, scared face. + +"It isn't Percy," she said. "Whatever am I to do?" + +"I wish you wouldn't make these mistakes," said Mrs. Y., moving to enter +the room herself. + +Mrs. X. stopped her. "And it isn't your husband either." + +"Nonsense," said Mrs. Y. + +"It isn't really," persisted Mrs. X. "I know, because I have just left +him, asleep on Percy's bed." + +"What's he doing there?" thundered Mrs. Y. + +"They brought him there, and put him there," explained Mrs. X., beginning +to cry. "That's what made me think Percy must be here." + +The two women stood and looked at one another; and there was silence for +awhile, broken only by the snoring of the gentleman the other side of the +half-open door. + +"Then who is that, in there?" demanded Mrs. Y., who was the first to +recover herself. + +"I don't know," answered Mrs. X., "I have never seen him before. Do you +think it is anybody you know?" + +But Mrs. Y. only banged to the door. + +"What are we to do?" said Mrs. X. + +"I know what _I_ am going to do," said Mrs. Y. "I'm coming back with you +to fetch my husband." + +"He's very sleepy," explained Mrs. X. + +"I've known him to be that before," replied Mrs. Y., as she fastened on +her cloak. + +"But where's Percy?" sobbed poor little Mrs. X., as they descended the +stairs together. + +"That my dear," said Mrs. Y., "will be a question for you to ask _him_." + +"If they go about making mistakes like this," said Mrs. X., "it is +impossible to say what they may not have done with him." + +"We will make enquiries in the morning, my dear," said Mrs. Y., +consolingly. + +"I think these Kneipes are disgraceful affairs," said Mrs. X. "I shall +never let Percy go to another, never--so long as I live." + +"My dear," remarked Mrs. Y., "if you know your duty, he will never want +to." And rumour has it that he never did. + +But, as I have said, the mistake was in pinning the card to the +tablecloth instead of to the coat. And error in this world is always +severely punished. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Which is serious: as becomes a parting chapter--The German from the Anglo- +Saxon's point of view--Providence in buttons and a helmet--Paradise of +the helpless idiot--German conscience: its aggressiveness--How they hang +in Germany, very possibly--What happens to good Germans when they +die?--The military instinct: is it all-sufficient?--The German as a +shopkeeper--How he supports life--The New Woman, here as everywhere--What +can be said against the Germans, as a people--The Bummel is over and +done. + +"Anybody could rule this country," said George; "_I_ could rule it." + +We were seated in the garden of the Kaiser Hof at Bonn, looking down upon +the Rhine. It was the last evening of our Bummel; the early morning +train would be the beginning of the end. + +"I should write down all I wanted the people to do on a piece of paper," +continued George; "get a good firm to print off so many copies, have them +posted about the towns and villages; and the thing would be done." + +In the placid, docile German of to-day, whose only ambition appears to be +to pay his taxes, and do what he is told to do by those whom it has +pleased Providence to place in authority over him, it is difficult, one +must confess, to detect any trace of his wild ancestor, to whom +individual liberty was as the breath of his nostrils; who appointed his +magistrates to advise, but retained the right of execution for the tribe; +who followed his chief, but would have scorned to obey him. In Germany +to-day one hears a good deal concerning Socialism, but it is a Socialism +that would only be despotism under another name. Individualism makes no +appeal to the German voter. He is willing, nay, anxious, to be +controlled and regulated in all things. He disputes, not government, but +the form of it. The policeman is to him a religion, and, one feels, will +always remain so. In England we regard our man in blue as a harmless +necessity. By the average citizen he is employed chiefly as a signpost, +though in busy quarters of the town he is considered useful for taking +old ladies across the road. Beyond feeling thankful to him for these +services, I doubt if we take much thought of him. In Germany, on the +other hand, he is worshipped as a little god and loved as a guardian +angel. To the German child he is a combination of Santa Claus and the +Bogie Man. All good things come from him: Spielplatze to play in, +furnished with swings and giant-strides, sand heaps to fight around, +swimming baths, and fairs. All misbehaviour is punished by him. It is +the hope of every well-meaning German boy and girl to please the police. +To be smiled at by a policeman makes it conceited. A German child that +has been patted on the head by a policeman is not fit to live with; its +self-importance is unbearable. + +The German citizen is a soldier, and the policeman is his officer. The +policeman directs him where in the street to walk, and how fast to walk. +At the end of each bridge stands a policeman to tell the German how to +cross it. Were there no policeman there, he would probably sit down and +wait till the river had passed by. At the railway station the policeman +locks him up in