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In
the morning we took breakfast in the garden, under the
trees, in the delightful German summer fashion. The air was filled with
the fragrance of flowers and wild animals; the living portion of the menagerie
of the "Naturalist Tavern" was all about us. There were great
cages populous with fluttering and chattering foreign birds, and other
great cages and greater wire pens, populous with quadrupeds, both native
and foreign. There were some free creatures, too, and quite sociable ones
they were. White rabbits went loping about the place, and occasionally
came and sniffed at our shoes and shins; a fawn, with a red ribbon on
its neck, walked up and examined us fearlessly; rare breeds of chickens
and doves begged for crumbs, and a poor old tailless raven hopped about
with a humble, shamefaced mein which said, "Please do not notice
my exposure — think how you would feel in my circumstances, and
be charitable." If he was observed too much, he would retire behind
something and stay there until he judged the party's interest had found
another object. I never have seen another dumb creature that was so morbidly
sensitive. Bayard Taylor, who could interpret the dim reasonings of animals,
and understood their moral natures better than most men, would have found
some way to make this poor old chap forget his troubles for a while, but
we have not his kindly art, and so had to leave the raven to his griefs.
After breakfast
we climbed the hill and visited the ancient castle of Hirschhorn,
and the ruined church near it. There were some curious old bas-reliefs
leaning against the inner walls of the church — sculptured lords
of Hirschhorn in complete armor, and ladies of Hirschhorn in the picturesque
court costumes of the Middle Ages. These things are suffering damage and
passing to decay, for the last Hirschhorn has been dead two hundred years,
and there is nobody now who cares to preserve the family relics. In the
chancel was a twisted stone column, and the captain told us a legend about
it, of course, for in the matter of legends he could not seem to restrain
himself; but I do not repeat his tale because there was nothing plausible
about it except that the Hero wrenched this column into its present screw-shape
with his hands — just one single wrench. All the rest of the legend
was doubtful.
But Hirschhorn
is best seen from a distance, down the river. Then the
clustered brown towers perched on the green hilltop, and the old battlemented
stone wall, stretching up and over the grassy ridge and disappearing in
the leafy sea beyond, make a picture whose grace and beauty entirely satisfy
the eye.
We descended from
the church by steep stone stairways which curved this way and that down
narrow alleys between the packed and dirty tenements of the village. It
was a quarter well stocked with deformed, leering, unkempt and uncombed
idiots, who held out hands or caps and begged piteously. The people of
the quarter were not all idiots, of course, but all that begged seemed
to be, and were said to be.
I was thinking
of going by skiff to the next town, Necharsteinach; so I ran to the riverside
in advance of the party and asked a man there if he had a boat to hire.
I suppose I must have spoken High German — Court German —
I intended it for that, anyway — so he did not understand me. I
turned and twisted my question around and about, trying to strike that
man's average, but failed. He could not make out what I wanted. Now Mr.
X arrived, faced this same man, looked him in the eye, and emptied this
sentence on him, in the most glib and confident way: "Can man boat
get here?" |
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breakfast
in the garden
 Illustration:
BREAKFAST IN THE GARDEN.
castle
of Hirschhorn
 Hirschhorn:
Ansicht von Stadt und Burg.
 Hirschhorn
am Neckar.
 Hirschhorn.
(1891)
down
the river
 Neckarfloss
bei Hirschhorn (1894). |
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The
mariner promptly understood and promptly answered.
I can comprehend why he was able to understand that particular sentence,
because by mere accident all the words in it except "get"
have the same sound and the same meaning in German that they have in
English; but how he managed to understand Mr. X's next remark puzzled
me. I will insert it, presently. X turned away a moment, and I asked
the mariner if he could not find a board, and so construct an additional
seat. I spoke in the purest German, but I might as well have spoken
in the purest Choctaw for all the good it did. The man tried his best
to understand me; he tried, and kept on trying, harder and harder, until
I saw it was really of no use, and said:
"There,
don't strain yourself — it is of no consequence."
Then X turned
to him and crisply said:
"Machen
Sie a flat board."
I wish my epitaph
may tell the truth about me if the man did not answer up at once, and
say he would go and borrow a board as soon as he had lit the pipe which
he was filling.
We changed our
mind about taking a boat, so we did not have to go. I have given Mr.
X's two remarks just as he made them. Four of the five words in the
first one were English, and that they were also German was only accidental,
not intentional; three out of the five words in the second remark were
English, and English only, and the two German ones did not mean anything
in particular, in such a connection.
