VILLA ELSA

_A Story of German Family Life_

BY

STUART HENRY

NEW YORKE. P. DUTTON & COMPANY681 FIFTH AVENUE

COPYRIGHT 1920, BYE. P. DUTTON & COMPANY

_All Rights Reserved_

_Printed in the United States of America_

TO

Pat and Anna

IN LOVING TOKEN OF OUR WINTER'SCONVERSATIONS ON THE GERMANS

FOREWORD

This narrative offers a gentle but permanent answer to the problempresented to humanity by the German people. It seeks to go beyondthe stage of indemnities, diplomatic or trade control, peace byarmed preponderance. These agencies do not take into account Teutonnature, character, manner of living, beliefs. 

Unless the Germans are changed, the world will live at swords'points with them both in theory and in practice. Whether they arecharacteristically Huns or not, it should be tragically realizedthat something ought to be done to alter their type. Their minds, hearts, souls, should be touched in a direct, personal, intimateway. There should be a natural relationship of good feeling, anintelligent and _lived_ mutual experience, worked up, broughtabout. A League of Nations, of Peace, inevitably based on some sortof force, should be followed by a truly human programme leading tothe amicable conversion of that race, if it is at heart unrepentant, crafty, murderous. 

In the absence of any particular heed being paid to this underlying, fundamental subject, the present pages suggest for it a vitalsolution that seems both easy and practical and would promise torelieve anxiety as to an indefinitely uncertain, ugly future aheadof harassed mankind. 

How shall the German be treated in the present century and beyond?

To try to answer this aright, it is obviously necessary to know whatthe German is--what he is really like. To know him at his best, inhis truest colors, is to live with him in his most normal condition, and that is at his fireside, surrounded by his family. This aspecthas been the least fully presented during the war. What the Teutonmilitary and political chieftains, clergymen, professors, captainsof industry, editors and other men of position have said, how theyhave conducted themselves toward the rest of humanity, isnotoriously and distressingly familiar. But what the ordinary, educated German of peaceful pursuits, staying by his hearthstonefar behind and safe from the battle line, thought and wished tosay, has been beyond our ken. There has been no way to get at himor hear from him as to what lay frankly in his mind. 

His leaders loudly proclaimed themselves to be as terrifying as Hunsand unblushingly gloried in this profession. Has he agreed or has hesilently disagreed? Has he too wished this or has he been unwilling?Is he essentially a Hun, are his family essentially Huns, or arethey in reality good and kindly people like our people? Are theytemporarily misled?

The humble German families of education who are hospitable, who singand weep over sentimental songs in their homes, whose duties aremodest and revenues small, who have never been out of theirprovinces, who have had no relations with foreigners and could haveno personal cause for hatred--have they been so bloodthirsty aboutkilling and pillaging in alien lands?

Villa Elsa contains a family immune from any foreign influence andmatured in the most regular and unsuspecting Teuton way. The Germanhousehold is the most thoroughly instructed of all households. Itsmembers are disciplined to do most things well. How can it then beHun in any considerable degree? Impossible, said the nations, and sothey remained illy prepared against a frenzied onslaught. But ashocked public has beheld how readily the most erudite of mankind, as the Germans were generally held to be, could officially, deliberately and repeatedly as soldiers, singly and _en masse_, act like their ancestors--the barbarians of the days of Attila. 

These are all puzzling queries which this story attempts toilluminate and solve by its pictures and observations of thelife of such a modest and typical Teuton home in 1913 and 1914. Admittedly too much light, too much study, cannot be given tothe greatest issue civilization as a whole has faced. 

Villa Elsa is but Germany in miniature. In the significantcharacter, habits and activities of this household may be foundthe true pith and essence of real Germanism as normally developed. This Germanism appears ready to continue after the War to be themalignant and would-be assassin of other civilizations. It is, therefore, tragically important to find and act on the rightanswer to the question:

Is there any possible way to make the Germans become true, peace-loving friends with us--with the rest of mankind?

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

 FOREWORD vii

 I. TRIUMPHANT GERMANY IN 1913 1

 II. DEUTSCHLAND UEBER ALLES 6

 III. GARD KIRTLEY 11

 IV. VILLA ELSA 19

 V. FAMILY LIFE 29

 VI. THE HOME 36

 VII. GERMAN LOVING 46

 VIII. GERMAN COURTSHIP 54

 IX. A JOURNALIST 64

 X. SPIES AND WAR 71

 XI. GERMAN WAYS 78

 XII. HABITS AND CHILDREN 86

 XIII. DOWN WITH AMERICA! 94

 XIV. AFTERMATH 106

 XV. MILITARY BLOCKHEADS 113

 XVI. A LIVELY MUSICIAN 120

 XVII. IMMORALITY AND OBSCENITY 125

 XVIII. THE NAKED CULT 134

 XIX. JIM DEMING OF ERIE, PAY 145

 XX. AN AMERICAN VICTORY 152

 XXI. A PEOPLE PECULIAR OR PAGAN? 160

 XXII. MAKING FOR WAR 168

 XXIII. SOCIAL ETIQUETTE 178

 XXIV. THE COURT BALL 186

 XXV. FRITZI AND ANOTHER CONVERSATION 192

 XXVI. SOME OF THE LESS KNOWN EFFICIENCY 200

 XXVII. THE IMPERIAL SECRET SERVICE 210

 XXVIII. JIM DEMING'S FATE 218

 XXIX. WINTER AND SPRING 229

 XXX. VILLA ELSA OUTDOORS 238

 XXXI. A CASUAL TRAGEDY 247

 XXXII. A GERMAN MARRIAGE PROPOSAL 256

 XXXIII. A WAITRESS DANCE 263

 XXXIV. CHAMPAGNE 272

 XXXV. RECUPERATION 279

 XXXVI. THE GERMAN PROBLEM. AN ANSWER 285

 XXXVII. A GERMAN "GOTT BE WITH YE" 294

XXXVIII. A JOURNEY 302

 XXXIX. THE TOMB OF CHARLEMAGNE 313

 XL. THE END OF A LITTLE GAME 323

 XLI. ARE THEY HUNS? 329

 XLII. THE ANTI-CHRISTIANS? 336

 XLIII. THE TEUTON PROBLEM. A SOLUTION 347

VILLA ELSA

CHAPTER I

TRIUMPHANT GERMANY IN 1913

In the late summer of 1913 a quiet American college man oftwenty-three, tall, lean, somewhat listless in bearing, who hadbeen idling on a trip in Germany without a thought of adventure, was observing, without being able to define or understand, one ofthe most remarkable conditions of national and racial exhilarationthat ever blessed a country in time of ripest peace. 

He had never been out of America, and supposed his Yankee people, with all their wide liberty, contemplated life with as muchenjoyment as any other. But in that land which is governed withiron, where (as Bismarck said) a man cannot even get up out of hisbed and walk to a window without breaking a law, Gard Kirtley wasfinding something different, strange, wonderful, in the way ofmarked happiness. It pulsated everywhere, in every man, woman andchild. It seemed to be a sensation of victory, yet there had beenno victory. It appeared to reflect some mighty distinctive humanachievement or event of which a whole race could be proud inunison. There had been nothing of the sort. 

And yet it was there, a certain exuberance. The people, with headscarried high, quickly moving feet and pockets full of money, wereenlivened by a public joyousness because they were humans and, above all, because they were Germans. It seemed a joy of humanprestige, of wholesale well-being, of an assuredly auspiciousfuture. Multitudes of toasts were being drunk. The marching andcounter-marching of soldiers looked excessive even for Germany. Aseason of patriotic holidays was apparently at hand. Festivals, public rites, celebrated the widespread exultation. The wholecountry conducted itself as on parade, _en fête_. 

Wages were higher and comforts greater than ever known there. Forthe first time chambermaids often drank champagne and wore on theirheads lop-sided creations of expensive millinery with confidentawkwardness--creations which they said came from Paris. The chimneysweeps had high hats and smoked good tobacco which they may havethought came from London. For the imported was the high water markof plenty in Germany as always elsewhere, though she claimed to makethe best goods. 

The scene should not be painted in too high colors--colors toofixed. To the careless observer it doubtless appeared littledifferent from the annual flowering forth of the German race inits short summer season. Always at that time were the open gardenslively, the roses blooming with the crude, dense hues that theTeutons like, and all the folk pursuing their busy tasks andvigorous pleasures with a sort of goose-step alacrity. 

But the closer, more sensitive onlooker felt something more in1913--something widely organized, unified, puissant, imperialindeed, such as, he may have imagined, had not existed since thedays of the great emperors in Rome. What the Germans told all comerswas that they had the best of governments, and that no nation hadbeen so thoroughly, soundly and extensively prosperous. 

For each citizen read in his daily paper of successful and growingTeuton activities in the most distant parts of the earth--in ports, regions and among peoples whose names he had never heard before andcould not pronounce. At breakfast his capacious paunch and hiswife's fat, flowing bosom expanded with pride in hearing of some newfar-off passenger route carrying the flag, of the Made in Germanybrand sweeping the markets of the world, and perhaps of the Kaiser'ssafe return to his palace, bronzed with the cast of health andstrength. Never had investments brought the German such highrates. Never had speculation been so rife and withal so uniformlyprofitable. 

As for industry, Deutschland was a colossal beehive. If Frederickthe Great started the beehive, William the Second was increasing itssize to unbelievable proportions. Insignificant villages everywherecontained millions of dollars' worth of machinery, manufacturinggoods of untold value. Not an ounce of energy, not a second of time, seemed to be lost in the Empire. Every German was a busy cog fittedprecisely into the whole national plant. 

It was as if the Teuton knew that other races must soon stand withtheir backs to the wall and that now was the moment to redoubleeffort to capture still more trade and reduce the rest of the worldto an acknowledged state of submission. 

CHAPTER II

DEUTSCHLAND UEBER ALLES

Thus the Germans, in 1913, felt how supreme their country was or wasspeedily becoming. Not only their newspapers but their educators, their pastors and, more than all, their military and politicalleaders told them that a place above the rest of mankind had beenreached. The pride, the assurance, pervading the land was the stiffand hardy efflorescence of this universal conclusion. And theTeutons had earned and therefore merited it all, for no one, nothing, scarcely even Nature, had lent a helping hand. 

German women knew they were the best housekeepers, wives, mothers, dressers, dancers. Never had they been so to the fore. Never hadthey had so much money to spend for clothes. Never had theypromenaded so proudly to martial music or waltzed so perspiringlywith the fashion-plate officers whom they adored. 

The children were paragons of diligence and promise. In their schoolbooks and college text books everything German was lauded in thesuperlative; everything foreign was decried as inferior, undesirable. Nearly every human discovery, invention, improvement, was somehow traced to a Teuton origin. Even characteristic Germanvices were held to be better than many virtues in other lands. 

The young person grew up to believe that the Rhine was the finest ofrivers, the mountains of the Fatherland were the most celebrated insong and story, its lakes the most picturesque, its soil the besttilled. He was properly stuffed with the indomitable conviction, theaggressive obsession, that the fittest civilization _must_ prevail. 

And the army! Always the army--that bulwark, that invincible force!Hundreds of thousands of civilians apparently regretted they werenot back in the barracks, following the noblest of occupations assoldiers for the supreme War Lord. The army represented admittedperfection. Foreign observers were united in naïvely attesting itsimpeccableness. It was ready to the last shoe button, to the lasttwist of its waxed mustache. But ready for what? Few outside ofGermany appeared to think of asking. The army was taken to be simplyTeuton life and of no more ulterior significance than the nationalbeer. 

The admission was also general at home and abroad that the GermanGovernment was the most free from graft and the most thorough. InGermany the kings and princes were paid homage as models of wisdomand virtue, and the Kaiser was believed to be walking with God, handin hand, palm to palm. In token of the mystic union between Emperorand people, Hohenzollern monuments were seen rising in all parts ofthe Empire in greater quantity, amid greater thanksgivings. These_Denkmals_ were growing huger, more thunderous in appearance, andserved the double purpose of keeping the populace in a state ofadmiring, unquestioning awe and expressing fulminating Bewares! toother races. In every home, factory, retail shop, public place, wasthe Kaiser's picture, with his trellised mustache, and his devouteyes cast with a chummy comradeship up to heaven. 

All the foregoing explanations accounted in part for a gloriousincrease in noise among a people that does everything loudly. Thenational noisiness was harmonized somewhat by innumerable bands andorchestras. Public balls seemed to have become the order of thenight, and the famous forests by day were filled by echoes of thehorns of the bloody chase--the _cors de chasse_ of the legendaryRoland and knights of the Nibelungen. Humble civilians grew fonderof the habit of donning their military or hunting uniforms and bigmarching boots, and sticking cock's feathers in their hats at rakishangles, recalling the war of 1870 or reviving dreams of the sportingTyrol. They drank daily more pints of beer and swallowed thehot-headed Rhine wines as if thus renewing their blood in that oftheir fiery ancestors. Meals mounted to seven or eight a day, for itwas proper to gorge themselves like the human gods they were. Eventhe most servile took on a conscious air of being of a regalspecies. 

In this wise, the German, like Cain, the competent iron-worker, wastreading the earth with resounding footsteps. Over his bullneck andunder his spiked hat he had naturally come to look upon himself as asuper-being. While the American watched ball games, the Englishmanplayed golf and the Frenchman wrote to his loved one, the Teuton waskeeping himself hardened for war, and toiling like the systematicbeaver in up-building national industries that were so swiftlydominating all others. To say the least, this intense people werestrenuously perfecting an intensive and powerful civilization suchas never had been seen. 

So--as Gard Kirtley was finding and yet failing to explain tohimself--expectancy, undescribable and splendid, was in the airbeyond the Rhine. And there was one special toast drunk to it allwith ever more loudly clinking glasses--Der Tag! Such was triumphantGermany, the triumphant Vaterland, in 1913--foretasting a portentousfuture; pregnant with colossal success; swollen with a hundred yearsof victories and growth; as sure of its prowess and might as werethe swaggering gods of its Valhallas. 

Imperial Deutschland über Alles!

CHAPTER III

GARD KIRTLEY

Into this Triumphant Germany young Kirtley had come to recuperatefrom the sadness over the loss, the previous year, of his parentsand from a siege of sickness. Still somewhat pale, somewhat weak, heshowed the shock he had undergone. He had toured across southernGermany and up to Berlin where he had bidden good-by to his chanceAmerican traveling companion, Jim Deming, who was knocking aboutItaly and Teutonland. They had exchanged final addresses. 

Kirtley, clean-shaven, with pleasant brown eyes, and brown hairbrushed down flat, giving his head the appearance of smallness, looked very lank and Yankeeish among the robust, fat Teutons of theSaxon capital. He was entering Dresden on a late afternoon brownwith German sunshine. The school year had begun, but a loiteringsummer-time brightened city and countryside. As he made his wayslowly through the throng at the station, he gave evidence of arather shy way of looking up and about, an apologetic readinessto step aside, to yield place, not characteristic of the speedyAmerican in Europe. He had not, as we have said, come to Germanyfor adventure. He had not come merely to idle for the winter. Andcertainly he little mistrusted he was finally to figure as a modesthero in a curious and dangerous experience that linked itself upwith the beginning of the war of which he, like the world at large, felt not the slightest premonition. 

His German teacher had been his favorite in his eastern collegewhere he had one season been a very fair halfback. His bettershowing had exhibited itself in his ability to throw from left fieldto home plate on the ball team. This American preceptor of Germanparentage had taken an interest in Kirtley with the insistent way ofTeutonic pedagogues. Always commending with a uniform vigor theGermans and German fashions of living, he had gradually filled Gardfull of the idea of their excelling merits. 

Kirtley heard of the tonic of the nutritious Teuton beer and Teutonmusic in overflowing measures. In the Kaiser's realm, it appeared, the digestions are always good. How desirable it would be for Gardto take on some flesh in the German manner! In that climate, Professor Rebner claimed with assurance, although he had never beenabroad, one can eat and drink his fill without causing the humansystem to rebel as it is apt to in our dry, high-strung America. Hispupil's appetite would come back. Hearty meals of robust cheese andsausages would be craved with an honest, clamorous hunger that meantfoolish indelicacy here at home. 

Rebner also urged that Gard could in Deutschland improve his Germanwhich, notwithstanding his affection for his preceptor, wasindifferent. Its gutturalness grated on his nerves, antagonized him. But he criticized himself for this, not the language. Had not hisold mentor always sung of the superiorities of that tongue?

Kirtley could improve, too, his fingering on the piano byfamiliarizing himself with the noble melodies that flooded theGerman land. Two hairy hands would go up in exultation, "To hear Beethoven and Wagner in their own country, filling theatmosphere with their glories! And then Goethe and Schiller. Thosemighty deities. To read them in their own home!"

But the greatest thing, to the old professor's mind, would be tobehold the German people themselves, study them, profit by them intheir preëminence. What an example, what an inspiration, what agrand symphony of concentrated harmony! Germany was the source ofProtestantism and therefore of modern morals--honest, uncompromisingmorals. German discipline would have a bracing, solidifying effecton a typically casual, slack American youth like Gard, whose latentcapabilities were never likely to be fully called upon in thecomparatively hit-and-miss organization of Yankee life. 

For he had not yet begun to find himself. He had not even decided ona calling at an age when the German is almost a full-fledgedcitizen, shouldering all the accompanying obligations. Kirtley'sexemplary conduct and the gravity cast over him by the death of hisloved ones, had led him to think a little of Rebner's suggestionsabout the ministry. And for this, Luther's country would be expectedto be sublime. 

The loudly reiterated praise of Germany and the Germans had at lastproduced the desired effect on Gard. He was prevailed upon to breakaway from the old associations, go abroad for a year and get a freshand stout hold on the future. Rebner, through his connections, hadbeen able to arrange for a home in Saxony for his pupil's sojourn. It was in "a highly estimable and well-informed family" who hadnever taken a paying guest. Although a new experience for them, theyhad urgently insisted that they would do everything they could tomake his stay agreeable and beneficial. This was deemed most lucky. For the real German character and existence could there be observedand lived with the best profit, uncontaminated by the intermixtureof doubtful foreign associations. 

And so Gard had arrived in Dresden, in whose attractive suburb ofLoschwitz, on the gently rising banks of the Elbe, the worthyBuchers were domiciled. As his limping German did not give himconfidence about the up-and-down variety of the Saxon dialect, hedid not venture this afternoon to find his way by tram to the house. The blind German script in which his hosts' solicitous and minuteinstructions were couched, and the funny singsong of the nativestalking blatantly about him, made him feel still more helpless. Hesought refuge in an open droschke. He could then, too, enjoy thedrive across the city. 

The Saxon capital sits capaciously like a comfortable old dowagerfully dressed in stuffs of a richly dull color. Her thick skirts arespread about her with a contented dignity which does not interferewith her eating large sandwiches openly and vigorously at the opera. To-day the mellow sunlight crowned her ancient nobleness with abecoming hue, as Gard was jogged along in a roundabout way throughthe city. Here at the left were the august bridges and great park, all famed in Napoleon's battles. Over there were the dowdy royalpalaces. There, too, was the house of the sacred Sistine. Her sweetlineaments shone down in almost every American parlor Gard knew. 

The dingy baroque architecture, whose general tastelessness washeavily banked up by a multitude of towers, gables and high copings, suggested an old-fashioned residential city of the days of urbanfortifications. The uniform arrays of buildings, all pretending tothe effect of sumptuousness thickened by weighty proportions andblasphemed by rococo hesitations and doubts, seemed constructed toexalt the doughty glory of Augustus the Strong--Dresden's localThor, its chief heroic figure in the favorite Teuton galaxy ofmuscled Titans. Somber medieval squares, blocked away quaintly fromthe world, were relieved by the celebrated Brühl Terrace, enlivenedby gilded statuary and by historic and literary memories. 