the waiting-room, where he can do no harm to himself. +When the proper time arrives, he fetches him out and hands him over to +the guard of the train, who is only a policeman in another uniform. The +guard tells him where to sit in the train, and when to get out, and sees +that he does get out. In Germany you take no responsibility upon +yourself whatever. Everything is done for you, and done well. You are +not supposed to look after yourself; you are not blamed for being +incapable of looking after yourself; it is the duty of the German +policeman to look after you. That you may be a helpless idiot does not +excuse him should anything happen to you. Wherever you are and whatever +you are doing you are in his charge, and he takes care of you--good care +of you; there is no denying this. + +If you lose yourself, he finds you; and if you lose anything belonging to +you, he recovers it for you. If you don't know what you want, he tells +you. If you want anything that is good for you to have, he gets it for +you. Private lawyers are not needed in Germany. If you want to buy or +sell a house or field, the State makes out the conveyance. If you have +been swindled, the State takes up the case for you. The State marries +you, insures you, will even gamble with you for a trifle. + +"You get yourself born," says the German Government to the German +citizen, "we do the rest. Indoors and out of doors, in sickness and in +health, in pleasure and in work, we will tell you what to do, and we will +see to it that you do it. Don't you worry yourself about anything." + +And the German doesn't. Where there is no policeman to be found, he +wanders about till he comes to a police notice posted on a wall. This he +reads; then he goes and does what it says. + +I remember in one German town--I forget which; it is immaterial; the +incident could have happened in any--noticing an open gate leading to a +garden in which a concert was being given. There was nothing to prevent +anyone who chose from walking through that gate, and thus gaining +admittance to the concert without paying. In fact, of the two gates +quarter of a mile apart it was the more convenient. Yet of the crowds +that passed, not one attempted to enter by that gate. They plodded +steadily on under a blazing sun to the other gate, at which a man stood +to collect the entrance money. I have seen German youngsters stand +longingly by the margin of a lonely sheet of ice. They could have skated +on that ice for hours, and nobody have been the wiser. The crowd and the +police were at the other end, more than half a mile away, and round the +corner. Nothing stopped their going on but the knowledge that they ought +not. Things such as these make one pause to seriously wonder whether the +Teuton be a member of the sinful human family or not. Is it not possible +that these placid, gentle folk may in reality be angels, come down to +earth for the sake of a glass of beer, which, as they must know, can only +in Germany be obtained worth the drinking? + +In Germany the country roads are lined with fruit trees. There is no +voice to stay man or boy from picking and eating the fruit, except +conscience. In England such a state of things would cause public +indignation. Children would die of cholera by the hundred. The medical +profession would be worked off its legs trying to cope with the natural +results of over-indulgence in sour apples and unripe walnuts. Public +opinion would demand that these fruit trees should be fenced about, and +thus rendered harmless. Fruit growers, to save themselves the expense of +walls and palings, would not be allowed in this manner to spread sickness +and death throughout the community. + +But in Germany a boy will walk for miles down a lonely road, hedged with +fruit trees, to buy a pennyworth of pears in the village at the other +end. To pass these unprotected fruit trees, drooping under their burden +of ripe fruit, strikes the Anglo-Saxon mind as a wicked waste of +opportunity, a flouting of the blessed gifts of Providence. + +I do not know if it be so, but from what I have observed of the German +character I should not be surprised to hear that when a man in Germany is +condemned to death he is given a piece of rope, and told to go and hang +himself. It would save the State much trouble and expense, and I can see +that German criminal taking that piece of rope home with him, reading up +carefully the police instructions, and proceeding to carry them out in +his own back kitchen. + +The Germans are a good people. On the whole, the best people perhaps in +the world; an amiable, unselfish, kindly people. I am positive that the +vast majority of them go to Heaven. Indeed, comparing them with the +other Christian nations of the earth, one is forced to the conclusion +that Heaven will be chiefly of German manufacture. But I cannot +understand how they get there. That the soul of any single individual +German has sufficient initiative to fly up by itself and knock at St. +Peter's door, I cannot believe. My own opinion is that they are taken +there in small companies, and passed in under the charge of a dead +policeman. + +Carlyle said of the Prussians, and it is true of the whole