X
always spoke English to Germans, but his plan was to turn the sentence
wrong end first and upside down, according to German construction, and
sprinkle in a German word without any essential meaning to it, here
and there, by way of flavor. Yet he always made himself understood.
He could make those dialect-speaking raftsmen understand him, sometimes,
when even young Z had failed with them; and young Z was a pretty good
German scholar. For one thing, X always spoke with such confidence —
perhaps that helped. And possibly the raftsmen's dialect was what is
called platt-Deutsch, and so they found his English more familiar
to their ears than another man's German. Quite indifferent students
of German can read Fritz Reuter's charming platt-Deutch tales with some
little facility because many of the words are English. I suppose this
is the tongue which our Saxon ancestors carried to England with them.
By and by I will inquire of some other philologist.
However,
in the mean time it had transpired that the men employed to calk the
raft had found that the leak was not a leak at all, but only a crack
between the logs — a crack that belonged there, and was not dangerous,
but had been magnified into a leak by the disordered imagination of
the mate. Therefore we went aboard again with a good degree of confidence,
and presently got to sea without accident. As we swam smoothly along
between the enchanting shores, we fell to swapping notes about manners
and customs in Germany and elsewhere.
As
I write, now, many months later, I perceive that each of us, by observing
and noting and inquiring, diligently and day by day, had managed to
lay in a most varied and opulent stock of misinformation. But this is
not surprising; it is very difficult to get accurate details in any
country. For example, I had the idea once, in Heidelberg, to find out
all about those five student-corps. I started with the White Cap corps.
I began to inquire of this and that and the other citizen, and here
is what I found out:
1.
It is called the Prussian Corps, because none but Prussians are admitted
to it.
2.
It is called the Prussian Corps for no particular reason. It has simply
pleased each corps to name itself after some German state.
3.
It is not named the Prussian Corps at all, but only the White Cap Corps.
4. Any student
can belong to it who is a German by birth.
5. Any student
can belong to it who is European by birth.
6. Any European-born
student can belong to it, except he be a Frenchman.
7. Any student
can belong to it, no matter where he was born.
8. No student
can belong to it who is not of noble blood.
9. No student
can belong to it who cannot show three full generations of noble descent.
10. Nobility
is not a necessary qualification.
11. No moneyless
student can belong to it.
12. Money qualification
is nonsense — such a thing has never been thought of.
I got some of
this information from students themselves — students who did not
belong to the corps.
I finally went
to headquarters — to the White Caps — where I would have
gone in the first place if I had been acquainted. But even at headquarters
I found difficulties; I perceived that there were things about the White
Cap Corps which one member knew and another one didn't. It was natural;
for very few members of any organization know all that can
be known about it. I doubt there is a man or a woman in Heidelberg who
would not answer promptly and confidently three out of every five questions
about the White Cap Corps which a stranger might ask; yet it is a very
safe bet that two of the three answers would be incorrect every time.
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promptly
understood 
 Illustration:
EASILY UNDERSTOOD. |
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There
is one German custom which is universal — the bowing courteously
to strangers when sitting down at table or rising up from it. This bow
startles a stranger out of his self-possession, the first time it occurs,
and he is likely to fall over a chair or something, in his embarrassment,
but it pleases him, nevertheless. One soon learns to expect this bow and
be on the lookout and ready to return it; but to learn to lead off and
make the initial bow one's self is a difficult matter for a diffident
man. One thinks, "If I rise to go, and tender my box, and these ladies
and gentlemen take it into their heads to ignore the custom of their nation,
and not return it, how shall I feel, in case I survive to feel anything."
Therefore he is afraid to venture. He sits out the dinner, and makes the
strangers rise first and originate the bowing. A table d'hote dinner is
a tedious affair for a man who seldom touches anything after the three
first courses; therefore I used to do some pretty dreary waiting because
of my fears. It took me months to assure myself that those fears were
groundless, but I did assure myself at last by experimenting
diligently through my agent. I made Harris get up and bow and leave; invariably
his bow was returned, then I got up and bowed myself and retired.
Thus my education
proceeded easily and comfortably for me, but not for Harris. Three courses
of a table d'hote dinner were enough for me, but Harris preferred thirteen.