Through all this metropolis of formidable and dun respectabilitycurved the Elbe as if to round off the massive imitations ofsomething better somewhere else. Hither coursed the smooth brownstream from Bohemia, not far away, through the high fastnesses ofthe Erz range and the groomed vistas of Saxon Switzerland, and pastthe frowning old fortress of Königstein, towering near a thousandfeet above its untroubled bosom. Kirtley was to find the river, withits carefully tended shores, a companion in many an hour. 

CHAPTER IV

VILLA ELSA

Such in brief was the scene that stretched out around him andenveloped his attention and interest. There was not majesty thatwould offend, but rather a cosy formality that is the absence ofstyle. It cured somewhat the homesick inclinations that quitenaturally haunted him after a wearying day of travel and asnightfall drew down about his loneliness. He was bound for thehome of a strange family, speaking a tongue in which he was farfrom glib. It had been written, though, that the Bucher youngpeople had learned English pretty well at school. 

Kirtley reached his destination to find that the parents werewaiting expectantly to receive him. With German consciousness, theywere stuffily attired for this novel and important event. Afterstaunch greetings he was led into the house past a big angry dogthat stood guard tempestuously at the door. Gard found later thatsuch savage barking was quite a feature of the Teuton threshold, andmight be considered one bristling aspect or cause of the ungenialdevelopment of the social spirit in Germany. _Cave canem_ can hardlybe called a suitable first attraction toward the spread ofhospitality. He feared he was going to be bitten and wished hiswelcome had not been complicated with shudders. 

The entrance to Villa Elsa consisted of a hallway swimming in headyodors from the strong cooking in the adjacent kitchen. Kirtley stoodfor a moment stifled. But he was to become more used to the lustysmells that roam about, presumptuous and fortifying, in Germanhouseholds and of which, indeed, all German existence is resolutelyredolent. Strength, whether in barking dogs or fumes or what-not, appeals to the race. 

In the passage-way, too, Gard was struck by the presence of variousweapons, and shields, hunting horns, sundry pairs of large boots, military or shooting garments, belts loaded with cartridges. Itseemed almost like the combative entry to some museum of armor. Taken together with the embattled dog, it suggested a defendedfortress rather than a peaceful fireside. 

"How pugnacious!" Gard declared to himself. 

In the entry Ernst was called, and he came promptly forth, a smilinglad of fifteen, with a musing face, his thick light hair thrown backand run through meditatively by his fingers. He conducted Gard uptwo flights to a good-sized but snug room where he was to abide. Alinden tree courted the window panes with its green branches. 

Just the place for a fellow who wants to get away from the world andread!--Kirtley thought. 

On his nightstand lay, with characteristic Teuton foresight, thenames and addresses of a language teacher and of a music teacherwho were duly "recommending themselves" to him in the German idiom. Lists of purchasable text books and musical editions from houseswhich, in the thoroughly informed Teuton manner, had got wind ofhis coming, also opened before him. 

"They evidently expect me to begin to-morrow morning. No loss oftime. " He laughed to himself. 

His trunk and satchel were in his room in a few minutes with all thecertainty and punctuality of the imperial-royal service. "_Essenfertig!_" was soon vociferated up the stairway by the cook Tekla, whose bulky young form Gard had glimpsed in the kitchen. Not sure ofbeing summoned he did not emerge until Ernst tapped on the door--

"Meester Kirtley, please come to eating. "

At table the elder son was introduced--Rudolph, called Rudi, a youthof about Gard's age. There was an unseemly scar on his face andsomething oblique in his look. Engineering was given as hisprofession, but he affected the German military strut and wasforward and crammed with ready-made conclusions on most subjects. But Herr Bucher reigned here as elsewhere about Villa Elsa asabsolute master. He alone spoke with authority. Reverence wasfirst of all due him. Gard soon saw how the wife and children, notwithstanding their stirring presences, were on a secondary plane. How different in the land where he had come from where they arequite free to rule in the house! The sturdy Frau was submissive, energetically helpful. But in her husband's absence she assumed hisstentorian command. 

The manner of eating was frankly informal and ungainly. Evidences ofsharp discipline one moment; the next, awkward short-cuts. TheGermans have never been able to harmonize these extremes into amedium of easy formality or sightly smoothness. At the Bucher tableeach one reached across for the food with scarce an apology--a planjerkily interrupted at times by Tekla, who stuck things at Gard asif she were going to hit him. The strong provender heaped up inabundance, rank in smell and usually unappetizing in color, interfered at first with his hunger. And the drinking was, ofcourse, of a copiousness he had little dreamed of. 

The whole effect created a distinctly unsympathetic impression. Itran full tilt against Gard's anticipations. Rebner had led him toexpect always the best among the Germans. Were they not the mostadvanced of humans? Were they not the patterns whom he should modelhimself after in the laudatory desire for self-improvement? He wasnaturally curious to see the young lady of the household, all themore as he wondered how she would blend into this blunt picture. Shedid not appear and he heard no reference to her. But there was avacant place. 

Much struggling occurred over the mutual endeavors to carry onconversation. With the English which the sons had learned and withGard's German which he found a strange article on its native ground, headway was made after a fashion. His bloodless American collegevariety of the language was very weak to buffet about in thesebillows of idioms and colloquialisms. 

The family, in its emphatic substantiality, was most friendly andeager to please. They urged food and fluid upon him in a way thatwould have dismayed his Yankee doctor. He found himself eating anddrinking to an extent he had never imagined. This sort of thing, heconcluded half-despairingly, would either be the making of him orkill him. At home the general fear was about too much. Here satiety, over-satiety, seemed to be the rule as at all German firesides. While he dreaded to think what his abstemious digestive apparatuswould do, his new friends took not amiss the bountiful spilling ofedibles and liquids upon their napkins spread conspicuously overtheir breasts. Laundering must be cheap in Germany. That was onegood thing. 

Gard did not forget that this was represented to be a highlyinstructed and cultivated circle. The members had graduated from thebest schools or held degrees from standard universities. He keptasking himself in what guises the much advertised German excellencewas yet to appear in this domestic group whose culture and virtueshad been so extolled. If these manners and habits were part of itsperfect ripened fruit, then American education and life were indeedobviously blighted. He could not help noticing that all hands hadnot been necessarily washed before meal-time, and that finger nailswere unblushingly uncleaned and unkempt. An accidental glimpse underthe immense flowing white beard of his host revealed the absence ofa shirt collar, and the neck evidently relied on its untrimmedhairiness as an excuse for not being customarily washed. 

It became apparent to Kirtley after a month that personal cleannessand neatness in Germany were not particularly considered as next togodliness. The gold braid, spick and span uniforms and other showygear, were apt to cover dirty bodies and soiled underwear. Alas, theGermans could not wash in beer. He wondered why his old enthusiasticmentor had never given him a hint of these things. Likely he did notknow. Distance often increases eloquence in proportion as it breedsignorance. 

With the exhilaration of the bounteous meal, however, Gard's spiritsrose to a height he had not known in a long time. If conversationlanguished over the stony roads of the duality of expression, glasses were clinked together again and a new topic was hopefullystarted. When it seemed proper to him that the end of the repastshould be in sight, a new course would be brought in, usuallyaccompanied boisterously by the two family dogs, including theferocious beast who had given Gard the shivers. The animalsconducted themselves with a ravenous freedom around the board, alternately being petted and fed and allowed to lick plates, only tobe in turn kicked out and shrieked after, with a chair occasionallyupset in the rumpus. This habit of kicking animals, things andpersons Gard later observed was prevalent among the Teutons, whoseappropriate fondness for conveniently big boots and large stoutshoes at the same time discourages any vanity about small feet. Itis a part of their military predilection. 

At the end of a couple of hours dinner was brought to a close. Fräulein had not yet put in an appearance, and it now came out thatshe was "at lesson. " She must have stayed for another class. Afterhis gastronomic feat Gard did not know whether he felt sick or neverbetter in his life. What's more, he did not seem to care, his senseswere so pleasantly numbed. 

On his way up to his room, in the dim hall, he caught sight of ayoung woman hanging up her wrap. Mussed strands of straw-coloredhair shone down her shoulders and sent a sudden thrill of gladnessthrough his veins. He had never seen but one Wagner opera and thatwas "The Twilight of the Gods, " with its aureate Rhine maidensbathing in that delicious revelry of divine music. The arrival atlast of the daughter of the house, as he assumed this was, broughtback a flash of all that golden loveliness. 

In his sleep that first night, vast trenchers of food and tankardsof drink disported in happy confusion with goddesses blond andmagical. 

CHAPTER V

FAMILY LIFE

The matter of much eating and drinking had first to be, if possible, disposed of. It was exacting and the most important affair. Kirtleydid not want to be discourteous or appear unappreciative. He hadcome to Germany to do as the superior Germans do. His digestivetract was on the narrow-gage American plan. Theirs was broad-gage, with their surpassing organisms. 

At the Buchers Gard had manfully to face six meals a day. Must he beswamped in order to put the desirable adipose tissue on his bones?By all the laws of American dieting and Prohibition the German raceshould have been destroyed by indigestion and drunkenness centuriesago. But here they were more flourishing than ever--the generallyacknowledged nation of masters!

And his bed--the German bed. He could not remember whether MarkTwain ever described it, but he should have. Gard's haven of restappeared to lie on solid foundations. It was constructed with Germanstability. There were as many blankets in summer as in winter. 

Worst of all, two immense feather pillows lay across its middle. Theonly place for them seemed to be on his sorely tried stomach or onthe floor. In a month an attack of insomnia resulted. For hours atnight he lay awake, listening to the frequent rain on the roof orthe wind whining Teutonically in the leaves of his linden. 

In his initial troubles and anxieties he went to a German doctor. This spectacled wise man prescribed more beer. German physiciansseemed to be in league with the brewers. Gard was of the kind whowould suffer rather than complain. So he worried along. 

He did not fall in with the urgent, conscientious assumption ofthe Buchers that he would at once want to begin driving away at"lessons. " His hosts reminded him openly at times that hisprospective teachers were still waiting, still recommendingthemselves. Responsibility was evidently felt for his programmeof work. He realized that he was somewhat disappointing, forinstruction, education, is such a pushing, unceasing businesswith the Germans. It may be said they never finish school. 

Yet he wished first to take a good look at the historic city, itscelebrated art treasures. He wanted to make a few excursions in theenvirons before the winter set in with its dampness and gloom. Besides, he never before had had a chance at fine opera, at finesymphonies and music recitals. 

"But ought not Herr Kirtley at least begin with the free eveninglectures?"--with which Dresden shone through the illuminations ofmany profound and oracular professors in lofty pulpits. He submittedthat his German was too feeble of wing to enable him to soar intothe heights of such wisdom. 

The zest in Germany for learning and accomplishments was trulywonderful to him. Half his life of instruction now quickly seemed tohave been idling. As far as industriousness, drilling, well-definedambitiousness, were concerned, the young German had many advantages. 

The modest Bucher household was run educationally with the dynamicregularity of military establishments. It was, of course, noexception. Lessons and lectures commenced mornings at eight, withSundays partly included. This routine begins with the German childat six. 

Evenings, too, had their busy duties. No baseball, no tennis, nolazy days of swimming and fishing. Playtime was spent in martialexercise, in evenings at the opera or seeing the classical dramas ofall races and epochs on the stage. Gard became aware that the Bucherchildren had carried six or seven studies at an age when he hadthought he was abused, overburdened, with four. 

Besides, their courses were more mature. And yet he had come toGermany, despite Rebner's eulogiums of the Germans, with thecomplacent idea that, as he was the respectable American average, he could look the other youth of the world in the face unashamed, asking no odds. 

Little Ernst at fifteen was studying, among numerous things, philosophy and didactic religion. The way he could cite factsand carry on a discussion on these and similar subjects!

"What part do philosophy and religion play in our system ofinstruction for the young?" Gard asked himself with a deprecatorysmile. "Is it a miracle that the Germans can teach us desirableknowledge and morals, as Rebner insists?"

Kirtley readily perceived that he had scarcely sufficient preciseinformation to discuss intelligently general topics with this boy. The latter could always quote some acknowledged and ponderousauthority--German, of course, and all the more awe-inspiring, but ofwhom Gard had not heard. For it usually came down to the question, Who are your authorities? He rarely could tell who his were. Theypromptly faded away before all the weight and definiteness Ernstcould bring to bear. 

While Rudolph and Ernst were so far along as a result of a busyadolescence, Fräulein Elsa, as Gard discovered, was in her way notbehind. She knew English and French pretty well and was quite anaccomplished musician, able to play from memory on the winged Pleyelalmost whole books of classic music. She could paint fairly well inoil and was now taking up etching with enthusiastic assiduity. Shecould sew, cook, run the house. In brief, her days were as full asher brothers' in propelling tasks. _She_, apparently, did not have"boys on the brain. "

Kirtley threw up his hands in imitation of his venerated professor. This was just an ordinary German miss. He had scarcely dreamed ofsuch things in a girl. 

It was all illustrated by Gard's piano playing, which was cheap andmeaningless strumming. He could rattle through a lot of populartunes and stumble through a few short simple school-girl salonpieces. The Buchers were a real orchestra. With the ladies at thepiano, the old Herr at the flute, Ernst at the violin and Rudi atthe 'cello, they could play a dozen programmes and furnish enjoymentfor the listener. 

And always salutary, enlightened, cultivated music. The housereverberated with a multitude of choice enduring arias, sung, hummedor whistled, and this made Villa Elsa almost take on a charm forGard. He had not known how his melodious soul was starved. 

Why should not the Germans be expected to have noble souls with allthe wealth of distinguished, inspiring music flowing through theirlives? Should it not give them necessarily a strong, desirablespirit, fortify them in healthy aspirations, encourage them to getthe best out of existence? This incentive and pleasureableness, making for the good, the true and the beautiful--must it notcontribute a deep richness and righteousness to the Teuton heart?

And is it to be wondered at--the Germans' big supply of red blood?For the strength of the Teuton's body, Gard observed, was built up, maintained, in equal measure with his other training. The militarydrilling and strenuous gymnastics provided him with straightshoulders, a full chest, a sound spine, strength of limb--in short, good, presentable health. 

The Bucher fireside had no doctor, no adored specialists, hangingabout. It had been taught to handle simple complaints itself. Medical and surgical bills did not upset its modest financialequilibrium. The family were extraordinarily well. Their brawn, energetically looked after as well as the brain, accounted partlyfor their marvelous appetites. 

So nothing seemed to Gard to be missed in this potent scheme ofinstruction and _Kultur_. 

CHAPTER VI

THE HOME

Often when he peeked down from his attic window he spied the shiningbald head of the very elderly Herr Bucher surrounded by the mass oflively colors of his rose garden. He loved to spend hours there inthe sunshine with his posies, tying up their branches, clippingchoice specimens with which he was fond of decorating the membersof Villa Elsa, its dining table, its living room. Roses, roses, everywhere. 

It was his hobby, this spot of blossoms, and in it his short, bulkyform, so whitened by his Jovian beard meerschaumed by the stainsfrom his huge, curving German pipe, was often almost lost to view. He was like some droll gnome waddling about in a flower patch. Frequently someone had to be sent to find him among all those petswhich he knew so well by their Latin and popular names and by theircharacteristics. While he grumbled and so often stormed about in thehouse, speaking always in gruff tones of command, he was quite sunnyout there in his plot, although still guttural and dictatorial. 

He was a retired professor of phonetics and diction, but now andthen prepared a pupil. This was how he had met his wife a long, longtime before, when she was a young singer. She was twenty years hisjunior and had become so completely a housewife that you couldscarcely associate her with any art. She was fat, harsh, homely, masculine in the way of German women, an occasional long hairsticking from her face in emulation of a beard. 

Devoid of any graces of seduction, putting out her heavy fists inevery direction she exhibited a bearish kindness toward Gard thatseemed calculated at first to frighten him. She was loud-voiced, iron-jawed. One of her favorite boasts was that she had never beento a dentist. She pulled out her rarely aching teeth, or some one ofthe family pulled them for her. 

The Herr could be smoother and he assumed a fatherly solicitude overGard, looking out for his advantages, anxious that he should makeprogress. But Bucher evidently was annoyed at times by not havingauthority in the matter of the slow way in which his young guest setabout with his "studies. " Kirtley had not come to study, had notbeen trained to study, in the German sense. It would have beendifficult to make the old man see any virtue in such desultoriness. It doubtless proved to his mind that Americans are only halftrained, half tamed, half domesticated. 

The couple surrounded Kirtley with a protection, an honesty, areliability, a zeal, that was as surprising as it was, on the whole, gratifying. He felt a security he had hardly known in his own home. If he were cheated or otherwise imposed upon anywhere inDresden--and this did not often happen--the Buchers were violentlyup in arms about it and never ceased pursuit of the recreant untilthe wrong was righted. 

"The good German name must not be tarnished. "

In a word, they tried to treat him like a son; and so forceful andconstant were their efforts in this direction that he sometimeswished their well-meant attentions were less formidable. The easyAmerican "forget it, " "why bother, " "never again, " were expressionsof a mood unfamiliar to them. They visibly had small patience withsuch slackness which only, to their minds, encouraged lawlessness. 

The setting for Gard's approaching German love affair wasappropriately picturesque and propitious. A tight little meadow, with a grassy path wandering through by the Elbe, lay near at hand, and beyond, at the right, a pine wood--the Waldpark--with neatgraveled walks and rustic seats where the tonic air was often tobrace his musings. 

Adjacent was the small summer house, still poetically standing, where Schiller wrote "Don Carlos" a century and a quarter before. Aleafy lane led from the meadow to the walled garden inclosure ofVilla Elsa, whose branches, vines and flowering bushes insistedon making it almost a hidden retreat. The spot could not be more_gemütlich_--that familiar expressive word which Kirtley soonlearned to rely on amid the scant artillery of his defensiveweapons of conversational German. 

Through a swinging gate in the wall, and usually to the clanging ofa bell that announced you, you entered the house on a level with theground. On this floor were the kitchen and dining room. Next camethe _belle étage_, with the salon and music room opening into eachother, and with another apartment or two. Above, the chambers. Andstill above, the two attic rooms. All was plain but substantial. 

The garden furnished not only flowers but vegetables. And in onecorner stood a table and chairs for afternoon tea with cakes or beerwith cheese. Here the ever-busy sewing and knitting mainly went onin summer, and a forgotten book, half read, was usually left by someone of the young folks. There was a drowsy, old-fashioned air aboutthe premises that recalled illustrations in some of the editions ofGrimm's fairy tales. 

Aside from the abundance of bound music, Gard had been far fromexpecting that fine examples of art and literature would be someagerly represented in this representative German home. Therewere poor pictures of Bismarck, of William the Second, and ofhis grandfather aping the appearance of Gambrinus. 

Prominent also were steel engravings of Saxon and Prussian kings ofwhom Kirtley had never heard. But there they were, conspicuoushousehold gods, with fierce, epic miens and lordly bodies, surrounded by wreaths of glory and Latin texts, and supported bycannon pointed at the observer with menaces of angry welcome. Andnot to be forgotten were the august thrones, avenging swords ofroyalty, and the dark swirling clouds suggesting the German Olympus. 

"It all harmonizes with the arsenal down in the entrance, "muttered Gard. 

As for books, he was taken at an angle still more unexpected andsignificant. Goethe and Schiller and the other old Teuton classics, breathing of liberalness and freedom--figures that had always stoodout in the world as leading exponents and guardians of a culturedenlightenment--were only present in the Bucher home in the form ofmusty, unused volumes. 