German nation, +that one of their chief virtues was their power of being drilled. Of the +Germans you might say they are a people who will go anywhere, and do +anything, they are told. Drill him for the work and send him out to +Africa or Asia under charge of somebody in uniform, and he is bound to +make an excellent colonist, facing difficulties as he would face the +devil himself, if ordered. But it is not easy to conceive of him as a +pioneer. Left to run himself, one feels he would soon fade away and die, +not from any lack of intelligence, but from sheer want of presumption. + +The German has so long been the soldier of Europe, that the military +instinct has entered into his blood. The military virtues he possesses +in abundance; but he also suffers from the drawbacks of the military +training. It was told me of a German servant, lately released from the +barracks, that he was instructed by his master to deliver a letter to a +certain house, and to wait there for the answer. The hours passed by, +and the man did not return. His master, anxious and surprised, followed. +He found the man where he had been sent, the answer in his hand. He was +waiting for further orders. The story sounds exaggerated, but personally +I can credit it. + +The curious thing is that the same man, who as an individual is as +helpless as a child, becomes, the moment he puts on the uniform, an +intelligent being, capable of responsibility and initiative. The German +can rule others, and be ruled by others, but he cannot rule himself. The +cure would appear to be to train every German for an officer, and then +put him under himself. It is certain he would order himself about with +discretion and judgment, and see to it that he himself obeyed himself +with smartness and precision. + +For the direction of German character into these channels, the schools, +of course, are chiefly responsible. Their everlasting teaching is duty. +It is a fine ideal for any people; but before buckling to it, one would +wish to have a clear understanding as to what this "duty" is. The German +idea of it would appear to be: "blind obedience to everything in +buttons." It is the antithesis of the Anglo-Saxon scheme; but as both +the Anglo-Saxon and the Teuton are prospering, there must be good in both +methods. Hitherto, the German has had the blessed fortune to be +exceptionally well governed; if this continue, it will go well with him. +When his troubles will begin will be when by any chance something goes +wrong with the governing machine. But maybe his method has the advantage +of producing a continuous supply of good governors; it would certainly +seem so. + +As a trader, I am inclined to think the German will, unless his +temperament considerably change, remain always a long way behind his +Anglo-Saxon competitor; and this by reason of his virtues. To him life +is something more important than a mere race for wealth. A country that +closes its banks and post-offices for two hours in the middle of the day, +while it goes home and enjoys a comfortable meal in the bosom of its +family, with, perhaps, forty winks by way of dessert, cannot hope, and +possibly has no wish, to compete with a people that takes its meals +standing, and sleeps with a telephone over its bed. In Germany there is +not, at all events as yet, sufficient distinction between the classes to +make the struggle for position the life and death affair it is in +England. Beyond the landed aristocracy, whose boundaries are +impregnable, grade hardly counts. Frau Professor and Frau +Candlestickmaker meet at the Weekly Kaffee-Klatsch and exchange scandal +on terms of mutual equality. The livery-stable keeper and the doctor +hobnob together at their favourite beer hall. The wealthy master +builder, when he prepares his roomy waggon for an excursion into the +country, invites his foreman and his tailor to join him with their +families. Each brings his share of drink and provisions, and returning +home they sing in chorus the same songs. So long as this state of things +endures, a man is not induced to sacrifice the best years of his life to +win a fortune for his dotage. His tastes, and, more to the point still, +his wife's, remain inexpensive. He likes to see his flat or villa +furnished with much red plush upholstery and a profusion of gilt and +lacquer. But that is his idea; and maybe it is in no worse taste than is +a mixture of bastard Elizabethan with imitation Louis XV, the whole lit +by electric light, and smothered with photographs. Possibly, he will +have his outer walls painted by the local artist: a sanguinary battle, a +good deal interfered with by the front door, taking place below, while +Bismarck, as an angel, flutters vaguely about the bedroom windows. But +for his Old Masters he is quite content to go to the public galleries; +and "the Celebrity at Home" not having as yet taken its place amongst the +institutions of the Fatherland, he is not impelled to waste his money +turning his house into an old curiosity shop. + +The German is a gourmand. There are still English farmers who, while +telling you that farming spells starvation, enjoy their seven solid meals +a day. Once a year there comes a week's feast