Even after I had
acquired full confidence, and no longer needed the agent's help, I sometimes
encountered difficulties. Once at Baden-Baden I nearly lost a train because
I could not be sure that three young ladies opposite me at table were
Germans, since I had not heard them speak; they might be American, they
might be English, it was not safe to venture a bow; but just as I had
got that far with my thought, one of them began a German remark, to my
great relief and gratitude; and before she got out her third word, our
bows had been delivered and graciously returned, and we were off.
There is a friendly
something about the German character which is very winning. When Harris
and I were making a pedestrian tour through the Black Forest, we stopped
at a little country inn for dinner one day; two young ladies and a young
gentleman entered and sat down opposite us. They were pedestrians, too.
Our knapsacks were strapped upon our backs, but they had a sturdy youth
along to carry theirs for them. All parties were hungry, so there was
no talking. By and by the usual bows were exchanged, and we separated.
As we sat at a
late breakfast in the hotel at Allerheiligen, next morning, these young
people and took places near us without observing us; but presently they
saw us and at once bowed and smiled; not ceremoniously, but with the gratified
look of people who have found acquaintances where they were expecting
strangers. Then they spoke of the weather and the roads. We also spoke
of the weather and the roads. Next, they said they had had an enjoyable
walk, notwithstanding the weather. We said that that had been our case,
too. Then they said they had walked thirty English miles the day before,
and asked how many we had walked. I could not lie, so I told Harris to
do it. Harris told them we had made thirty English miles, too. That was
true; we had "made" them, though we had had a little assistance
here and there.
After breakfast
they found us trying to blast some information out of the dumb hotel clerk
about routes, and observing that we were not succeeding pretty well, they
went and got their maps and things, and pointed out and explained our
course so clearly that even a New York detective could have followed it.
And when we started they spoke out a hearty good-by and wished us a pleasant
journey. Perhaps they were more generous with us than they might have
been with native wayfarers because we were a forlorn lot and in a strange
land; I don't know; I only know it was lovely to be treated so. |
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experimenting
 Illustration:
EXPERIMENTING
THROUGH HARRIS. |
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Very
well, I took an American young lady to one of the fine balls in Baden-Baden,
one night, and at the entrance-door upstairs we were
halted by an official — something about Miss Jones's dress was not
according to rule; I don't remember what it was, now; something was wanting
— her back hair, or a shawl, or a fan, or a shovel, or something.
The official was ever so polite, and every so sorry, but the rule was
strict, and he could not let us in. It was very embarrassing, for many
eyes were on us. But now a richly dressed girl stepped out of the ballroom,
inquired into the trouble, and said she could fix it in a moment. She
took Miss Jones to the robing-room, and soon brought her back in regulation
trim, and then we entered the ballroom with this benefactress unchallenged.
Being safe, now,
I began to puzzle through my sincere but ungrammatical thanks, when there
was a sudden mutual recognition — the benefactress and I had met
at Allerheiligen. Two weeks had not altered her good face, and plainly
her heart was in the right place yet, but there was such a difference
between these clothes and the clothes I had seen her in before, when she
was walking thirty miles a day in the Black Forest, that it was quite
natural that I had failed to recognize her sooner. I had on MY other suit,
too, but my German would betray me to a person who had heard it once,
anyway. She brought her brother and sister, and they made our way smooth
for that evening.
Well
— months afterward, I was driving through the streets of Munich
in a cab with a German lady, one day, when she said:
"There,
that is Prince Ludwig and his wife, walking along there."
Everybody
was bowing to them — cabmen, little children, and everybody else
— and they were returning all the bows and overlooking nobody, when
a young lady met them and made a deep courtesy.
"That
is probably one of the ladies of the court," said my German friend.
I
said:
"She
is an honor to it, then. I know her. I don't know her name, but I know
HER. I have known her at Allerheiligen and Baden-Baden. She ought to be
an Empress, but she may be only a Duchess; it is the way things go in
this way."
If
one asks a German a civil question, he will be quite sure to get a civil
answer. If you stop a German in the street and ask him to direct you to
a certain place, he shows no sign of feeling offended. If the place be
difficult to find, ten to one the man will drop his own matters and go
with you and show you.
In
London, too, many a time, strangers have walked several blocks with me
to show me my way.
There
is something very real about this sort of politeness. Quite often, in
Germany, shopkeepers who could not furnish me the article I wanted have
sent one of their employees with me to show me a place where it could
be had. |
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at
the entrance-door
 Illustration:
AT THE BALL-ROOM DOOR. |
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