These authors, who were so loved, advocated and expounded inAmerican colleges and whom Kirtley had come to Germany to knowbetter and to worship, were scarcely ever mentioned. He wasastonished to find that the Germans thought little of them. AndHeine likewise, that naughty child of the Vaterland! At the Buchersthe presentable red and gilt edition of his poems was kept inFräulein's escritoire in her room. 

American education, Gard began to realize, was somehow on the wrongtrack here. It was trying to cultivate a Germany that no longerseemed to exist. It was diligently teaching and acclaiming Teutonswho were repudiated in their own land. It was separating the spiritand taste of the two peoples instead of bringing them together. 

The books that were in evidence in Villa Elsa were a new lot, excepting the great and formidable Nietschke. Kirtley had neverheard of the Treitschkes and Bernhardis and Hartmanns, whom theBuchers were reading and quoting. 

From what he made out, these and similar authorities were insistingmightily on German conceptions and prerogatives--some exalting theTeuton supremacy of will, others urging and preparing the mentalground for an armed attack on the world for a German dictatorship. This militant literature was introduced here by Rudolph, who wasarmed with strategic plans, diagrams, military maps, which thefamily frequently of an evening pored over with the enthusiasm of aparlor game. First it was Russia to be assaulted, then Belgium, andalways France. 

"Italy is already as good as conquered, " Rudi proclaimed, "andEngland simply needs to be tilted off her worm-eaten perch by asudden shock. "

Kirtley rubbed his eyes. What a widespread, horrible butchery wasbeing nursed and nourished here in this obscure family of peace?Surely this good folk did not appreciate the meaning of it all. Wasit not merely something awfully exciting to talk about, argue about, puzzle over, in the prosaic humdrum at this respectable hearthstone?

Such a strange form of social entertainment! The "arsenal" belowalways came to Gard's mind. These people acted as if they wereactually thinking of capturing the whole Eastern Hemisphere, speaking as if they were going to rule it like conquerors, going toenforce at the point of the blade German "might, " "will, " "rights. "These were the common expressions used. Kirtley thought thehousehold must be unbalanced on this topic. 

He said to himself, "No one else whom I have read or heard of iscontemplating such a campaign. Other races are holding forth on thebenefits and glories of peace. These Dresden Germans are talking ofthe benefits and glories of war!"

This example in these simple, every-day Buchers was most pointed. Their lines were furthest from the military. Teaching diction andphonetics to women and male singers, studying engineering, religionand the gentle arts, had nothing to do with such proposed bloodybelligerence. 

Only Rudi could be called somewhat martial. Hydraulics was hisbranch, and his frequent absences on missions about which he assumedan important and mystifying air, such as is, for that matter, usualin bumptious young men, never caused any comment or visible intereston the part of the others. He gave himself out to be close to the_militaire_, familiar with its secrets, as he freely blew hiscigarette smoke across the meal table; and to him the familydeferred on these subjects. Surely all this was to Gard veryforeign and interesting. 

"What a different race of beings! What a curious revelation toobserve, what a doughty complex to comprehend!"

He was more confounded by the attitude of the women. They were evenfiercer than the men. To them the other Europeans were a wholly badlot. Those neighbors were so much in the way of the good, all-worthyGermans. But it was on the English that this feminine hatred venteditself most turbulently. Frau Bucher shouted that she would be morethan glad--she would be hilarious--if war came. 

"I would wear my last rag for years, see my two boys dead on thebattle front, if Gross Britain could be knocked into the bottom ofthe sea. "

Was all this a part of that national gladness Gard was observing inGermany and could not gage, could not yet give an explicit andsufficient reason for? Those old-time Teuton liberals, masters ofprose and verse--how would they feel at home in this modernRhineland of hysterical spleen and arms provocative? Was itpossible he had really come on a sort of fool's errand?

CHAPTER VII

GERMAN LOVING

Fräulein Elsa was a blooming, almost blue-eyed young woman oftwenty. Such a fresh, strawberry and cream complexion under aplenteous harvest of flaxen hair would not be associated in Americawith anyone very serious. _There_ she would have been thoughtarrayed by Nature as a tearing blonde, suitable for the equivocallight stage, or as a frivolous artist's model, or as promenade girlin a suit and cloak house. But in Fräulein the extraordinarycombination of volatile comeliness and unimpeachable earnestnessdaily worked growing wonders in Kirtley. 

It is a luckless young traveler who does not find himself or herselfengaged in some romance, permanent or transient, which ever aftersweetens or gilds the memories of the tour. Moreover Gard was at anage when youthful susceptibilities were softened by thelackadaisicalness of his returning state of health and hope. 

So his difficulties with the German language, feasting, sleeping andredoubtable ways in general, were to be complicated by Germanloving. The shining object of his tenderness--how she was to lendbrightness to the short dismal days and long black nights of theTeuton winter! At first he had asked himself:

"Is a campaign of the heart in Deutschland as portentous, dreadfullysystematic, a proceeding as the other undertakings? Do the Germansgo at that sort of thing, too, hammer and tongs?"

The glowing Fräulein was able-bodied, full-chested, with everygolden promise of a rich maternityhood. Did American girls haveany bosoms to speak of? Gard seemed now to have never noticed thatfeature in them. Yet bounding breasts are the unashamed pride ofGerman girls. 

While the Yankee miss is often to be identified by complaints of aphysical nature, Elsa had no aches or pains to talk about. She hada strength competent to support all her energetic, meritoriousendeavors. A thoroughly well woman--what an exceptional being, agod-send! It is not the fashion with maids beyond the Rhine to beailing. Weak backs, nervous prostration, indigestion and similarindispositions were not topics at the Buchers'. To be coquettishlydelicate or romantically ill is a liability to the Germans. Health, unenchanting as it may be, is a prime asset. That the Teuton womenare gormands--what is that compared with their willingness to mothersix or more sturdy youngsters?

Had Frau Bucher been an Elsa at twenty? Yes, in the main, yetimpossible to conceive. Would Elsa become at fifty-five like herparent? Heaven forbid! But Youth ignores such deterrentprobabilities. 

The daughter and her manifold achievements easily bowled Gard over. Was he in love or did he merely imagine he was? Was he filling withthe divine fire or only being smitten? Who could ever tell? And whatis, in fact, the practical difference? Kindly old Rebner had hintedthat it would not be amiss in Gard to bring home one of theexcellent German _mädchens_ with her brimming stock of health andefficiency. 

"She would be an answer to our American servant girl question, floodyour fireside with invigorating music, and rear a house full ofrobust children. It would be a novel and commendable experiment andexperience for you, Kirtley. "

Of course Heine is the approved route with a German girl. Gardborrowed from Fräulein an old copy of the "Buch der Lieder. " Veryobliging at times like the rest of the family in the business ofimproving his accent, she urged that if he would commit some ofthose little prized poems to heart, she would supervise hisintonations. He eagerly betook himself to this charming exercise, and it was not long before he was inviting her to walk along thatalluring path through the meadow by the persuasive water. Here herepeated over and over to her the very pertinent lines, Thou'rt like unto a flower, and

 Thou lov'st me not, thou lov'st me not, under the conscientious reproofs of her engaging diction. 

But never more than for half an hour at a time. This was all shecould spare him. Her days were very strictly divided by her pressingconcerns. A sightly young woman so tremendously busy--it was almostexasperating. 

And he could not establish any tender quality of relationship thatwould warm a delectable exchange of rosy intimations or tentativeexpressions of budding feelings of delight. It was teacher andpupil. She unsuspectingly insisted on following her rôle ofpreceptress and very earnest was she about it, too. 

She saw nothing comical in his frequent linguistic stumblings thatwould naturally lead to melting moods. As the Germans have, ofcourse, little humor, she found in these faulty exhibitions onlycauses for disappointed glances and reprimands approaching severity. Often you would have thought he was a boy of ten reciting his lessonat her knee. 

"Now Thursday by half past ten, you must have that line right or Iwill _scold_ you. " And she would sometimes laugh a little in herdiscouragement. 

She looked upon it as a duty, a voluntary drudgery, but which, sheassured him, she was most pleased to do. For she loved Heine--ravedabout him, like sentimental German maids. She could never go overhis verse often enough. And so she encouraged Gard to keep on. Itwas a reflected part of her normal disciplined life of acquisition. 

After a month of these tactics he realized he was making no headwaytoward--he did not acknowledge what. Young men as a type did notseem to Elsa of special interest any more than a hundred otherobjects on earth. And then the cold weather before long put an endto the little promenades of rime by the shore, and Gard had to tryother lines of attack on this radiant and beflowered Germanfortress. 

The park of fir trees lay quite beyond the meadow. It was a silent, evocative spot, unfrequented except for a peasant now and thentrudging along under a bundle of wood or a weather-beaten basket ofprovisions. Kirtley had managed to stray that far once with Elsa, but learned that the mother was expected to accompany at suchdistances. It provoked his silent comment, "As nearly as I can estimate, about a half a mile from home is allthat is allowed a German miss unchaperoned. "

It was the same when he invited Fräulein to the opera or theater. The parent must attend. As she was equally occupied, it did notappear easy for him to arrange for the two. Besides, Frau Bucherkilled everything under these confounding and confoundedcircumstances. She sat between him and her daughter and ruled theconversation. It was little better than taking her alone, so heabandoned also these enterprises. 

In the talk at table the family, with Teuton tactlessness, now andthen cried out the surpassing merits of the German young man. Unquestionably he led all others. Gard met no success in stemmingthe tide, miffed as he was about this social seclusion of thedaughter. He soon saw his mistake in feeling personally hurt, as ifinsulted. It was but the custom. Could it be indeed a fact thatGerman youths were such moral reprobates that girls could not betrusted to their unguarded companionship? The question had nomeaning to his hosts. It was useless to hint of such an idea, burning as he often was to launch it upon the waves of discussion. To them, chaperoning signified the highest morals. 

They exploded with, "It may very well be as you say in America!That is to be expected. Are there any morals in the United States?We have heard awful things. There are the Mormons. There isco-education. And young girls of the best families go around loosewith men day and night. What _could_ be the result? Free love. Andfree love means cheap love or no love at all. Admittedly pretty lowconditions for virtue. What else can be looked for in a countrywhere all sorts of people come promiscuously from everywhere?Divorces, voting females, slatterns, homelessness, neglected, poorlyeducated children. "

If, in passing, America and Americans were referred to in thefamily, and this was rare, Elsa, Gard noticed, kept silent. Yet shecould be very wrought up about other Europeans. This nursed hisfancies. He interpreted it in terms of promise. Elsa, he decided, was a good girl in a hedge-hog environment of unbelievable traits, of warring contrasts. 

CHAPTER VIII

GERMAN COURTSHIP

Once during the winter he tried on her a course of flirtation whichhe had learned very well in his Sophomore year. But German girls donot flirt. His arrows sank in feebly, impotently, as if herattention had the despairing resistance of a sandbag. Unperturbedshe made nothing of it. He felt that she thought he was silly or hadthe rickets. So he speedily gave this up. 

Thus he became aware how vastly different are courtship and otherrelations between young men and young women in America and inGermany. He asked himself. 

"Are the German ways more civilized?" Certainly, to the Teuton, theyrepresent a more creditable and becoming evolution. He alwaysstoutly favors his own customs, and finds little here to discuss. Even if a rotten morality in his young gods is to be assumed, thiswould be proper as in the young gods of the mythologies. 

The Teuton marriage refers plainly to property. The language hasprominent terms indicating how espousal means goods with a womanattached to them. There is scarcely an equivalent in English. Courtship in the form of natural little raptures that disport in andbeautify enamored companionship in youth, the pure, unfettered, mystic attraction between the sexes in blossoming time, arepractically unknown to the German social life. The full gloss offancy, the velveting of manners, the felicitous fabrication ofinnocent emotions into a blessed garment of many colors, find theirdevelopment outside the domain of Thor. Such associations have thereno charming playtime, but forthwith make for permanent good orpermanent evil. 

Accordingly, for Gard, in his fond inclinations, there was noexperience with Cupids about the Bucher flower garden. Only, as itwere, a sort of rough sledding on broken, jolting ice! And he notedthe comparative absence of such delicate sentiment in Germanliterature. Aside from Heine, who became French, German letters haverelatively little to offer on this score. The very languagediscourages love-making. Since Heine's exile a century ago, theincreasing might of the armored Hohenzollerns had finally almostkilled all this. 

Gard was thrown out of gear in another way. Fräulein's lack not onlyof amatory complaisance but of social polish or even facility kepthim dubious and disconcerted. She brusquely alternated between asisterly tenderness of familiarity, almost exaggerated, only tofollow it by a sudden, disquieting flop over on the side of aformality as stiff as buckram. She would be as distant as if theywere two boarders having a tiff in a _pension_. These detachmentswere not because of anything Kirtley had done or said. They formeda natural example of Gothic undevelopedness in human relations, therude unevenness of beginners. 

But, then, he forgave her for this. 

"Is she not extremely occupied--full of pursuits? How admirable!"

It shamed him, spurred him on not a little. For days he would onlysee her at the generous meals where she exclaimed over her dread ofgetting fat. That usually furnishes a German with an excuse forbeing helped to more. She dutifully played of an evening in thefamily orchestra, yet this was a musical, not a social, happening. The severe if rich harmonies that were favored, largely with theidea of drill, created generally an atmosphere of austerity. 

She could not understand Gard's offers to carry her umbrella overher to a class or to bring her a storm coat in case of need. Suchattentiveness meant intrusions almost to be resented. She appearedto frown upon any kindly little considerations that should have beenagreeable to her or at any rate convenient. She had been brought upto do everything for herself. There was nothing of the clinging vineabout her. Young German women are not expected to lean upon men inthis wise. 

Presents of candy or what-not are looked upon with an inquisitive ordoubtful eye, especially by the parents. For the German girl has nocharming secrets from her father and mother. They must know all, with immediate conjectures about marriage. Troubling gifts, consequently, became rather out of the question with Gard. 

He feared that Fräulein Elsa might reflect sometimes the feeling ofunfriendliness which he was aware of in the supercilious Rudi. Thelatter exhibited a negligent attitude of indifference toward Gard, though it was cloaked under casualness. There was a sinister airabout the young engineer, and she would be bound to followsubmissively anyone breathing the military ozone. 

Under all these unsettling circumstances, Kirtley's uncertainattachment for the German language did not increase by PeterSchlemihl strides. Besides, his regular teacher was something like awild boar. He had proceeded to dragoon Gard as if he were a lad. AndHerr Keller's person was offensive. He exhaled a smell unpleasant ifscholastic. Dressed in a soiled, shiny, black garb, and with abristly mustache and beard which often showed egg of a morning, hetalked blatantly of having been in Paris as a soldier in '70. It washis one excursion out of Saxony. 

Even the German language at such a cost was not very inviting. Finally Gard received a curt note to the effect that if he were notmore assiduous, the lessons would better end. Herr Keller did notwant to be bothered with triflers. 

"Bounced from school!" Kirtley exclaimed. It was the first time. Hetook advantage of this opportunity to discontinue. 

He could see that his hosts did not blame the professor. Why, he wascapable of forcibly drilling the Teuton language and literature intoa post hole. This doubtless confirmed Kirtley's failure as a studentin their eyes. And this was to be looked for in Americans who thinkthat they can acquire knowledge and know life by gadding about and"observing, " instead of by book study. The awful German languageseemed doomed to blast Gard's affectionate hopes. 

While his burgeoning amorousness met with such blightingencouragement in the direction of Fräulein Elsa, it encounteredunexpectedly an immense and yearning bosom in another quarter. Fräulein Wasserhaus, next door, clamored for a mate. With cowlikesimpleness she almost bellowed out for love. Of an age verging onthe precarious she waddled into and out from Villa Elsa with bulgingbreasts so bared, under the transparent pretenses of white gauze, that Frau Bucher declared herself shocked. She said that theWasserhaus was trying to be a part of the disgraceful Naked _Kultur_that had been assailing Germany. 

When this bovine soul came to know of Kirtley's presence, shefastened her consuming desires upon him. She had a brother inAmerica and actively developed a hankering to go there and be nearhim. Yoking up with a Yankee would be a most natural and fittingstate in which to negotiate the Atlantic. 

As the Bucher wall was too high for her to hang over in herlanguishing ardors, she hung over her gate to offer a book or atiger lily to Gard as he passed. Several times when thepachydermatous Tekla banged her way upstairs with an armful ofutensils in her work, a bouncing compote or other unabashed delicacywould be tumbling about on a dustpan or a slop basin, bound for theattic room by the linden tree. Twice a belabored missive accompaniedthese little couriers, anxiously quoting some anguishingsentimentality from one of the household poets writhing amid thepages of the affecting Gartenlaube. 

It was at first so bothersome that Gard contemplated leaving theneighborhood. Even the Buchers, truest of prosy Germans, couldgrasp the ridiculousness of this situation, and it was the one itemof noisy fun they could fall back upon when they wished to beespecially entertaining. 

"Mein Gott!" the Frau would cry out when going over her troubles andarduous occupations. "And I've got to get a husband for theWasserhaus yet!" The Herr often went into a deafening rage about it. 

"Is there no way to keep that lachrymose female out of my house withher belated calf-love? She annoys the good Herr Kirtley. " And hewould toddle out, slamming the door like a clap of thunder. 

The family assumed a very self-conscious behavior when the lornmaiden was mentioned, and were anxious Gard should know that, whileunfortunately she was their neighbor, she was not at all of theirstratum. 

"Poor girl!" Gard mused. There were nearly half again as many womenas men in Saxony. 

At last he came to know there seemed to be a mystery about FräuleinElsa--something which was hidden from him. And a new and deeperinterest was summoned forth from within his breast. Occasionally attable she was silent as a mile stone. Some days she did not appearto his sight at all. And then, when he did see her, she evidentlywanted to avoid him. Very true it was that she often pored over thelittle volume of Heine in her room without a word to anyone. But, ofa sudden, she would become frankly in evidence again--a floral andquite superb girl, resolutely "making good, " as was her wont. 

"What is it?" Gard wondered. 

None of the family ever referred to it. Even in his intimate talkswith her mother, whom Gard now and then practiced his German upon asshe was plying her needle, nothing was divulged. There was no youngGerman coming to the house with regularity. Consequently, could itbe love difficulties? Yet something was wrong. It lent respect toElsa, threw enhancement about her. 

Gard concluded that the roughness of the Bucher family lifemortified her. It was often well-nigh outlandish. How could shehave so ardently studied the beautiful in music and colors withoutrealizing this?

But he had not been long enough in Germany to be advised thatknowledge is not expected there to enter into the inner life. Whatone is has little in common with what one knows or can dexterouslydo. Study does not pass into character. The German, with all hisacquirements, does not look for moral or esthetic effect upon theheart or soul. 

German women esteem the strong fighter, the rugged accomplisher theboisterous enthusiast, among their men. Whether these are atheistic, immoral, boorish, cruel, are considerations of secondary importance. The daughters marry them with little hesitation. Men are men, supreme, to be adored. Women are to be tolerated, stepped on, satupon. Man is the master, woman is the willing servant. 

CHAPTER IX

A JOURNALIST

Gard's experience in perfecting himself in German met with anotherrebuff. Under the prompting of his parental friends in Villa Elsa heconcluded at length to attend a course of lectures given by acelebrated professor who was, however, known to be of anexceptionally cantankerous disposition. Kirtley had become aware ofthe querulous restrictions and exactions attending the most peacefulGerman activities and made sure of his ground at the class room, whither he went one morning with encouraging expectations. He askedthe janitor if the hearings were free and public. They were. 