throughout Russia, during +which many deaths occur from the over-eating of pancakes; but this is a +religious festival, and an exception. Taking him all round, the German +as a trencherman stands pre-eminent among the nations of the earth. He +rises early, and while dressing tosses off a few cups of coffee, together +with half a dozen hot buttered rolls. But it is not until ten o'clock +that he sits down to anything that can properly be called a meal. At one +or half-past takes place his chief dinner. Of this he makes a business, +sitting at it for a couple of hours. At four o'clock he goes to the +cafe, and eats cakes and drinks chocolate. The evening he devotes to +eating generally--not a set meal, or rarely, but a series of snacks,--a +bottle of beer and a Belegete-semmel or two at seven, say; another bottle +of beer and an Aufschnitt at the theatre between the acts; a small bottle +of white wine and a Spiegeleier before going home; then a piece of cheese +or sausage, washed down by more beer, previous to turning in for the +night. + +But he is no gourmet. French cooks and French prices are not the rule at +his restaurant. His beer or his inexpensive native white wine he prefers +to the most costly clarets or champagnes. And, indeed, it is well for +him he does; for one is inclined to think that every time a French grower +sells a bottle of wine to a German hotel- or shop-keeper, Sedan is +rankling in his mind. It is a foolish revenge, seeing that it is not the +German who as a rule drinks it; the punishment falls upon some innocent +travelling Englishman. Maybe, however, the French dealer remembers also +Waterloo, and feels that in any event he scores. + +In Germany expensive entertainments are neither offered nor expected. +Everything throughout the Fatherland is homely and friendly. The German +has no costly sports to pay for, no showy establishment to maintain, no +purse-proud circle to dress for. His chief pleasure, a seat at the opera +or concert, can be had for a few marks; and his wife and daughters walk +there in home-made dresses, with shawls over their heads. Indeed, +throughout the country the absence of all ostentation is to English eyes +quite refreshing. Private carriages are few and far between, and even +the droschke is made use of only when the quicker and cleaner electric +car is not available. + +By such means the German retains his independence. The shopkeeper in +Germany does not fawn upon his customers. I accompanied an English lady +once on a shopping excursion in Munich. She had been accustomed to +shopping in London and New York, and she grumbled at everything the man +showed her. It was not that she was really dissatisfied; this was her +method. She explained that she could get most things cheaper and better +elsewhere; not that she really thought she could, merely she held it good +for the shopkeeper to say this. She told him that his stock lacked +taste--she did not mean to be offensive; as I have explained, it was her +method;--that there was no variety about it; that it was not up to date; +that it was commonplace; that it looked as if it would not wear. He did +not argue with her; he did not contradict her. He put the things back +into their respective boxes, replaced the boxes on their respective +shelves, walked into the little parlour behind the shop, and closed the +door. + +"Isn't he ever coming back?" asked the lady, after a couple of minutes +had elapsed. + +Her tone did not imply a question, so much as an exclamation of mere +impatience. + +"I doubt it," I replied. + +"Why not?" she asked, much astonished. + +"I expect," I answered, "you have bored him. In all probability he is at +this moment behind that door smoking a pipe and reading the paper." + +"What an extraordinary shopkeeper!" said my friend, as she gathered her +parcels together and indignantly walked out. + +"It is their way," I explained. "There are the goods; if you want them, +you can have them. If you do not want them, they would almost rather +that you did not come and talk about them." + +On another occasion I listened in the smoke-room of a German hotel to a +small Englishman telling a tale which, had I been in his place, I should +have kept to myself. + +"It doesn't do," said the little Englishman, "to try and beat a German +down. They don't seem to understand it. I saw a first edition of _The +Robbers_ in a shop in the Georg Platz. I went in and asked the price. It +was a rum old chap behind the counter. He said: 'Twenty-five marks,' and +went on reading. I told him I had seen a better copy only a few days +before for twenty--one talks like that when one is bargaining; it is +understood. He asked me 'Where?' I told him in a shop at Leipsig. He +suggested my returning there and getting it; he did not seem to care +whether I bought the book or whether I didn't. I said: + +"'What's the least you will take for it?' + +"'I have told you once,' he answered; 'twenty-five marks.' He was an +irritable old chap. + +"I said: 'It's not worth it.' + +"'I never said it was, did I?' he snapped. + +"I said: 'I'll give you ten marks for it.' I thought, maybe, he would +end by taking twenty. + +"He rose. I took it he was coming round the