It was the usual amphitheater and Gard entered to find only a fewregular students down in the front rows. He decided on a seat alonein the center. Herr Professor, be-spectacled, soon clambered up onthe rostrum and squatted dumpily. Blear-eyed he scanned the placeand blurted out:

"There is a stranger in the room. The lecture will not proceed untilhe departs. " Gard, having been assured by the janitor, could notimagine that he himself was meant. The man of prodigious learningshouted angrily, throwing out his arm toward Kirtley:

"Must I repeat that there is a foreigner in the audience? I shallnot begin until his presence has been removed. "

Gard went away, incensed. Surely, he swore to himself, Teutonerudition acts so often like a mad bear ready to claw away at menand things. He never attended another day lecture. 

But he had to get on with his German. He decided to put anadvertisement for an instructor in the Dresden _Nachrichten_. At its_bureau_ he ran counter to a lot of ifs and ands at the hands of asurly young clerk. A German, naturally gruff, only needs a smallposition to increase his acerbity. His newspapers display, likewise, a disagreeable officiousness, being nearly always, to some extent, bureaucratic organs. They are lords, not servants, of the public. They do not appear to want your business, your money. 

Gard's imperfect German balked him, too. After he had been back andforth to the little window three or four times, trying to alter his"ad" to suit the rasping individual whose face Gard could scarcelycatch a glimpse of by stooping down to the aperture, an Americanstepped forward. He was a steel gray man of about sixty and wasinserting a notice. He said he was familiar with all the rigors ofsuch a proceeding, being a correspondent for the Chicago _Gazette_. 

"Perhaps I can help, " volunteered Miles Anderson. "After having hadscraps and fights about this sort of thing around this country forseven years--though the Germans won't fight--I've finally got thehang of it. You can save three or four words by a different jargon. I can see you are an American because you take up more room aboutthis than necessary. German economy, you must remember. "

Gard was glad to find a friend of his race. And after theadvertisement was disposed of, they repaired to a neighboring beerhall to refresh and relieve their feelings. Anderson wassmooth-shaven, with piercing gray eyes under bushy eyebrows, hishead presenting the appearance of just having been in a barber'schair. With the insistent curiosity of a practiced interviewer hewanted to know why Kirtley had come to this godless land; where hewas hanging out; and all about the Buchers. 

A bachelor, Anderson had become toughened by hotel and _pension_. Hethought Kirtley very fortunate in getting right into a family wherethe veritable German bloom had not been rubbed off by foreigners, byboarders. It would be a most fragrant experience. Here Kirtley wouldsee on the native heath the genuine German of the great middle classthat makes up the might of the nation. 

"Can you read German comfortably?" asked Anderson. "What do you makeof it? I've been studying it for seven years and sometimes it seemsas if I hadn't got much further than the verb to hate. "

"You can't give me any short cuts about it, then?" laughed Gard. 

"Yes, I can--yes, I can. Here's a little compilation and analysis ofthe irregular verbs, " explained his new acquaintance, pulling agreen brochure from his pocket. "Only costs a mark. You can get asecond-hand one at the book stalls by the Augustus bridge. I alwayscarry it with me and con it over and over. Good for thepronunciation. If you get the irregular verbs of a language well fedinto your system, you've got the language by the windpipe. 

"Then buy _Simplicissimus_. You'll pick up a good deal fromthat--the popular expressions, the phrases and exclamations that aregoing. If you learn to use the exclamations, it makes youinteresting and well-liked. It gives the other fellow the chance todo the talking. _Simplicissimus_ and that kind of thing are betterthan the dry, stilted German classics--'Ekkehard, ' 'Nathan derWeise' and all that discarded stuff. But remember that _esprit_ wasnot given the Germans, because it would hide their Boeotianstupidity. "

"I haven't yet seen--I suppose I shall see"--said Kirtley, "why thegeneral American student like me is so persistently encouraged tocome to Germany. Why is it?"

"Because we are damn fools, " heartily rejoined Anderson. "TheGermans don't have education. They have instruction. The one makesgentlemen. The other makes experts. It is hard for an expert to be agentleman. They don't have gentlemen in Germany. No such word intheir language. It is a nation of experts, but that's precisely thereason it should be feared. Why, education would teach a German notto slobber at his meals. 

"It is his strenuous ingrowing instruction that cultivates hisextreme national egotism until it has become like a boil. His racialegoism helps obscure the obscure sunlight here in Germany and blindshim. He has to wear spectacles. It is a natural cry, his cry for aplace in the sun. "

"Should I have gone to England or France?" suggested Gard. 

"Yes. At any rate, not here. The German procedure roughens the fiberand lowers the moral standards of the general student. Instructionhere is along mental and manual lines. The Teuton is meant to be aspecialist. He is competent but not refined. "

The two compatriots gossiped along about this and that. 

"I'm having a devil of a time sleeping on my bed, " confessed Gard. "You ought to know about German beds. How do you get on with them?"

"The German bed helps to give the German his bad disposition. I puttwo beds side by side and sleep across the middle. That's one way tofool the German bed. If I saw yours I might be able to suggestsomething. "

Anderson frankly expressed a desire to visit the Loschwitz home. Soon Gard's invitation they had lunch and went out to his suburb. 

CHAPTER X

SPIES AND WAR

They took off the bed clothes, including the two huge featherbolsters in the center. 

"These bolsters are for the gingerbread effect that the German likeseverywhere, " explained the visitor. They examined the remainingconstruction. It was narrow and short. It suggested a granite-likebase. 

"Rock of Ages!" commented Anderson. "As you can't ask for anadditional bed, all I can see is for you to swill beer and then youdon't care where you sleep. That's the way the Germans do. "

The journalist appeared disappointed in not meeting any of thefamily that first day. Frau was overwhelmed in kitchen duties andnot presentable. The other members were away, working, working. Anderson had to be contented with Gard's description of them, afterthe latter had passed the cigars. 

"Who's the spy in your family?" abruptly asked the elder. 

"The spy?"

"Yes, the spy. Every well-regulated German family should have a spyin it. "

"What for?" queried Kirtley in surprise. 

"Why, for the Kaiser, of course. Who else? The Teutons call himeuphemistically the Government. But without Wilhelm there wouldn'tbe any German Government. "

"Why should he want spies in his own German families?" interrogatedGard innocently. 

"Didn't every medieval feudal lord keep close tab on hissubjects--the people he owned? The Kaiser wants to know of any signsof disloyalty. If a household harbors any foreigners, as your familyis doing, he wants to know what they are up to. "

"Do you mean to say that the Government knows about me--that I'mbeing watched?"

"They are at least ready to watch you. Mind you, Germany is a realblock-house, and the elaborate spy system is an integral part of it. I should say, from what you tell me of the Buchers, that youngRudolph is the sleuth here. "

"Rudolph?"

"Yes. He's doubtless keeping an eye on you and reporting to theauthorities if there's anything suspicious about you and youractions. "

And then the journalist, pleased to have a fresh listener, launchedupon his pet idea. 

"The Kaiser is preparing an abysmal pitfall for the world and itwon't take heed. I tell you, Kirtley--and I want you to mark mywords--Deutschland is going to spring at Europe like a tiger. Thearmy and navy are ready for the onslaught. When they spring, it willbe farewell to civilization--except the German--unless somethinglike a miracle supervenes. The French army is being moth-eaten bythe Socialists, the British navy has dry rot. I look to see Wilhelmpractically the ruler of the earth. If not, he will cause it to paya cost that will make the next fifty years groggy. "

Kirtley thought this was jesting. He later learned that the "oldman" was regarded as "cracked" on this topic. Every spring heprophesied war, but it had not come. The Kaiser failed to rush toParis and there dictate terms to an astounded and cowed universe. People politely laughed in their sleeves. Yes, Anderson was a finefellow, but they wearied of his dismal forebodings that came tonaught. Some said it was because German had been hard for him tolearn. He had taken it up when more than fifty and had becometangled in its snarling roots--its beer-drunken syntax. "He had gotmad at the language. " It was natural that he should get mad at thepeople. 

Gard saw a light. 

"Perhaps, " he said, "that's what the Buchers really mean about theGerman army conquering everybody whenever it wants to. "

"That's it, that's it!" Anderson was gratified by the confirmation. He went on with grave seriousness. 

"I'm a journalist. I have opportunities to see behind the curtain, haven't I? I have been at the army maneuvers, at the officers'messes and dinners, when they were sober and when they were drunk. Beer loosened their tongues and they did not care. They talk of it, boast of it, and the civilian, too. I'm telling no secrets. They arevery frank about it. Don't you hear the Buchers openly discussingit? They all give us warning and we say it's a fine day. Did youever read any of the Kaiser's speeches in German? There you find itall. But he's crazy, they say. Crazy or not, he has the mostthoroughly organized and powerful nation behind him that the globeever saw. And behind him to a man. "

"Why don't you write it up, then--tell people over home?" Gardventured, somewhat impressed. 

"Write it up? Tell people? That's what I _have_ been doing for fiveyears. But what's the use of shouting to a world of fools? No onewill pay any attention to it. My paper sends my stuff back and saysit don't want war talk--it wants peace talk. Americans are happy andthey don't want to be disturbed. They only want to hear about whatthey want to believe. So it seems to be everywhere. "

"I guess you are right about that, " Gard testified. "I have been apretty fair reader of our papers and periodicals and have never beenmade to feel there was any need for alarm. "

"Exactly, " Anderson scolded. "Why, look at our Exchange professors. They are coming over here, ready to swallow the Germans whole. TheKaiser invites them to lunch on his yacht, gives them a pat on theshoulder blade, and they are his. While the Germans plainly despiseus, our educators go home crying Great is Germany! How superior areher people! Let us send our sons over there to drink of her wisdomand grandeur! What inanity! Bah!"

"And so here I am, " Gard smiled. "But I have bunted into you almostthe first thing. "

"Couldn't do better--couldn't do better, " repeated Anderson with acheering turn. "I'll tell you what to do. I'll give you a littlepractical advice--free. "

"It won't be worth much if it's free, will it?"

"Well, it's worth this rotten German cigar you've given me. Read theeditorials and correspondence in the Dresden papers. They're a goodsample. There you'll see what the German attitude toward us isofficially, and what German hatred feeds on day by day. The troublewith Americans over here is they don't read anything serious. Ofcourse our students study their text books. But generally our peoplejust fly around, hear music, drink beer in the cafés, but they don'tread. Too nervous--afraid of being bored. So they don't learn much. "

Anderson ran on into other subjects. 

"One great thing about the German system is that it would make suchpeople work to some purpose. We don't. It also makes its plodderswork. This Government recognizes frankly that most of itspopulation, like all populations, are plodders, and it gives themsomething regularly to do and sees that they do it. This convertsthis dull element into an organized strength--a source of power. TheGermans practice their wonderful economies with respect to thepoorest kind of human energy. They kick something into their drones. So they are such a mighty nation in a small land. 

"In America, in other countries, this element is rather adisorganized weakness. It is not pushed. It is for the most partwaste material or neglected material. Our public system, wheneconomies are concerned, first considers money, property. It seemssometimes as if our free individualistic plan of government were, after all, adapted for the minority of the bright-witted. "

CHAPTER XI

GERMAN WAYS

"Had the Buchers ever known an American before you came?" Andersoninterrupted himself. 

"No. "

"How do you think they like you?"

"I guess if I dropped out of their lives, I would not create much ofa splash. "

"You'll find they hate you. Hate is the German religion. The Germanscan hate people they've never known, never seen. They hate onprinciple and without principle. Of course it's the proper precursorfor their programme of conquering the world. If they were trying tolove the world, they could not be preparing to demolish it andexpecting to. "

Though Anderson had lived so long among the Teutons, he had notbecome Teutonized. He was a marked exception. He viewed the nationwith a metallic aplomb that at times sent shivers down Kirtley'sspine. 

"Now this family of yours, " he went on discursively--"don't younotice about them and in them and behind them something tremendouslyunifying and propelling that is lacking in our American home?"

"I certainly do, " responded Gard. "I can't make it out--theirdynamic, conscientious industry. What is it for? It's not with theidea of making money--like Americans, eager to accumulate thedollars. It's not for personal fame. It's not for any ambitioussocial position. It does not seem to be for any of the reasons thatinspire an American household. And yet it is here, in this house, inevery room, behind every chair at table, night and morning. It'sbigger than anything we find in our Yankee life because it's beyondand higher than mere individuality. It makes the Buchers satisfiedand still is something that has fearfulness lurking about it. It'snot religious or divine--they are not actuated by such motives, donot speak of them. What in the world is it that the Germans havethat is so wonderful and we do not seem to have?"

Kirtley had thought a great deal about this and talked almostfluently. 

"I'll tell you, " and the old correspondent, bent forward toward himearnestly, glad that he had a young, receptive mind opened outtoward him. "I'll tell you. It's simply the Hohenzollern in his madand unconcealed pride about ruling the universe. He is in everyGerman home like this, driving each individual to work the best, tomake the most of himself and of herself, and without loss of time. He makes them understand that it's for the great German race--thatthey may become the potent force everywhere--leaders of mankind ashe has taught them they deserve to be. It is for the benefit oftheir more and more deserving nation. But it is first and foremostfor himself and his family. He has a burning, itching desire toreign everywhere. He is not a normal man physically and isunbalanced by a monumental vanity--arrogance--egotism. 

"When your Frau is so busily sewing, she is sewing for herhousehold, it is true, but she is consciously and unconsciouslysewing for Wilhelm. When your Fräulein goes out to her etchinglesson, she is aware of being of the magnificent German people, andshares a part of the national ambition to excel. It's this that wehaven't got in America and can't well have under our system. Butit's this unified, disciplined zeal that enables two or threeordinary Germans to do what it takes four ordinary Yankees to do. Clad in armor and with a glistening sword in hand, Germania ought toscare men, and they are not taking the warning. 

"But, Kirtley, it scares me. I feel--see--something awful coming. Inthe universal German hate, the national boundary stops any flowoutward of sympathy, good faith, equity. All peoples outside arehuman insects whom it is proper for the Teuton to tread on if hecan, crush the life out of, because they are in his pathway toglory. "

Kirtley, who had stared at his new friend in this solemnity, turneda serious face toward the clawlike branches of his linden in itsgauntness of late autumn-tide. This meaning of the animus that wasimpelling his odd and yet so normal German household, he began tosee, was substantiated by a score of acts and attitudes in its dailylife. He scarcely deemed it proper to tell of them. 

Besides, he did not want to fire up Anderson who already was sounsettled, so comfortless, on the subject. But Kirtley was reasoningout how this animus gave a solidity, a solidarity, to the Germanhousehold--a satisfied contentment--because it was working toward adefinite racial goal. Any such incentive was almost absent in theAmerican family. 

"And so, " wound up Anderson with epigrams, "the years will be lefthumanity to weep these days of _insouciance_ and neglect. You cansee that Germany is a man-made nation. It is not the kind God orNature would make. God must have turned His face when the Teutonspecies was manufactured. Germany is like a man-made hot airregister. When it isn't throwing up hot air, it is throwing up coldair. It is always throwing up. "

To change the somewhat painful theme, Kirtley soon began:

"I don't see any sports--such as we know them--in Germany. How dothey get along without them?" Like all Yankee college men he wasalert on these lines. 

"No sports in Deutschland. Go out on the Dresden golf links of amorning and you'll find hardly a German soul playing. It's the samein Vienna--the same in Berlin. They have links because it's thefashion in England. The Germans ape everything. Go out on thehighway to Berlin or Vienna or any of the great roads and you willseldom meet any Germans touring in their motors for pleasure. OnlyAmericans--English. The Germans are spoiling little time by suchmatters. They are busy--busy working for their Empire--busy likemoles boring away to undermine the earth--busy drilling with arms. 

"So you see no sporting terms incorporated in their daily language, in their newspaper language, such as we see in England andAmerica--terms denoting fair play, square deal, manly courtesytoward the under dog. Our Anglo-Saxon motto, 'Don't hit him whenhe's down, ' is no motto with the Germans. They think that's just thetime _to_ hit him. Kick him when he's flattened out. Kick himpreferably in the face. That's one reason so many Teutons havescarred faces. The Anglo-Saxon spirit in a sporting crowd is for thelittle fellow. In Germany, it's for the big fellow--the fellow whoalready has everything on his side. 

"This sort of thing, of course, kills the true idea and fun ofsport. Take away its knightliness of bearing, spirit ofself-sacrifice, exhibition of pluck though defeat is certain, andwhat have you left to sport about? It merely becomes a question ofbrute force--overwhelming force. You have cruelty left as a netresult. And that's a large part of German conduct--cruelty tounderlings or to those who are feebler or caught at an unfairdisadvantage. Having no leaven of sports is one thing that makes theGerman life seem so heavy, ominous, brutal, to us. "

"Its growling rigidity, with all this, " Anderson continued gravely, "is due to the fact that the old men are mainly in the saddle inGermany--men sixty and seventy. The existence and influence of youngmen are not as much in command as with us. These old Germans havedisgruntled stomachs from so much drinking, and they roar about. Physical sports mean nothing to them. And so it seems sometimes asif the Germans are born old, not young. Their children are old. Thishelps make them such a serious race--the most serious. And yetpeople insist on believing that this serious race means nothing butfun by all its military preparations. Where's the logic?". .. 

When the journalist went, Kirtley let him through the wall gate withits weighted rope. The gate flew back in place with a loud report asif to give emphasis to the old man's direful interpretations andprophecies. 

CHAPTER XII

HABITS AND CHILDREN

In spite of Anderson, Gard could not make up his mind that Rudolphwas anything more than a young braggadocio. The idea of an ordinaryfamily living comfortably along with a spy in its midst, ready toinform on them and their guests, was so foreign to his notions, socaddish, that it weakened his confidence in his compatriot'sjudgment. While Gard felt that Rudi was not "straight, " he could notconsider him downright harmful. However, under the spur of thevaluable significance that Anderson attached to this typicalhousehold life, Kirtley felt it profitable to observe closely itsmanifestations and opinions. They were verified in other Germanfamilies where Gard often went with the Buchers. What could be moretruly educational?

In defiance of the famous Teuton discipline, a certaindisorderliness ran through the management of Villa Elsa. Thissurprised him. The eruptive way meals were served, the jumbled-upspectacle of the dining table, beds made up at any time of day, knitting and sewing going on in many rooms--all this was inunforeseen contrast to the rigorous military and educationaltraining and precision. He could but compare the _genre_ picture oflooseness in the homes with that of the correct and fine army. 

The inadequate, almost primitive, bathing facilities in Villa Elsacorresponded to the unscoured condition of its occupants. Theunsightly hairiness of German skins seemed to answer for muchwashing. There was little thought of soap and hot water as a law ofhealth, a delight, a luxury. Kirtley had assumed that soiled bodiesdid not betoken the loftiest state of man. But the bath was lookedupon here as a disagreeable performance and accordingly was onlyindulged in at infrequent intervals. It was discussed freely attable as a forthcoming, dreaded event. Gard bathed in town. As forfresh underwear and hose, they were talked of over soup like somenew and rare dispensation of Providence. 

Fräulein alone had a toothbrush and powder, and they appeared ratherconspicuously here and there as if they were modern ornaments ofwhich the household was visibly proud. Bad breaths coming fromdecayed teeth and from stomachs sour with drink were freely blownabout and without apologies. Indeed, apologies about anything weresmall features at all times. 

There was no particular provision for the maid. Gard scarcely knewwhere or how she slept. Tekla dressed with unconcern in the kitchenand in the hall. Servant girls were rather considered like calvesand therefore entitled to scant human consideration. The odors, theunsightly colors, the clatter of the German home, gave furtherevidence of the absence of sensitiveness, of any fine and balancedpoise of nerves. 

This repulsiveness of existence, of course, did not affect theaudible consciousness of the family about their representing themost progressive state of civilized man. And not to be forgotten wasthe German ill-temperedness, which was pronounced in the morning, and did not wear off considerably until stomachs were filled duringthe day. All these facts testified that the Teuton little cultivatesloveliness in human contact. Beauty of living is not, with him, anatural end to attain. 

After awhile it came over Kirtley that the Buchers showed nointerest in his antecedents or in his country. Their apparentignorance of America was rivaled by their indifference about it. They evidently were of the firm conclusion that there was nothingworth while there to learn, nothing worthy of attention. It was, tothem, an unprofitable jumble of peoples and things in a rudimentary, unvarnished state of development. It was Patagonia trying to copythe ways of Europe. This was but a feature of the Teuton tribalbelief that all the racial evolutions outside the German borderswere undesirable, demoralizing and mischievously blocking theoutspread of _Kultur_. 

Gard could not but know of the limited income on which existencewent on at Villa Elsa. It was characteristic. Though limited, theincome was _secure_. Despite the economies practiced, the prevailingconfidence and self-satisfaction did not suffer, as a result, theslightest impairment. It was significantly German. 

Gard said to himself:

"There are here none of the spectacular ups and downs, everlastingsudden changes and movings to and fro, riches one year, poverty thenext, the unsettledness and acute money misfortunes, that make up solarge a share of our feverish, restless, uncertain Yankee careers. There does not seem to be a synonym for 'hard up' in German. As forus Americans the habitual changes of location of the household, theseparation of the parents for reasons of business, travel, orinharmonious temperaments, the resultant ever-growing crop ofdivorces, the frequent living apart of the children, both fromfathers and mothers and from the home, the loose family ties andignoring of kin who are not of the most immediate relationship--howfar is all this from the steady, compact, solid, unanxious andunthreatened examples of Villa Elsa and German households ingeneral!"

The Teutons had a paternal Government which they knew would not letthem come to want. Their firesides could thrive and accomplishgreatly on so small a basis because this was stationary andunfailing. The American needed so much more because, with him, allwas relatively unsafe. While he hesitated about rearing a largefamily for this reason among others, the German had no such thoughtof dodging the future, for he knew his children would be taken careof. 

In fact, he raised his progeny conspicuously for the State. Parentalfeeling was secondary to the Kaiser's wishes. The Bucher children, like usual German children, were in effect dedicated to theGovernment, consecrated to its uses. It could come in and did comein and take this boy or girl for that and that one for this. It haddesignated Rudi for hydraulic engineering and indicated hisuniversity course to that end. Ernst was selected for philosophy. The parents were not only willing but proud of this. It was not forthem to resent such outside interference because of any personallikes of their own. 

Gard wrote Rebner:

"In America, the child's future is somewhat a matter of buffetingback and forth aimlessly between teacher and parent. The latter isdisposed to shirk the responsibility by leaning on the shoulders ofthe instructor who is inclined to keep shifting the burden back tothe home. As a result, while the German youngster is early beingadapted to a particular future course for which Nature has given himan aptitude, his American competitor is often left to drift throughthe years without definite ambition, or at least with only a belatedor partly drilled preparation therefor. "

In Germany, Kirtley observed, the Government stood as the realfather. The actual father was its representative. The mother playeda subsidiary rôle. All was the father idea. The Germans call itFatherland, not Motherland, as the English affectionately term theirown country. 

This interposition of the State in the Teuton family weakens thelinks of personal tenderness. The State rather than Love rules thehome. Hence resulted the unfeelingness that Kirtley observed in thelife about him in Loschwitz--the roughness so little tempered withaffection, but, instead, frankly interpreted and exhibited as thetrue bearing of the dominant male's masculine nobility. 

Quite normally, then, came about the extensive amount of open andviolent quarreling which Gard noticed in the households. In VillaElsa the Herr quarreled with the Frau, each quarreled with thechildren, they quarreled with Tekla, and she took it out on thedogs. It was not disputing among self-respecting equals, butill-humored domineering over those who were confessedly underneath. 

CHAPTER XIII

DOWN WITH AMERICA!

The German text books that came in Gard's way proved the nationalcraze for what was Deutsch, _echt Deutsch_, to the exclusion of whatwas not. It was almost a ferocity of inbreeding instruction. Itcreated the _furor Teutonicus_. The Hohenzollerns used education asa prod to madden the Germans. It kept stirred up, with increasingexaggeration and rage, the racial rabidness on the subject of othernations. 

Kirtley still did not believe that this reached to America andAmericans, for which topics, as already indicated, the Buchers hadshown small curiosity in their intercourse with him, seldommentioning the names. But his eyes were abruptly opened wide withastonishment and concealed indignation one evening at dinner. 

It was a habit for the family, when nothing was pressing, to remainat table discussing this and that, nearly always providing the themewas German. He encouraged this because he could learn from thewell-stocked information which the members possessed about Germanyand the Germans, and for the further reason of conversationalopportunities. 

It may be best to try to reproduce the scene in outline as itoccurred. The talk had fallen upon governments, nations, peoples--ageneral field of inquiry for which Kirtley had had some predilectionat college. The vast superiority of the German Government had beenagain, as often before, so emphasized in Villa Elsa that he felt nowthat he ought to raise a question. Should this overweeningassumption always pass unnoticed, unqualified?

It was partly because the foreigner avoided disputing with theGermans, who made discussion unpleasant by their acrid, dictatorialmanners and drowning diapasons, that their arrogance had so rapidlygrown out of bounds. They do not recognize courtesies in debate, flyoff the handle, burst in with interruptions on the half-finishedstatements and sentences of others. 

Besides, Kirtley had not yet fully learned that they have not thesame understanding of things, not the same definitions for the samewords. For instance, the Buchers insisted that the Germans had themost freedom of any nation. But their freedom meant something likethe liberty allowed in a prison yard. Free press? Yes, it was to befound in Deutschland in its highest state, since it was alwaysauthoritative. And there authority meant liberty of opinion. Again, thought was the most free and liberal there, because, as it seemed, the German was free to think just as the Kaiser thought. Equity?Equity was only what the Teutons wanted, and therefore of the mostdesirable type. And so on. 

Such differences were usually antipodal--diametrically opposed. Thereason, Gard worked out, was that in America and other democraticlands the significance of such words sprang from the common peopleupward. In Germany such interpretations proceeded essentially fromthe reigning family downward. Discussions under such circumstances, instead of leading toward mutual understanding, breed acrimony. There is little room for shadings, amicable approachments, progressin the direction of reciprocal enlightenment. 

It was a nest of blustering, pugnacious hornets which Kirtley pokedup on the evening in question, by asking:

"How do you prove that the German Government is the best?"

The Herr, taking his knife from his mouth--the Teuton eatsconspicuously with his knife--suddenly showed that he had evidently, in the presence of his American guest, long held himself in on thissubject with ill-feelings that clamored to be let loose. 

"Prove it? Prove it?" he hoarsely exclaimed. "It needs no proof. Everybody knows it. Could we have the greatest people without thebest Government? Could we have the best education without the bestGovernment? Why does everybody come to Germany to study? Why did_you_ come? It's because these things are true. Did you ever hear ofyoung Germans going elsewhere to universities? They do not need to. We have the best. "

The family were up in arms. Their Government had been questioned. Each member, with the exception of Fräulein, who was "at class, " wasbursting to talk about America. It had no army. Therefore itamounted to little. It had no higher education worthy of the name. It had only one institution that could claim to be called auniversity. It had no aristocracy. It was a country of low, lawlessclasses. These and similar sentences flew back at Kirtley, whoseface reddened. The mask was being at last hurled off. Whatself-control, indeed, had the family before maintained, when theywere so armed with displeasure concerning the United States! Hewould not have credited it. It was at least illuminating, ifblinding. For what could be the excuse, provocation? Nothing that hehad ever heard of. The two peoples had been so separate anddistinct. The words of Anderson rushed into his mind. "The Germanscan hate people they've never known, never seen. They hate onprinciple and without principle. "

Knives and forks figured in the air, beer mugs were grabbed andbanged down, napkins took refuge under the table as if in fright, to be indiscriminately dirtied under foot. The gulped down food, meeting the oncoming throaty expressions of irritability, createdmuch alimentary confusion. Gard almost trembled. Here he had beenfor weeks dwelling in a friendly society, in an intimaterelationship, without any realization of what ugly thoughts weresecretly leveled at him in the form of a political unit. As anindividual, he had been most welcome. As a citizen of the UnitedStates he was despised. The Herr vociferated:

"What is your country, tell me, what is your country? It is _nichts, nichts_. It is not a country. It is a ragout, a potpourri, a mess. We do not recognize such a country. It has no beginnings, notradition, no unity of blood, no ideals----" He choked and the Frauflared forth while attempting to crack a nut between her teeth. 

"The American people are the off-scourings of Europe. They werecriminals, atheists, diseased people, failures, who were sent awayfrom Europe. So they go and try to found a new race, a new nation. They try, but they fail of course. .. . "

When his mother got out of breath, little Ernst began with a milder, more judicial air, though he seemed partly to have memorizedofficial declarations. 

"Don't you think, Herr Kirtley, it stands to reason that ourreigning family, which is admitted to be honest and has practicedruling for centuries, knows better how to govern a race than thealways new and untried persons who keep taking the reins ofgovernment in a democracy? The Americans can never tell far aheadwho is to rule. There are changes all the time. How can the citizenprepare confidently for the future? How can he plan long ahead as wedo? I have always read that this is the reason things are so steadyand stable in Germany and so uncertain and wabbling in America. Thisuncertainty hanging over a republic unsettles its population. Youhave panics, lynchings, graft. We are free of such scourges. OurGovernment is always the same unit and to be relied on. If newpolicies are begun, it is there to carry them through to theirlogical end, even if it takes a generation or longer. You havealways new statesmen with new ideas. We no sooner learn to know ofone of your politicians than he is dropped and we must read aboutanother in control. How does that make for any well-considered andthoroughly demonstrated plans? Would it not be the natural resultthat the German people are completely contented and the Americanpeople are always discontented?"

Rudolph's excited pronouncements ran along a different line, interchanged with voluminous whiffs of tobacco. 

"Under our Government, Herr Kirtley, the German flag is seen in allparts of the globe. And wherever it is seen, it is respected, feared. Who ever sees the American flag? Even _I_ don't know what itlooks like. It is not feared. It is only noticed out of voluntarycourtesy. And a nation can't be really great without an army likeours. The army is the spine of the country. It makes a country avertebrate. What would even Germany be without its army? Almostnothing. The army consolidates, trains, disciplines. It gives ushealth, good constitutions, industrious habits, exactness. It makesa nation superior because it fortifies human effort. In the constantchanging of our regiments about to different sections of the Empire, our soldiers come to be well acquainted everywhere. They makefriends and are at home in every direction. They learn to realizehow great we are and this strengthens the German feeling and makesall parts of the nation one. 

"Of course we have the only first-class army. All our General Staffhas to do any day is to say the word and, as I have so often said, our army can go out and defeat the world. Our navy will soon be in aposition to destroy England's. We are getting her trade routes, hermail routes. Our goods are now selling everywhere. It is not onlybecause they are the best and the cheapest, but because our army andour navy stand behind them to _make_ people know what is best forthem. Every little German box of goods has a big gun behind it. Ofcourse we don't need to use the gun--_yet_--because people arecrying for our manufactures all over the world. If we had occupiedyour big and half-developed country in your place, we would havelong ago been the only great State. There would have been no others. We would have annihilated them if they were not willing to becomeGerman provinces. "

Rudi took a long pull at his cigarette, with his elbows outspreadlike the haughty wings of the Prussian eagles of war. Emitting along streamer of smoke, he summed up the whole thing in a nutshellwith a derisory--Pouf!

Kirtley was inwardly fired up with resentment. Then he had tosmother a laugh. This exhibition of the family taken off its guardwas more instructive than volumes of discussion he might read aboutthe true German attitude toward America--toward everyone. Were thesebut Goths with the German skins scratched off a little? He keptthinking of Anderson--how it furnished the pure evidence of what thelatter was despairing of before deaf ears! Gard's respect, hissympathy, for the old man, jumped up with patriotic fervor. 

He marveled at first how the good Buchers had been primed with thisknowledge, these comparisons. Then he realized that the editorialsand other articles in the Dresden journals, whose lengthy, heavy, pounding sentences confused with an obtuse, inverted syntax he wasreading at Anderson's suggestion, accounted for these venomousconceptions and prejudices. 

"So it is our duty to hate, " broke in the Herr once more, withcroaks and grunts now behind his long porcelain pipe which roveddown over his stomach, a green tassel dangling at the end. "We giveour children beatings to educate them, don't we? So we have the besteducation. We must give the world a beating to improve it. "

The Frau all the while could hardly restrain herself. 

"You know what we in Germany call Americans? We call thempigs--yes, _pigs_. America is like a big pig pen where everybody iswallowing over everybody for money--just for money. "

"And Germany, " added her elder son, "is just waiting till the UnitedStates gets money enough, then we go in with our _navy_ and our_army_ and take it all. "

Gard wanted to see how far they _would_ go, and he had seen. Wasthis the old barbarian of the north risen to earth again, his rudegarments of hide torn off, exposing him in his pristine, fightingnakedness? Where was the German under it all--the German who wastaken to be civilized in heart and spirit as other men are? Theselaw-abiding, stay-at-home people had deliberately grown in VillaElsa this robust plant of contempt, so full-blossomed now and readyto exhale its noisome fumes which at moments almost stifled Kirtleywith their poison. What would Rebner say to this with his golden, soul-felt opinions of the excelling race!

This hospitable and apparently harmless domicile was, in reality, like a martial encampment. Gard could not but conclude that he wouldhave to leave Loschwitz. How could he for a moment stay in face ofthese direct and hard-fisted attacks? And certainly Villa Elsa wouldnot want to harbor a hog any longer. The similar households he hadcome to know, all such households, unquestionably bore the samefurious grudges against the western hemisphere. 

But Elsa? How could he leave her--like this? She was the first girlto excite seriously his affections. She seemed to strike the note ofwhatever was truly earnest in him. Yet did she, too, think Americanswere pigs? Did she consider him of such an inferior breed? Perhaps, in her misled innocence, she did. Perhaps that was the reason whyshe acted toward him in an upsetting fashion which only the moretempted a certain tenacious element in his make-up. 

CHAPTER XIV

AFTERMATH

This astonishing outbreak in Villa Elsa was followed by somethingstill more singular to Kirtley, or at least out of his reckoning. Itwas to stir the depths of his contemplations and comparisons andgive him the sharpest look into German character he had yetreceived. It was to show him that a gaping abyss might be separatingthe Teuton from other western humanity. Having latterly doubted thatthe race was easy of sympathetic grasp, any true kinship, he nowprofoundly realized that instead of being able to approach it nearerin feeling the more he knew it, he was encountering very high cliffsthat threatened forever to mark an inaccessible boundary line. 

He had taken it for granted that the anti-American outburst wouldend the Buchers' relations with him. He must have turned out to bevery unwelcome. The very sight of him as one of the American pigsabout the house must have been most unsatisfactory, distasteful. They could not from now on visibly wish him or any Yankee in theirhome. Their personal dignity could not permit their assault to bebacked up afterward by any equivocal conduct toward him. 

Then, too, they would expect that he would not want to remain. Hadthey not voluntarily, deliberately, hurled at him their defiantscorn of his people? Self-respect would demand his immediatedeparture. 

As for himself, Gard passed a sleepless night thinking hotly aboutthe episode. Toward morning he cooled off. These were boors. Whyshould he take to heart their boorishness? Richness was here indeed. Just the place to keep finding out the real German. Having let thebars down with such a bang and hullabaloo, the family would from nowon readily and fully reveal themselves. It is a poor investigatorand observer who is easily shied away from his purpose by taunts andill-breeding. 

But the miracle was that the Buchers went on exactly as before. Theyobviously saw no reasons for altering their friendly dailyintercourse, nor did they have any idea that he should harbor agrievance. Beginning with the next morning, their usual amicablebearing and attentions continued uninterrupted. The family was notconscious of having tried to give mortal offense or to causeresentment from him. 

For, to a German, blows in all senses are a normal part of living. His social habits indulge themselves in knocks, coarse attacks, unseemly abuse, as rather matters of course. He wields a bludgeonwhere more refined men would cut down with sarcasm or wither onewith disdain. Blows are his natural method of instructing others andof getting himself instructed. "Good German blows" are what theKaiser talked of loudly. To strike as well as to kick is awholesome, healthful, righteous procedure, not to be grieved over, not to be kept rankling in the bosom. It is truth and fact inaction, and action should always be forceful and decisive to beeffective. The whipping of a school boy for any just cause shouldnot be remembered by him throughout life as something to be allowedto fester or as calling for angry vengeance. 

So Gard's hosts pursued the tenor of their ways as if thatdetonating night had witnessed nothing. Their insensitiveness aboutit included insensitiveness about him. In other words, he discoveredthat as you cannot insult a German, therefore he cannot insult you. He does not know about such things in the Anglo-Saxon meaning. Hisconception of social and moral values is so obtusely or radicallydifferent from those of the truly occidental civilizations thatthere is little common ground here. Consequently, in such relations, the Teuton does not feel anything to be sorry for. There is nothingfor him to worry about in any shame the next day. 

Kirtley learned gradually, through his dealings with tradesmen andin hearing business men talk in the cafés, that this underbredattitude extended into the German secular world. A German may cheatyou, lie to you, take a grossly unfair advantage of your good faith, but he will not expect that this is going to interfere with acontinuance of your business relations. It is only a part of thehard game of gain. If you indignantly enumerate to him the facts ofyour unpleasant discovery, he sees little about which to bear agrudge. He is not humiliated. He merely and unfortunately did notsucceed, or succeeded while unluckily you found him out. 

Likewise if one lies to him, cheats him or otherwise mistreats himin a transaction, he does not permanently lay it up against theevil-doer. For he knows he would have done the same thing undersimilar circumstances. He is prepared to go on next week with theusual dealings. Of course he will complain with prompt vigor, andrage in his favorite fashion, but it is only because of his materialloss or discomfort, not because of broken standards of trusted faithlying dishonored in the dust. 

All this alien side of German character thus came to be lain beforeGard like a scroll unrolled. He read its lines with eyes blinking inwonderment. And this was the people who were to lead the earth. 

The only part of it he felt the Buchers did not comprehend and weredisappointed about, was that he did not candidly acknowledge theporcine truth of all they had shouted at him. He was of aheterogeneous conglomeration called Yankees. He should admit it. Hewas stupid not to. For him not to join in the Bucher chorus ofGermany's greatness was a poor return for all they were doing forhis ease and profit. But he was an American and of course theAmericans--

It must be quickly acknowledged, it is true, that Kirtley'sexperiences and observations along these channels did notnecessarily show that the Teuton is less honest than others. Let itbe granted that he is fully as upright as anyone in the sum total ofhis commercial transactions. The point Gard uncovered was that herewere full-fledged race traits and habitudes which stood counter toChristian ideals, were pagan in type, were due to a lower stratum ofmoral and social perceptions. 

The explosion in Villa Elsa led him on to another revealment. Whatwas it but a rather puerile performance? Tactless, boisterousyoungsters blurt out the disagreeable sentiments of a household. TheBuchers had acted like children. Laying aside all question of thewonderful German trained mind, knowledge, efficiency, Gard observedso much that was boy-like and girl-like in the adult Teuton life. Nocountry has such a wealth of toys and juvenile story books asGermany. The Teuton weaves his nursery tales, so grotesque andstrikingly cruel, into his grown-up years. All this influencecontinues with him and affects him strongly as long as he lives. Themature German can kick, sulk, whine, much as his offspring do. Whenirritated he can easily act like an _enfant terrible_. 