counter to get the book out. +Instead, he came straight up to me. He was a biggish sort of man. He +took me by the two shoulders, walked me out into the street, and closed +the door behind me with a bang. I was never more surprised in all my +life." + +"Maybe the book was worth twenty-five marks," I suggested. + +"Of course it was," he replied; "well worth it. But what a notion of +business!" + +If anything change the German character, it will be the German woman. She +herself is changing rapidly--advancing, as we call it. Ten years ago no +German woman caring for her reputation, hoping for a husband, would have +dared to ride a bicycle: to-day they spin about the country in their +thousands. The old folks shake their heads at them; but the young men, I +notice, overtake them and ride beside them. Not long ago it was +considered unwomanly in Germany for a lady to be able to do the outside +edge. Her proper skating attitude was thought to be that of clinging +limpness to some male relative. Now she practises eights in a corner by +herself, until some young man comes along to help her. She plays tennis, +and, from a point of safety, I have even noticed her driving a dog-cart. + +Brilliantly educated she always has been. At eighteen she speaks two or +three languages, and has forgotten more than the average Englishwoman has +ever read. Hitherto, this education has been utterly useless to her. On +marriage she has retired into the kitchen, and made haste to clear her +brain of everything else, in order to leave room for bad cooking. But +suppose it begins to dawn upon her that a woman need not sacrifice her +whole existence to household drudgery any more than a man need make +himself nothing else than a business machine. Suppose she develop an +ambition to take part in the social and national life. Then the +influence of such a partner, healthy in body and therefore vigorous in +mind, is bound to be both lasting and far-reaching. + +For it must be borne in mind that the German man is exceptionally +sentimental, and most easily influenced by his women folk. It is said of +him, he is the best of lovers, the worst of husbands. This has been the +woman's fault. Once married, the German woman has done more than put +romance behind her; she has taken a carpet-beater and driven it out of +the house. As a girl, she never understood dressing; as a wife, she +takes off such clothes even as she had, and proceeds to wrap herself up +in any odd articles she may happen to find about the house; at all +events, this is the impression she produces. The figure that might often +be that of a Juno, the complexion that would sometimes do credit to a +healthy angel, she proceeds of malice and intent to spoil. She sells her +birth-right of admiration and devotion for a mess of sweets. Every +afternoon you may see her at the cafe, loading herself with rich cream- +covered cakes, washed down by copious draughts of chocolate. In a short +time she becomes fat, pasty, placid, and utterly uninteresting. + +When the German woman gives up her afternoon coffee and her evening beer, +takes sufficient exercise to retain her shape, and continues to read +after marriage something else than the cookery-book, the German +Government will find it has a new and unknown force to deal with. And +everywhere throughout Germany one is confronted by unmistakable signs +that the old German Frauen are giving place to the newer Damen. + +Concerning what will then happen one feels curious. For the German +nation is still young, and its maturity is of importance to the world. +They are a good people, a lovable people, who should help much to make +the world better. + +The worst that can be said against them is that they have their failings. +They themselves do not know this; they consider themselves perfect, which +is foolish of them. They even go so far as to think themselves superior +to the Anglo-Saxon: this is incomprehensible. One feels they must be +pretending. + +"They have their points," said George; "but their tobacco is a national +sin. I'm going to bed." + +We rose, and leaning over the low stone parapet, watched the dancing +lights upon the soft, dark river. + +"It has been a pleasant Bummel, on the whole," said Harris; "I shall be +glad to get back, and yet I am sorry it is over, if you understand me." + +"What is a 'Bummel'?" said George. "How would you translate it?" + +"A 'Bummel'," I explained, "I should describe as a journey, long or +short, without an end; the only thing regulating it being the necessity +of getting back within a given time to the point from which one started. +Sometimes it is through busy streets, and sometimes through the fields +and lanes; sometimes we can be spared for a few hours, and sometimes for +a few days. But long or short, but here or there, our thoughts are ever +on the running of the sand. We nod and smile to many as we pass; with +some we stop and talk awhile; and with a few we walk a little way. We +have been much interested, and often a little tired. But on the whole we +have had a pleasant time, and are sorry when 'tis over." + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL ***
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