What is quaint, droll, distorted, comically ugly, or of agingerbready effect, in Germany, is the expression of this childishstrain. And it appeals particularly there to the youthfulness thatremains in the hearts of visiting foreigners. It is accordingly oneof the most popular Teuton aspects, especially among women and theyoung. 

CHAPTER XV

MILITARY BLOCKHEADS

Gard's attentions to Elsa continued intermittently, and as ifdetached, on their unadvancing course. He had, however, reached thestage of playing piano duets with her. This is always hopeful. Occasionally they rambled through Schubert's little Vienna lovewaltzes and other selections that could top off an evening withmelodies of a sprightly and sentimental nature. He felt he wasbecoming acquainted with her in a way he otherwise could not. Shewas more cheerful at these times, exhilarated by the music. 

He had learned a large part of his playing by ear. Reading at sightwas a fresh experience. She corrected his fingering while helpingfill out his conversational vocabulary. It was certainly mostagreeable to have Fräulein take his fingers in her warm, plump, flexible hand with conscientious authority and show him the methodof the Dresden Conservatoire. 

Think of a young and lustrous miss being able to instruct him like aveteran! He had never considered American girls in such a light--hadnever expected to learn anything of profitable skill from them. Elsa, for her part, regarded it as a curious and amusing experienceto watch this tall man playing like a boy. The musical Germans sheknew were adept at some instrument. 

He formed the habit of adding _en_, or its variants, to the Englishequivalent of the German word he could not think of, and she seemedto be struck by this as a very original fashion of elicitinginformation. On one occasion at the piano they heard the entrancebell below clang, announcing a visitor, and Gard, hastening todisappear upstairs, exclaimed:

"Wir müssen--wir müssen--_stopfen_!"

The word for stop would not come to him. Fräulein blushed andsnickered and ran off to tell her mother about Herr Kirtley and hisGerman. He was frightened. What absurdity had he uttered? He got tohis dictionary as soon as he could and found he had said--We mustdarn stockings!

The incident nearly always put Elsa in good humor. She doubtlessconsidered Yankees an odd folk. How could they expect to becomecivilized with their rudimentary attainments? Must he not be seemingto her a sort of freak?. .. 

But, for the most part, she continued to hold him aloof, and heconcluded the reason lay in the mystery which shadowed her younglife and to which he could trace no clue. What could it frankly bethat sent her to her room and to Heine? The beginning of the answerseemed to come at last in the form of a youth who suddenly soared inat Villa Elsa. 

Herr Friedrich von Tielitz-Leibach was a composer and a musicdirector. He was the son of a neighbor who had moved away, and themusical Buchers doted on him as one with a shining future. Kirtleyhad often heard them refer to Friedrich as to so many of theirfriends of whom he knew nothing. 

When Friedrich called, at very rare intervals, it was always awonderful day. The steady, stolid routine of the home becameperturbed, gladdened. He was a German of Hungarian extraction, andthe Magyar blood gave him a dash and sparkle. He was tall, verythin, with the intellectual look that black-rimmed glasses produce. His eyes harmonized in color with the black shock of tossing hairthat set off a distinguished appearance. And, like a traditionalvotary of music, he wore a great black cloak swinging around himwith an operatic air, giving the impression that he was just goingto or coming from the theater. 

Highly agitated, gilded with flattery, readily acquainted, hebubbled over promptly in confidences and intimate allusions. He wasever brimming with the freshest gossip of himself and his exaltedcareer; and his personal experiences, he assumed, were bound to beunique and entertaining. 

Making friends with everyone, he insisted on calling on Gard up inthe attic room, pleased to welcome such an "excellent person"--as hehad heard downstairs--to the fold of the family. But did they notlead such dull, stagnant, imbecile lives, moored here in thisstodgy, out-of-the-world suburb, where so many idiots live whowonder how the world can come to an end when it's round? Friedrichtruly hoped Herr Kirtley would not be bored to death. 

To-day the musician had finished with his final military examinationand was at last free from ever having to serve. He made a divertingstory of it and had hastened to the Villa to recount thecongratulatory news. 

"I had to report this morning for military service, just having gotback to Dresden. So I went to the Platz and there sat an officer asbig as a hogshead. And I hope not as full. He began treating me asif I were a truant school boy. 'Stand up! Sit down! Stand up again!'So the examination commenced. I knew I was not fit for the army. Idid not want to go. I hate it. But they were after me. He said:

"'Take off your glasses!' I removed them. He said:

"'What is that letter off there?' Mein Gott! it looked as far off asPillnitz. It was my left eye out of which I had seen nothing since Iwas a baby. 

"'I see nothing, ' I said. He yelled:

"'You can!' Then I said:

"'I can't!' Then he roared out:

"'Why can't you?'

"'Because I am blind in it!' He glared at me as if I were aperjurer. 

"'It is blind and you can see nothing out of it?'

"And now I was getting out of patience with this blockhead. Blindand can't see out of it! They put the blockheads in the army becausethere is no other place for them. I think that must be the reasonwhy there are more synonyms for blockhead in the German languagethan in any other--we have the largest army. I said:

"'Of course I can't see anything out of it because it's blind, you---- ' I was just on the point of adding 'fool' when I stoppedmyself in time. It was the military--the august _military_. One musthold his peace before the magnificent military. He thought I wascheating about my eye because I did not want to march to Moscow, toParis. And I don't want to march to Moscow or Paris. They're so far. 

"So this stupid _Kerl_ took me over to a higher officer and stillanother. They sat there as stiff and self-complacent as woodensaints in a plaster church. They too shouted at me They were sosuspicious, although I had never had the pleasure of meeting any ofthem before. 

"'You say you are blind in one eye and can't see out of it?'

"I screamed, 'No, no, no!' They thought I might be going insane. They examined my eye, my glasses, and tried all kinds of tests totry to fool my poor eye. But it remained my faithful friend, andthey were mad. And I was just as mad and ready to shriek atthem--'Blind! Blind! Blind!' I was losing half a day for nothingover their stupidities. 

"Then the _Dummkopfen_ began to enter it up on their officialblotters. That seemed to take forever too. I was nearly exhausted. They solemnly wrote me down as blind in one eye and cannot see outof it. And at last, Gott sei Dank! they let me go, glowering at meas if they were still sure I was somehow tricking them. And here Iam--alive!"

Friedrich's ludicrous recital, embellished by a hundred gestures andposes, had raised a guffaw even in Villa Elsa. 

Chapter XVI

A LIVELY MUSICIAN

Gard discovered that such mockery or berating of military officials, with whom the ordinary public came in servile contact, was rathercommon in Germany in spite of the universal adoration of the army. 

Intermixed with Friedrich's take-off were his moments of "the grandmanner, " appropriate to a musical director who is born to commandfickle or imperious singers and musicians. He was naturally anactor. His refreshing mimicries amused Gard. Against the bovinebackground of the Villa Elsa circle, he stood out in relief as anenlivening figure with flitting phases of elegance. 

He was clever, talented. He spun off a lot of new music at thepiano, much of it coming from his own pen. Elsa hung absorbed overthe wing of the instrument. Friedrich, of about Kirtley's age butadequately equipped and ambitious, was aspiring to some one of thedignified thrones in the musical kingdom of Germany. Gard was onlyjust hatching out as a man. He was essentially but a lad grown up. Von Tielitz showed already a wholly developed maturity. Germaninstruction again versus American education!

Friedrich was better versed in English than the Bucher children. Hepaid two calls on Gard that first day. Talking Anglo-Saxon was goodpractice. On the second call he discharged a missile that struckKirtley near the heart, and gave him a feeling of faintness. 

"Don't you like Elsa?" Von Tielitz whipped out with no preamble. "She is really a nice girl, a very nice girl. Her family thinks weare to marry. Well, perhaps. I don't know. Sometimes I think yes. Sometimes I think no. There are so many others, don't you know. ButI think we will marry as soon as I get my Kapellmeistership. We arealways such good friends. She used to sit on my lap before I wentaway. O! we are _very_ good friends. But now I am not so much inDresden and, my dear Mr. Kirtley, my poor Kapellmeistership does notcome along. It is most aggravating, as you say in English. I get sodiscouraged. "

He brightened again. 

"They tell me you and Elsa have been playing duos. Such goodtraining. Very agreeable. We used to play together also. A nice girlto rub one's knees against under the piano--oh, "I am Titania the blond, Titania, of the air!"

Friedrich twittered gayly the lines from "Mignon. " Then he abruptlychanged. 

"But I have now so little time for serious maidens. Ach Himmel! HowI am driven by going here and going there! One says this to me, another says that to me, and my head gets all in a whirl. "

So he wandered on with his mixtures of _nonchalance_, condescensionand, above all, his ebullient self-esteem that flowed over on toeveryone to the point of deluging them. When he went away, it waswith such a warm invitation to call upon him the next week thatKirtley could not but accept. Besides, here was opened up a noveland suggestive line of behavior from the standpoint of the Germanyoung man of the world. 

Gard was left with confused feelings that drooped their wings indispleasure if not distress. So there was a rival, and of longstanding, on the little rosy sea of his romance! And this was he. Was it a wonder that Elsa had "spells"? Here was a trueheart-breaker. Just the type to play havoc with a girl. What placewas there left for the mild, unpretending Gard? And still shedeserved far better than Von Tielitz. Perhaps it was this feelingthat added to her unhappiness. His vulgarity! To talk as Von Tielitzdid about one who might become his wife, and to a stranger, was anew form of German brutality. It steadied and deepened Gard'sadmiration for her. Who ever heard a young Yankee speak like thisabout his serious sweetheart? However raw he may be, there is acertain sacred respect at the bottom of his language about her--hisbearing toward her. 

Elsa did not appear at meals for a day or two after Friedrich left. Kirtley was not encouraged by learning that this usually happenedafter a call from the composer. He thought it strange that the Frau, with all her plain speech and hardy lack of sentiment, still madeno reference to her daughter's trouble. Marriage is to the Germanssuch an earth-to-earth affair, as Gard perceived, that he marveledshe did not unbosom herself capaciously about what must be amother's anxiety. But the Teuton daughter is like a glove that canbe put on or cast off by the sovereign male. She is meant to betoughened, exposed to rude blasts, fortified, to be able to supportthe draft-mare burdens of Teuton wifehood. 

CHAPTER XVII

IMMORALITY AND OBSCENITY

Gard now descended unwittingly into one of the darkest regions ofGerman life, and one which foreign publics had persistently missedor voluntarily overlooked in their chorus of approbation of therace. 

It is a familiar dictum that one can judge of a nation pretty fairlyby the position and treatment of its women. Kirtley had never, inAmerica, heard anything about Deutschland in this light. But he soonfound in Saxony that this was only one of the numerous German topicson which little publicity was shed in his homeland in spite of thegeneral emphasis laid on German preëminence. This emphasis wasmainly a diffusion, through mere books of information, aboutachievements and an extraordinary condition of learned mentality. Ofthe actual inhabitants beyond the Rhine, ignorance was keptwidespread. German femininity was assumed to be of a predominatingexcellence to match that of German masculinity. 

No study of a people is indeed complete without an unglossed inquiryinto its conduct toward its women and children. To say that theGerman's business traits are the same and as reputable as those ofother races, is below the mark. In this secular domain he iscompelled to deal and to act within the accepted formulæ of trade. To do otherwise would be to ostracize himself. 

But he is in no such competition or is subject to no such exactionsin his attitude toward his own women and children. With them he doesas he pleases and his real nature stands forth. These truly vitalmatters have been passed over as if unnoticed by the world, as hasbeen said, and still it wonders why it cannot learn what the Germanis--does not understand him. He is, perhaps more than anyone, whathe is toward his own inferiors--toward those who are weaker anddependent. 

The question of German womanhood and girlhood should not thereforebe blinked by the earnest contemplator. It was not long before Gardwas saying to himself that if Americans could be made to realizethe status of womankind in Deutschland, they would not be so luredby the idea of sending their young folk thither for education. Therewould be a marked decline in their generous enthusiasm for _all_things German. In what civilized land does woman lead less in lofty, sublimated power or put a fainter stamp on the talents of the race?German art, music, poetry, language, politics, education, all aredistinctively masculine. The Teuton woman merely partakes of thelife of man, the ideal. She does not assume to lead him. She wouldseem so far below par that, as Gard had seen, even flirtationscarcely exists in Deutschland. Flirtation is particularly a customamong equals. 

When he returned Friedrich's visits as promised, he found himsharing the room of his friend Karl Messer. Messer was a successfularchitect who had already secured a Government commission while theequally youthful Kirtley--may it be repeated--had not begun reallife and, according to the American plan, could do nothing verywell. Those two room-mates and cronies were leading the typicalTeuton existence of youths who combined proficient work with a franksensuality accompanied, of course, by much imbibing in the Germanway. And it may be preliminarily noted that what explorations Gardafterward made in this great and seamy side of Teuton nature, likewise ended in a downward direction toward depths that he hadscarcely thought possible in the educated human. 

Von Tielitz and Messer had been at an uproarious ball the nightbefore and were idling about, recuperating. They had accomplishedthe ruin there of two girls, which they looked upon as truly manlysport. Assuming that Kirtley, as must be the case with all youngmen, was equally interested with them in being satyrs, they lost notime in trying to entertain him with their adventures. 

The pursuit of woman! In Germany this is not very difficult, as sheis not visibly unhappy to consider herself the legitimate prey ofthe lordly sex. This idea runs naturally and powerfully throughoutthe Teuton scheme. It is not merely that the female is considered tohave a price, but the price must be low, if not a cypher. To Germanwomen the triumphant male is a splendid creature. His acts arenoble. To be hungry, thirsty, sensual are proper, and thereforecandid, attributes in man. In order to subdue the earth, the racemust be prolific, and to be prolific, desires must not be limited orweakened by pale Puritanisms. That men are normally uncleansedsewers from which the face need not be averted, was a conceptionKirtley's senses had fallen somewhat foul of in the Bucher home. Towhat point this aspect was carried logically outside Villa Elsa, hewas to realize in skirting the openly sensual sides. 

The two Germans told of the various girls who had lived with themwhen in college. For the frank amatory life of the Teuton studentbegins early. Von Tielitz and Messer also boasted of theirpresent-day mistresses who were so often changed for reasons ofeconomy. The hilarious game, as Gard learned, was to obtain favorsin exchange for nothing as far as possible. Trickery, lies, abuse, kicks, were employed to this purpose. Female chastity? A fable forthe impotent. Consequently all was fair. 

Sisters of their respected fellows were inferentially appraised andcolloquially "hefted" as articles of social commerce ready to beknocked off matrimonially to the best bidder under the materialrules of the German _Mitgift_ system. Through the garish films ofinnuendo and braggadocio that day Kirtley was led to behold imagesof these daughters as if they were languishing to become mates andbeating their breasts in their longing to become mothers. He had byno means now forgotten Friedrich's equivocal remarks about Elsa. 

Before Gard was to leave Deutschland he had to conclude that theGerman puts himself in the attitude of thinking of his women assluttish and accordingly acting in that scale toward them. Thereis no great gilding to these fancies. Girls are small inspirationto him compared with what the _petites dames_ are to the amorousFrenchman. Idealization of love in its ultimate fulfillment, thepoetizing of the ardent flesh crying out for its craving mate, are characteristically ignored by the Teuton who seeks the basergratifications without illuminations of loveliness or hesitationsof delicate refinement. 

Kirtley thought he knew young men, yet this revolting capacity inthem in Germany was proven to him to be not unnormal by its opennessand by the dearth of any loud voices in rebuke. The German isconspicuously full of animal spirits. He affects the mighty inphysique. Exudations and emanations are frank and prominentfunctions. 

Under the Kaiser the Berlin dame who rented rooms to the foreignstudent, offering them "with" or "without, " meaning sometimes herown daughter in the bargain, considered herself respectable enough. More than this she acted in line with what appeared to be thepurpose of acquiring a sympathetic control of the morals as well asthe minds of the alien sojourner, the one being accompanied by apandering to his lower nature with the doors of vice flagrantly ajarwhile the other armed his mentality with a Teutonized equipment andoutlook. To sap the will, to galvanize the mind as from a Germanelectric battery, palsied resistance to aggressive Germania. It wasof a piece with that propaganda which the world was not to wake upto until almost too late. 

These downright animal phases pointed the way logically, in Gard'smind, to that obscenity which is interwoven in the Germancivilization. He had first come across such evidence in leadingcomic journals. The drawings and jests that did not leave much tobe filled out, adorned many a German page with an Adamic candor. Itdivorced him from _Simplicissimus_ and _Ulk_, not that he wassqueamish or a Miss Priscilla, but he saw no fun in that sort ofthing. 

He talked of it later with Anderson. Though there were pleasantdelusions in Anderson's mind about Germany before he arrived, it wasnot his fault if few seemed to be left after his seven years. Hebluntly defined the limited German wit and humor ascharacteristically born of the latrine. 

Gard's two young friends did not refrain from talk in the key ofindecency. Their complacent revelation of the extent to which thepornographic enters into the German scene, suggested an unclosedPriapean volume whose companion in America is as a sealed book. Kirtley heard that stores filled with obscene objects publicly forsale were to be found on frequented thoroughfares in German cities. 

He saw that Frau Bucher's insistence on a chaperone, which he hadregarded a silly, outworn conventionality, appeared most wise. Germany was a poor place for an unguarded German girl. 

This ran through his mind:

"Great Guns! What a country for me to study for the ministry, studymorality, best fit myself for life, as advised by Rebner and, itseems--everybody!"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE NAKED CULT

The German, in all this physical aspect, is not a little like anunabashed ape. Accordingly the foreigner in Deutschland is impressedby the popular worship of the wide-hipped female. The Teuton canleave little to be inferred but that he is more interested in themagnet of her developed hips than in the magic of her brain. 

American women, with their slender waists and chaste frigidness bornof Plymouth Rock, with their rulership in the home, their influencepermeating conspicuously in matters of public interest out of thehome, their entire freedom to be courted and married or let alone inunbounded respect--how long would these conditions have beenpermitted by the Gothic Kaiser if heedless America had fallen intohis gradually tightening grip? Doubtless to his view Yankee womenwere treated too much like dolls. They are not breeders ofsoldiers, makers of kingdoms. They do not rear children for theState. What have they desirably in common with the disciplinedHausfrau who becomes the mother of the ruling future generations?_She_ is properly the chattel of the Government. 

And so it is not enough, as Gard recognized, for Frau or Fräulein tobe massive of line and fond of being upholstered in dense colors inorder to satisfy the general grossness of her male. It is not enoughthat she should be armed with strong hands, planted on large feet, and decorated in the German's favorite rococo manner of aboundingbreasts, to gratify his cyclopean aspirations. 

"Big hips mean big women and big women mean big empires. " The sexfecund, ardent for mating and offspring, is the type. And thusfatness, which obviously and indisputably fills out the picture, isa popular German female attribute. Von Tielitz and Messer made itplain that obesity and width of girth characterized the transientobjects of their amours. And their allusions gave every evidencethat the famous Naked Cult, to the fascinations of which FräuleinWasserhaus, with her bared and redundant bosom, was yielding, hadbeen claiming the German youth for its own. 

Germany was recovering from this rage for nudity which had assumedsome proportions. Starting from the only artistic section of theEmpire, namely Bavaria, this cult had knocked even against thegloomy portals of the Pommeranian churches in the north. The Teutonhad suddenly discovered that it was right and proper in his godship, as it was in the realm of the Greek deities, to go about naked. Itwas natural, healthful, and both beautiful and moral. 

German men and women, in their divinity, should bathe, drink beer, dance together nude. What else did Grecian sculpture teach to thesethe modern Greeks--the true legatees of all that was Hellenic? Whatelse did painting inculcate but the beauty of undraped coupleswandering through landscapes? What more majestic spectacle than thatof the Teuton father, mother and children going out for an afternoonpromenade, clothed only in the ingenuous consciousness of theirhuman greatness?

In a race of beings so little modeled after the accepted lines ofpulchritude, all this was laughable. But to the German, condemnedto a vise-like seriousness and to childlikeness, it becamesignificant and weighty. It was such a grateful revelation not tohave to dream of his loved ones through the unsatisfactory medium ofGerman clothing. 

With his customary excess of logic he plunged headlong into theseardent waves of the realm of Venus rising unimpeachably from the seain her immortal bareness. He began to systematize thisdemonstration. Some of the political parties seemed to be in line tofavor this revealment of another radical tenet. German philosophersmade ready to seize upon it with huge mental biceps and labor toincorporate it beneficently into the Teuton pansophy. Even doctorsof theology were said to view the novel dispensation through theblue spectacles of their didacticism, and to hesitate and stumbleover the question of greeting these glad visions of a gladapocalypse. What was truer Protestantism than that there is thenatural body as well as the spiritual body, and that it would bevirtuous to behold outwardly the former as it was virtuous torecognize inwardly the latter?

The campaign became almost lively. Of course the young Germans, whose fathers and mothers in their youth had raved over Wagner andthus shocked their elders, raved over a departure that linked suchpossibilities of frankness and loveliness so delectably together. The Von Tielitzes and Messers were in the seventh heaven. 

But Germany, being a northern country ruled severely in the main byold men, was bound to feel in the end more comfortable in clothes. Climate governs male and female alike and shapes their habits to itsown tyrannical mandates. The Teutons were doomed to suggest flannel. So a vast moral revulsion in the form of the much German clothednessfinally rose up and overwhelmed the religion of Nudity--the _NacktKultur_. Although the Teuton male likes to contemplate himself andbe contemplated as candid Mother Nature made him, he could not adapthimself to the idea of his fleshy women appearing naked before acritical and commenting world. Momus had at last arrived in ancientDeutschland and was feared. 

While the movement, which was presuming to cover Germany withsculptures of its heroes in complete undress, honored itself bysuch fitting testimonials to their lordliness, Fritz curiouslyshrank before public statues depicting his fat housewife in likeabsence of attire. This was illogical besides being unsatisfactoryto those who had insisted on worshipping the German female form _alfresco_. The vital point being thus dodged, there was left nothinginteresting in the way of legs for the Naked Cult to stand on, andit dropped out of sight as suddenly as it had risen to view. Prejudice is Plebeian and blind and to the blind and Plebeian highart of course goes with low morals. The Plebs are always in thecrushing majority. So the odd German mind jumped to the otherextreme and for a few months got ashamed of little daughters goingbarefoot or playing with naked animal toys. 

 * * * * *

Gard had been able to warm up small sympathy for the modern militaryauthors and iron and blood philosophers whom he found in vogue inGermany. On the other hand, cold water had unexpectedly been thrownon the retreating Goethes and Schillers whom he had come to veneratewith grammar and lexicon. As the Germans were proving to be wide ofwhat his anticipations had set as a mark, he had begun a seriouscourse of reading not only about the modern race but about itsorigins, curious to know of the early developments of this strangepeople who belonged to civilization yet was so considerably andconstitutionally outside the realm of its Christian development. 

In this study he became attracted to Charlemagne and that epoch. Ofthem he had learned little at college. Of course the Germans had"bagged" Charlemagne, as an Englishman would express it, in additionto their other seizures right and left in the face of an indulgent, even supine, world. But Gard discovered that while they had kept thepuissant Carolingian snatched to their breasts, the chivalrous sideof the great medieval evolution which ended in fostering theromantic ideal of womanhood in its chastity, daintiness and colorfulspell, had never reached much east of his capital--Aix-la-Chapelle. His heroic size, his practical religious pretensions andassumptions, his campaigns to seize control of foreign lands--allsuch Carolingian features and manifestations were imitated andadopted as German _motifs_, but the corresponding gallant exaltationof the gentler sex was not included. The polished courts ofself-denying love, the Troubadours, the salons, the refininginfluences that gradually raised woman to her modern sovereignty ofa graceful liberty and charm, never characterized Deutschland. 

Besides, women becoming idols through his own sexual restraintcompelled a self-sacrificing procedure that did not appeal to Fritz. To him those many feminizing influences had naught to do withstrength in battle or in toil. They were dangerous, softening, andcoddled the elements of defeat. He wanted work and fighting andchildren, always children, but with the lustful appetites of theundisputed male. 

His Berthas and Gretchens, who had been exceptional figures in thewarring camps of the ancient Teutons, were therefore onlytransferred into a similar yet menial relation in the housed home. And there they have typically remained--in its cook room andnursery. The fact that the Buchers, though coming, as they boasted, from one original, unmixed, stationary stock there in that middlespot of old Europe, had displayed themselves as social and politicalparvenus, led to Kirtley's reflecting:

"The German thinks of a wife as in the kitchen, while a wife appearsto the Frenchman as in the salon, to the Briton, as in an Englishgarden. "

So this gradual elevating of the sex toward an ethereal height inall respects, toward pure associations which, through the epochs ofchaste saints, chivalry, gallantry, social freedom, were to upliftmen by the graces of lofty feminine enchantment, took place westwardof the Rhine. And Germany, if the sporadic Heine is excepted, had noShelleys, no Chopins, and scarcely any of that rare, delightfulperfume of human existence which western and southern mankind quitetypically adores as the ultimate extract of beauty because it isassociated with the spiritual elegance of womanhood. .. . 

 * * * * *

On Kirtley's leaving that day, Von Tielitz and Messer showedthemselves generously ready to share their amorous acquaintanceship. They insisted on his going with them sometime to the smallest, quaintest inn in Dresden where they were at present cultivatingfriendly relations with "Fritzi. " In short petticoats she served thebest hot sausages in Saxony. To an American student of life andlanguage in Germany she was pictured as absolutely necessary. For, although originally from the Thuringian forest, she spoke the Saxondialect "shockingly well. "

Kirtley laughed it off as a part of the ribald fun. 

The young Germans wound up their list of salutations with Der Tag!

"What do you mean by Der Tag?" he inquired. The others grinnedsignificantly. 

"Wait and see. It will be something _kolossal_. " And they called outafter him:

"Don't forget about Fritzi!"

That night Gard, laden with heavy feelings, tumbled into his Germanbed piled with its equatorial bolsters. Could Elsa marry a man likeFriedrich? Ought she to be permitted to? Could she really love him?Wouldn't she be horrified if she knew fully about him? Or would she, like German women in general, seem to care little about the moralsof her future mate? Likely, as Gard fancied, it was this knowledgeof him that sent her now and then in evident unhappiness to herroom. 

She was a pure and very worth-while girl. He could not ignore thather healthful, productive example was a stimulus to him. It would bea sturdy prop in his long sensitive, susceptible physicalrecovery--and afterward. Was it really not a kind of _duty_ to tryto save her from sharing the fate of Von Tielitz, and win her if hecould?

CHAPTER XIX

JIM DEMING OF ERIE, PAY. 

The Americanization of the Bucher home Kirtley naturally thoughtbeyond all attempts. Its detestation of the low-born Yankee, withonly his sorry millions, seemed too deeply planted there, especiallyin the brain and bosom of the Frau. Could Villa Elsa have beentransferred to the United States, such a viewpoint might perhapshave been altered after a time. But this representative boorishGerman family, stuck here on the rainy banks of the mid-continentElbe and so rooted and clamorous in the presumption that they andtheir kind were eclipsing the earth--how impossible of anyconversion?

Gard had at first the idea of getting together some Americanstatistics and showing the Buchers a few facts. Then he saw this washopeless. They accepted nothing that did not come through their ownofficial channels. And why should he waste time on these obscurepeople? Why should he undertake to upset their racial happiness?Nobody, least of all he, could change their attitude about theupstart Yankee and his upstart dollars. The Buchers held themselvestoo far above mere money and its filth. 

But the miracle was, nevertheless, to be accomplished, at least forawhile, in a manner as simple as it was unlooked for. And this waswhat happened. 

One day, soon after Gard's disillusioning call on Von Tielitz, hewas grubbing in his attic among the ninth century roots of thefuture super-luxuriant Teuton forest, when he heard Tekla'swoodchopper feet pounding their way upstairs. A card was thrust in. James Alexander Deming, Erie, Pa. Well, of all the world! The nextmoment he was there in the room, talkative, airy, sunny, dressedwith the obvious American consciousness of having just left thehands of his fashionable tailor and haberdasher. Every section ofhis black hair and tiny black mustache was plastered down as alwaysin correct position. 

Making himself right at home with his newly acquiredcosmopolitanism, Jim explained how he was already settled inDresden for the winter. 

"You knew that the more I saw of this old Germany, the more I likedit. My governor wrote me I could stay if I would try to learnsomething and I thought of you. I said to myself, 'Kirtley is aserious sort of chap. If I light down near him, it will be easier tolearn this confounded language they have got over here, and I willbe able to shine with it in Erie, Pay, and do the old folks proud. '

"So I've got a teacher and a grammar and also a dictionary so big Ican't find anything in it--all ready to loop the loop. But first, ofcourse, I must run out and see you and see how you are getting on, swimming in beer. Nothing is too good for us Americans, you know, somy room in the hotel is right by the royal palace where I can seethe Crown Prince with his sword fall off his horse every morning atten. Gad, won't it be something to talk about when I get back togood old Pennsylwanee?"

Deming's "old man" was possessed of wealth derived from oil wells. But although Jim's pockets had always been stuffed with money, hehad never been able to get through high school or enter college. Hang it all, he didn't take to books like Kirtley and all suchintellectual boys. It was the fault of his dad and mam. They hadpetted and spoiled him--an only child. It was too bad, but shucks, he wasn't going to let it interfere with his happiness. So it wasmoney here and money there, and a host of friends who, like Gard, could not help being fond of him. 

Jim had seen the Kaiser and quaffed out of the largest hogshead onthe Rhine. He had been at a duel at Heidelberg where the chap with acut through his cheek asked for a mug of beer and blew the beer outthrough the gash. He had swum in Lake Starnberg where Ludwig II haddrowned himself; had seen the café in Munich where the celebratedNaked Culture was said to have originated; had bribed his way intothe villa at Mayerling where Rudolph of Austria and Marie had endedthat mysterious night of fatality. In short, he had done Germanypretty thoroughly. 

When, by his insistent questionings, he learned about thecomfortable and illuminating German home where Kirtley had installedhimself, and that there was a fine, serious young lady in it with aharvest of straw-colored hair, he soon confessed, after all, to hisdisappointments. 

"Kirtley, you are always a lucky dog. Here you are with nice Dutchpeople, in the social swim, absorbing German to beat the band. All Isee is chambermaids who shout at me some kind of devilish dialectthat a fellow can't understand. And my chambermaid and I are just atpresent at outs. I told her this morning she was the tallest woman Iever saw. A little of her went such a long ways. As she don't knowany English words, that is the only thing we have agreed about. Shesaid, Ja wohl! This going to balls and cafés as I'm doing is allright for local color and all that, but it would tickle dad a lot ifI knew a quiet, decent, respectable German family. And I want toknow a nice, sober German girl who has got yellow, chorus-girl hairand will steady a fellow down. The proper study of young man isyoung woman. I haven't been able to meet any young ladies in thiscountry. Sometimes I think they have only wenches. And I want someof the classic Gayty and Schiller stuff too that you can get here inLoschwitz. "

This urgent idea did not appear auspicious to Gard. If Deming gotthe run of Villa Elsa, he would unsettle things, interfere with hisown work. Jim was a good boy but he played hob with study. And hewas just the kind of flashy, ignorant Yankee who would prove toVilla Elsa what it claimed about the race. He would disgust theBuchers with his showy superficiality and dolessness. Mere money, everlasting money. More than all he would complicate the situationwith Fräulein. He might upset her somehow, and at least discover hisown secret feelings toward her--feelings that had become moredistraught after the Von Tielitz revelation. In a word, everythingwould be helter-skelter. 

After Jim had called twice, bent upon becoming intimate with theBuchers, Gard, as he thought, conceived a clever maneuver. He tookDeming over to call on Fräulein Wasserhaus. Here was an earnestyoung woman, lolling on the gate with plenty of time on her hands, dying for a man. She could teach Deming everything he wanted toknow. She was not antagonistic to Americans as were the Buchers. Onthe contrary she was aching to clasp some one of them in her pudgyarms. 

But this stratagem proved a flat failure. When they came away fromher abode, Jim took on a worried look and lit a cigarette. 

"Say, see here, old chap. Are you trying to make fun of me? Is thisa joke? I don't want a walrus, thirty years old, with ragbag clothesthat fit her a foot off. She has a gait like an ice wagon. Why, shecouldn't get a job as window-washer in the street car shops of Erie, Pay. "

CHAPTER XX

AN AMERICAN VICTORY

Deming's campaign against the terrible German language was unable toadvance perceptibly beyond the stage of preparations. These weresomewhat elaborate, especially from the standpoint of expense. Hehad a multiplicity of instructors and grammars. If they had beenplaced side by side they might have reached from the Green Vault tothe Zwinger. 

He blamed these agencies of instruction. His "professors" hegenerally picked up at the Stadt Gotha where he played billiards. While these parties were fair with the ivories, they could not seemto knock any caroms of German around the cushions of Jim's brain. 

His daily routine was like this: At ten, his lesson in Dutch. Teacher would come. Great show of hospitality. There must besomething to drink. The preceptor must try one of the fancy pipes, of which Deming had collected a large array in Germany. He would befeeling knocked in this morning, having been up late consumingnumerous bocks in amicable emulation of the local prowess. He hadnot got around to his lesson and had concluded he did not think muchof his present grammar. Herr Preceptor would suggest procuringanother which would strew roses no doubt along the thorny path. Capital idea. Of course they must then wait for the new grammar. 

Adjournment at eleven to the café for billiards. Deming was a goodwielder of the cue. He said the Germans were too be-spectacled andblear-eyed to play well and by three o'clock he had usually wonquite a number of marks. This was making "easy money. " It wenttoward paying for his evening's entertainment and was good economy. His pleasure account would not look so large to his governor. Atthree, to his hotel for afternoon dress. Evenings it was some otherform of diversion. Home at all hours. 

This was his day of study, of which his hopeful parents learned thepromising side. Someone advised him that if he did not try so hardto master German, it would come easier. But he experimented withthis plan for a week and told Gard:

"When you don't bone over the blamed language, it's surprising howmuch you don't know about it. It still takes me an hour and a halfto hold a five minutes' conversation. "

In two months he was thumbing page ten of the grammar, but he hadseized upon a good many slang phrases, supercharged ejaculations. Though the undercurrent of his discouragement about his progress wasconsiderable, it interfered little with his acquainting himproficiently with the restaurant world of Dresden. He saw and heardwhat was going on in those quarters, and through him Kirtley learnedof that phase of German character and habits. 

In view of everything, there had finally been no decent, reasonableway for Gard but to let Deming, professedly zealous of knowingGerman and seeing Teuton home life, into the Bucher circle. Awarethat Jim was quite innocent enough morally, Gard avoided introducinghim to Von Tielitz and Messer whose depravities might proveharmful. But Deming at last met the former at Loschwitz and the twobecame friends just before Friedrich left in quest of anotherKapellmeistership. The friction or explosion Gard rather expectedbetween them over Fräulein did not occur. While he had dreaded sucha happening for Jim's sake, it might have cleared the atmospherepleasantly for his own. But Friedrich was delighted that Herr Demingshowed his old neighbors, the Buchers, such munificent courtesies, and Jim thought Von Tielitz the most brilliant chap he had everknown. 

Kirtley waited with fear, with trembling and also with some hopefulinterest, for the fireworks resulting from Deming's induction toVilla Elsa. And they promptly began to soar, for Jim had, in hisway, all the American speed, and proceeded to overwhelm thehousehold with his attentions. It was a case of swift enthusiasmabout the whole family. Unlike Kirtley he did not care how many ofthe members accompanied the Fräulein and him. All were welcome. Though he openly displayed his fascination about the Fräulein, ithad none of that tender sentiment which Gard was dissembling beforehis friend. Nevertheless it appeared to be a violent case of love atfirst sight, and before the first sight. 

Kirtley dropped out of the running. He excused himself by thenecessity of burying himself deeper in his books on Teuton originsand traits. In a brief week the Buchers had forgotten him. All wasHerr Deming--the wonderful Herr Deming--the fortunate youth who wasbringing the witchery of good luck into the drab home. It was HerrDeming morning, noon and night. 

There were theater parties, suppers on Brühl Terrace, plans for thenext dance. Jim spread it on thick, and the dutiful, docile Elsa wasswept along with the rest, although with a reserve in evocation asbecame the modesty of a maiden who was manifestly the pivotal centerof all this vertiginous attraction and activity. The Bucherssuddenly evinced a great and favorable curiosity about America. Their attitude toward it was revolutionized. They plied Gard withquestions. What was living like there? It must be most desirable. Gard came across convenient hand books of knowledge, inconvenientencyclopedias and atlases, lying here and there in the house, withpages opened freely at the United States. Frau Bucher becamevociferous in praise of the advantages of the Yankee fashion ofcourtship over the slow, economical, dull, German process ofmatch-making. 

The household was overturned. Its affairs got dreadfully behind. Mother was mightily absorbed in getting out and fixing up imposingold dresses, laces, wraps, that were heirlooms or dated from herbridal days of a quarter of a century before. Elsa's lessons inetching and her methodical hours for perfecting her manifoldtalents, became badly confused. 

The great thing was driving at the fashionable hour in the GrosseGarten. This was what the Buchers had never dreamed of. In thewinter only the royal and very aristocratic families drove there. The common people, who might extravagantly expend a few marks toindulge in this pastime of nobility in summer, were frozen out of itin winter. Hot drinks in beer halls were then more to their taste. 

But many an afternoon at four Deming, with his two ladiesoverdressed for the occasion in the dowdy German manner, occupyinga handsome, heated limousine decorated with a conspicuous mirror andwith Parma violets gently disengaging a delicate perfume, fell inright behind the king's household if possible, and toured the parkin stately measure, being numbered, no doubt, by the open-mouthedbeholder on the sidewalk, among the social elect in Saxony. 

Elsa was as good as engaged, as good as married. In her mother'seyes, bloodshot with all this glory of excitement, her daughter wasalready dwelling in a palace in that amazing city of Erie, in thatsplendid commonwealth of Pennsylvania, of whose double fame she hadnever before heard. For, of course, Deming sang constantly of thewonders of his native haunts, where wealth flowed out of the groundand the trolley system was the best in the world. 

Thus the Americanization of Villa Elsa was accomplished in thetwinkling of an eye. No more did Gard hear of the Yankee pigs. Nomore did he hear of the disgusting Yankee billions. Germany andAmerica in union would form the blessed state which would commandthe globe, and the two excelling peoples, by intermarrying, wouldproduce a race too far ahead and above Frau Bucher's hoarsevocabulary to admit of much more than her Ach Himmels and AchGotts. 

CHAPTER XXI

A PEOPLE PECULIAR OR PAGAN?

Concurrent with all these lively happenings Kirtley had cultivatedthe acquaintance of Miles Anderson. The two became very friendly. Gard had been so rudely treated by the great German professor in thelecture room that he was quite willing to conclude he could learnfrom the journalist far more of what he was interested in than froma Teuton university pulpit. 

Anderson, like himself, had entered Germany ignorant of the nationand its folk, and fully disposed to find almost everything worthythe highest praise. The elder's vivid convictions, his causticreflections, were honestly born of what he had seen and heard indifferent parts of the land, not of what the Germans said ofthemselves in books, as was the customary rule. By virtue of hiscalling he had superior opportunities for observation. He wastherefore not a negligible imparter of information. 

Gard usually found him in a high-ceilinged, majestic chamber in atypical Dresden _pension_, frequented, however, by only three orfour boarders. It was a little like a home for Anderson, even ifgloomily august in the German style. Dark woodwork, severely waxedfloors on which Gard often slipped violently, huge doors, hugechairs and tables--everything large to suit the national taste forbig Teuton gods and supermen. Long, thick stuffs concealed thepassageways and windows and contributed to the absence of cheeringlight--that sign and symbol of the Gothic environment anddisposition. 

The first question the old man usually plumped was:

"How's your German going?"

"Slowly. Pegging along. I suppose it's because I don't get up muchof a liking for it. There's something about it that goes against mygrain. "

And then Anderson would be off for that particular session. On oneearly occasion he had said, jestingly:

"I guess you will have to fall back upon the natural method. "

"What's that?" had come back the innocent interrogatory. 

"Take a sweetheart. She will teach you more useful German in a monththan you can learn from the pedagogues in a year. Right here in thebest parts of Dresden are streets where these ladies can be rentedwith their rooms per week or per month cheap, with all the Germanyou want thrown in. Are we to assume it is by this system that theGerman universities are able to turn out what the world believes arethe best students?"

"I never heard anything about that back home, " confessed Kirtley, always letting the bars down to encourage a monologue. 

"Of course not. That would be to interfere with our Americanreadiness to admit German transcendence. "

"But how do you harmonize the frank state of morals here with thefact that the Germans are the great religious authorities? How havethey established such a reputation abroad for the morality that isassumed to go with Protestantism?"

"That is simple enough. First, by claiming that the French aredegenerate. Second, by retaining religion with its morals as anadjunct of an unmoral and authoritative militarism. Religion is tothem a topic for expert investigation and study just as ismilitarism or any natural product--oil, coal, the chemical elements, anything. The Teuton specialist goes at it as at any objectivescience. His analytical and synthetic processes simply explore inhis own subterranean caverns apropos of theology. He has taken overthe Bible as the Kaiser has taken over Jerusalem. Wilhelm isbecoming the Cerberus of Christianity--sole and surly guardian ofits meanings and influence. 

"But you never see any men in these German churches, do you? Theydon't go to church. Nor the women very much. You see old women andchildren at worship. This is because the German has always typicallyworshipped Gott on the battlefield or in the military camps--out inthe open. The German God is an out-of-doors God and is distinctivelyassociated with the thought of war. God within walls, within achurch, is a deity of good will on earth. He is a deity of peace. Naturally this does not appeal to the Goth. He don't pay muchlively attention to God unless there's a war on hand or in immediateprospect. Then he begins to shout and 'holler' at Him to attract Hisattention, because He is so far off from Germany. "

Gard laughed. Then, after a moment, he asked, almost shyly, "If German morals and religion have little necessaryrelation--little actual relation--how about love?"

"The German would never have known of love if he had not heard ittalked of, " replied Anderson with responsive geniality, pleased withKirtley's amused face. "Generally an excess of a moral religiondestroys love, just as the absence of it in the past has been apt togo with an indecent and widespread sensuality. So we have, what iscalled, the beastliness in the Teuton. For he has to go, as youknow, to an extreme in things--logical extreme. This is why he isonly partly human, from our standpoint. The human is so constructedthat he can't stand excess in any direction very long and remainhuman. Everything has to be diluted, alloyed, temporized for him orit is not bearable--it will not work successfully. 

"We see this in medicine--conspicuously. Medicines pure from thehands of Mother Nature are too strong, too rank in their purity, tobe properly effective. They have to be weakened, reduced, compoundedwith inferior elements, to be of service. So with Truth. People arealways begging for Truth, seeking the ultimate Truth, as if thatwould bring the perfect state of happiness. This is childlikeignorance. Truth in its pure, perfect condition would simply killthem--like unadulterated drugs. They could not stand its blindinglight. They could not stand the shock. Like the rest--to change themetaphor--it has to be made up so largely of shoddy to wear well orwear at all. 

"Love, the same way. When the world talks of love so much, it meansonly friendliness--you like me and I like you--you do something kindfor me and I will do something kind for you. Love in its alloyedform of friendship is its efficacious shape for universal use. Purelove, which poor humanity is always reaching out its hands for, simply--as George Sand said--simply tears people to pieces withoutdoing them any good. The result is tragedy, despair, wrecked lives, death before one's time. We see that everywhere depicted infiction, in the drama, at the opera. 

"So the German has kept love in a practical state--for him--byassociating it so prominently with his procreative capacities. It isa case of Mars and Venus producing fighting men. "

"If the German is not governed by love as an ideal, " put in Gard, "how is it then that he is so sentimental? People always assure usthat Fritz must be really at bottom as affectionate, tender, emotional, as anyone because he is so sentimental. "

"Yes, that's the old conundrum that the enthusiasts over everythingGerman confuse one with. The German's fondness--gobbling-downfondness--for food does not prove that he is a gourmet. The Teutonsentimentality is like mush. It's principally for children. As Fritzkeeps a good deal of his childishness about him as he grows up, hekeeps this taste for mush. It takes the place of _sentiment_ whichis of the proper mental pabulum for enlightened adults. You can'twrite poetry about mush. So the Germans have little poetry worthtalking about. Where their emotional side ought to be, they areslightly developed beyond the youthful stage of sentiment_alism_. Their abortive conception of love, their treatment of their womenand children--other things--all account for this naturally enough. One is rather forced, in spite of himself, to take the Germans ateither of two extremes in order to understand themcandidly--mushiness or iron. "

CHAPTER XXII

MAKING FOR WAR

Anderson did not care for the Buchers and only came two or threetimes to Villa Elsa. So Gard did the calling. The elder wouldinvariably bring out from his table drawer his "bachelor's bride" inthe form of a box of clear Havanas, and the "lecture" would beginagain before, what he said, was the most select audience inDeutschland. 

"Have you heard anything from your spy?" he queried one day. 

"No. You don't seriously mean that Rudolph--you assume it'sRudolph--is watching me?" returned Kirtley, a little disturbed overthe recurrence to this subject. "What am I guilty of? I'm asinnocent as an unborn lamb. "

"Certainly you are. But, my dear boy, what's innocence in Germany?The Secret Police can make an alien like you a lot of trouble aboutnothing. You wouldn't believe how systematic they are, and seriousas stuffed owls. Take my advice and don't do things at too looseends as we are apt to over home. But if you do get into trouble, come to me and I will tell you what to say. 

"Sometimes they even have one spy spying on another in the home. Ofcourse the spy system, like the army and navy, belongs to theKaiser. All the people have to do is to furnish the men and themoney. It's as Heine said, the royal palaces and so forth are ownedby the princes, but the debts owing for them are assumed by thepublic. The Hohenzollerns have the property, the Germans have theobligations. 

"You see, the spy system tends to prevent the Teuton from talkingpolitics. But he can theorize concerning the State. The State is anactive philosophic concept that holds off the people from discussingand gossiping about Wilhelm. It does not exist apart from the rulingfamily and apart from the bureaucracy which is the ruling family inaction. It takes on their character. The State is a mirage which thecitizen is made to gawk at in the air, thinking he sees somethingbesides the frowning German sky. It surrounds the Emperor with thedivine halo, removes him up above the rumbling clouds where thedistant views lend enchantment. "

There hung about Anderson's talk to-day, as so frequently, a certainsententious and acidulous manner that, to Gard, evidenced twinges ofrheumatism. 

The dialogue fell once more on war. After the demonstration in VillaElsa against America, Anderson was gratified by this proof of hiscontentions. While Kirtley admitted the force in the argument thatthis excited and confident condition of feeling among the commonGerman people pointed toward hostilities, he could not reallybelieve that such a horror would break forth upon Europe. There wasthe Hague Convention--

"Pooh!" exclaimed Anderson. "What does the Hague Convention signifyin face of the growing armaments? What have you ever seen inPrussian history to show that Prussia would stop for any agreementwhen she was sure of winning?"

"You expect war soon, " said Gard. "Why soon? Granted the Germanswant war to carry out their world plans, why should it come beforeanother generation, for instance?"

"Because the Kaiser is getting along in years. Time does not waiteven for him. Alexander, Cæsar, Napoleon were young in comparison. So he is talking a lot about God now and that means war. He wants toenjoy ruling Europe awhile before he dies. He does not get on withthe Crown Prince and is not greatly interested in leaving all suchglory for him to sport about in. Soon Wilhelm the Deuce will be tooold to take part in a military campaign. He has not many years tolive at his age. He is not a well man. The longer he puts it off, the shorter will be the triumph he craves. "

The talk shifted angles and Anderson was saying after awhile:

"When you have the German statesmen, generals, magnates, press, professors, theologians, everybody, insisting on the incomparablevirtues of the Germans and never on their failings--on their rightsand privileges and never on their duties to humanity--do you wonderthat the plain people, like your Buchers, think it devolves uponthem to turn foreign lands into waste by the sword in order toconvert them into German countries? It is hard to find in any Germanpublication a frank and commending acknowledgment that a foreignerhas really completed anything to his credit. If such evidence is toostrong in any case and forces an admission, the foreign inventor ordiscoverer is rather made to appear presumptuous in acting beforesome German got around to it. The Teutons never think, talk andwrite in terms of humanity--only in terms of Germanity. Do you notbegin to see that the Teutons are, in intent, as murderouslyfanatical about their greatness as the mad Mullah and his followerswere about their bigotry? The Germans have been educated to theseviews since childhood. .. . 

"You tell me that Charlemagne took on Christian religion as a propto, an ally of, his military power--an aid to the extension of hisrule. Well, then, the Teutons have turned what they call theirChristianity into a warlike worship of themselves. Their preachersmust stand in with the Kaiser. He is to them God on earth. It is theold story of the throne upheld by the official church. "

"But how about all Catholic Germany?" parried Gard. "About one-thirdis Catholic. "

"True, true. Yet from what I've seen, the German Catholics will befound fighting for the Protestants when war comes, just as theSocialists will be found fighting for the Emperor. This is becausethe feeling for race and nation is far stronger than for creed ordoctrine. If the Kaiser succeeds in getting control of Europe, hewill take to himself the spiritual and religious headship of theworld and the Pope will become essentially his vassal, for the Popewill be impotent as against the victorious sword. Hasn't Wilhelmalready assumed to be the head of Mohammedanism?

"And look at it. South Germany, which is Catholic, and Saxony here, are cramped up in the interior. Their manufacturing interests areincreasing by leaps and bounds. Isn't it natural they should want adirect outlet to the Atlantic and Mediterranean? Wouldn't theseSaxons be proud to have a piece of real ocean shore to use as theirown?

"Another thing. As the Germans are brutal among themselves, Ipredict that, stirred up as they are, they will be brutal like Hunsin this war. You see how they deal with their own women. Imaginewhat they will do to foreign women. How do you yourself think youryoung military Bucher would act toward Americans if he landed on ourcoast with a gun? The German will be like a Hun just as he was inthe treacherous days of Ariovistus and Arminius--the Teutobergerforest and all that over again. He will red-handedly rebuffcivilizing influences just as he did in those days. "

"How do you define Hun?" asked Gard. "The Germans are not Huns byrace. "

"No. I said _like_ Huns. I mean by Huns a people who insist on theirtribal sovereign right of conquest by means of ruthless murder andsenseless destruction--wiping out foreign races and property. "

One evening the conversation drifted to this theme:

"Is Luther--Protestantism--one of the reasons why Protestant Americais so favorably inclined to Germany?" suggested Kirtley. 

"Americans would be surprised to find there is no such thing asLutheranism here. A bumptious military cult has usurped its place. There are no Lutherans in Deutschland--only Evangelicals andDissidents. And of course Catholics. If you ask an ordinary Teutonwhat Protestantism is, he will scarcely know what you meanprecisely. American Protestantism and German Protestantism areradically unlike. The one is peaceful and trustful, the other iswarlike and knavish. 

"And it seems to me so plain that, besides our religionists, ourAmerican education is playing in with the Kaiser's plans. It tendsto weaken faith in our government. It makes unpatriotic citizens. Our colleges turn out young men who feel no political duties. Weteach them to look for benefits without responsibilities. Howdifferent with the German universities! Our school histories, too, nurse active hatred of England, and everywhere with us the mainopinion about the French is fostered that they are immoral andtherefore to be despised. All this works in with the advancement ofGerman popularity and interests, while at the same time our youngmen, like you, are sent here to study. Only the best in Germany isdiligently kept before our people. The worst is never known as youand I are learning to know it over here. "

"So you think, " said Gard companionably, "that the Kaiser will sethis fiery ball rolling this spring. "

"I put the date at March first. " The old man's hands trembled as herelighted his cigar stub. His voice almost broke. 

"I know they think I'm getting in my dotage--brain a littlecracked--and all that. I'm a poor chap possessed of a foolish andwicked delusion. Mean well, but head rickety. Sometimes I reallythink I must be crazy, with all the world against me about theGerman danger. They call me Jeremiah and Mother Goose rolled intoone. But, by God, Kirtley, as my soul's immortal, I tell you I'mright--I'm _right_! The _deluge_ is just ahead!--and nothing beingdone to prevent it. " He shouted the words till Gard almost shook. 

Every time he left Anderson, he would settle back into the lullingarms of false security, but always a little less assured. How couldthe old newspaper man be correct and the rest of mankind be inerror? He used the stock arguments with himself. Granted that theobese Germans about him on the tram trundling along toward Loschwitzwere talking war and preparing for war. They had been doing so forforty-three years and no conflict had come. Immense populations ofpeace and unpreparedness were growing up who would discourage aworld war--would not permit it. There were increasing millions ofpeople who had never seen a soldier, never seen a battleship. Wouldthey want to pay the cost in blood and billions of treasure? It wasunthinkable. 

And so everyone was floating on with these comfortableconvictions--floating on toward the imminent cataclysm, smilingpityingly on the few lugubrious Andersons who were right. 

CHAPTER XXIII

SOCIAL ETIQUETTE

Balls and dancing are a notable expression of life and character inGermany. The Teuton has a passion for them. In what country are theyso institutional? The German dance music is on the whole by far thebest any land has composed. The waltzes are fine productions of therace. They are not enemic, lascivious or empty of meaning. They arenoble, wholesome and full-throbbing with the pounding blood of menand women. 

German balls are most varied in kind, responding to the completescale of existence from high to low. However dowdy, rigid, ungainlyor sensual they may be, their music is nearly always elevating orat least of merit because it is written by thoroughly trainedcomposers of whom Germany has a full complement. One of thedreams of any American woman in Europe has been to dance witha German officer who, in his handsome, well-fitting uniformsetting off his commanding proportions and guarded forcefullyby his clattering sword and jingling spurs, appealed to thoseinstincts for knightliness and chivalric appearance which excitethe feminine nature. 

Nevertheless the general unloveliness of the social disposition andactivities of the Teutons is normally reflected in their balls, andis increased by their tremendous and perspiring energies in thisdiversion where usually pervades an atmosphere thick with the odorsof beer, sausage, cheese. 

The Royal Court Ball opened the fashionable season every winter inDresden as proper in an orthodox monarchy. It was Kirtley's oneopportunity to view German royalty, in its intimacy of pumps and lownecks, at a ceremonious function in a whirl of music and the dance. Naturally he wanted to be present with Elsa who was, of course, competent in the art of Terpsichore. To say the least she was theonly young lady he knew well in Saxony, and to have her hair of ripecorn color dancing in its luxuriance before his eyes to theinspiring melodies of the opera bands would be something to thrillhim and his memories afterward. He would take a box and somehowmanage to moor Frau Bucher in its depths. 

His hopes had sprung up about it for, luckily, Von Tielitz had goneaway and Jim, who had put the family in such a state ofintoxication, was to be in Prague and Warsaw for a month. It wouldbe a chance for the obscured Gard to emerge into the light and seehow Elsa was really affected by the Deming glamor. Of all her boobyfamily she had comported herself so far with a dutiful steadiness inface of his dizzying _coup de main_. As for Von Tielitz and arespectable young woman--how could there be anything serious ahead?

During Jim's trip Fräulein plunged into her etching to make up forabsences. But Gard was pleased over the renewal of their piano duoswhich had been abandoned after Deming's arrival. She very loyallyfound a little time for this distraction, and so, as before, theyplayed through earnest stuff and tasseled it off with lighteremotions in the form of "Heart and Hand, " "Love's Dreams, ""Affection True"--good things with which to court a musical girl. Her cordiality suddenly took on a frank warmness, as if she had comeback to an old friend. He saw that she felt more at home with him. Wasn't she at last becoming like a "pal"? Yet sometimes the doubtfulimpression assailed him that she was merely acting in a sort ofgratefulness for his having brought the stylish and princely JamesAlexander Deming of Erie, Pay, to Villa Elsa. 

Gard was quite happy when his invitation to the ball was accepted. Both mother and daughter were most glad to go. He procured the boxand Frau Bucher, steeped in the practices of economy and judgingthat his means were modest, pooh-pooed with material kindness at hisidea of an expensive motor car. He insisted on compromising byordering one at five in the morning for the return. It would be anevent and he wished to carry it off quite grandly for Elsa's sake. She had never attended the Court Ball, it turned out, and, like allmaidens of Saxony, had always longed to go. 

Accordingly due preparations were started by her mother and by herin what had served, since Deming's arrival, as a kind of boudoir. The gala affair was talked over with the usual noisiness in thefamily. Anything that had to do with the King's household waswonderful. The neighbors were exultantly apprised. Certainly theBuchers were nowadays cutting a high figure--they to whom suchcostly festivities had been unknown. No one had ever associatedVilla Elsa with the wand of prodigality, and its vulgar Americanswere dumfounding. 

But, four days before the ball, Frau Bucher, in a constant conditionof agitation in her social upheaval, announced to Gard that she andFräulein could not accompany him because a telegram had beenreceived from Friedrich. His sister at Meissen was coming for theoccasion and he took it for granted that the Buchers would completehis company. Of course Friedrich and his sister could not bedisappointed. They were old friends--really a part of the family. Gard, greatly disappointed, reclaimed his money for the box andcountermanded the order for the motor. It was provoking, yet suchthings very reasonably happened. 

The next morning another telegram from the always excited VonTielitz. Plans were changed. Sister did not think she would be ableto leave. Frau Bucher would much like to go with Gard. Elsa was soanxious to dance at Court. It would be too bad to dash heranticipations to the ground. Gard spent the day renewing thearrangements. It was a pleasure to do so. 

That evening a note couched in the spacious terms of formality washanded in at his door by Tekla. Frau Bucher was extremely sorry, butFriedrich and his sister had found they could come and were makingall preparations. Herr Kirtley's invitation must be declined again. 

Beginning to be put out, he found that his box could not now bereturned. And he had no one to go with. It would be stupid to bethere without even an acquaintance. At last he thought of Anderson. The latter announced his satisfaction at the prospect of "seeing theGermans jump around. " Gard's dancing was cut off, which wasdisappointing enough, yet he could at least see the spectacle. 

The following morning, the day before the event, another wire, andanother cramped, stiff note through the diplomatic channels of thekitchen reached the attic. More regrets, but the Von Tielitzes wereunable to carry out their plan. Would not Herr Kirtley kindly renewhis invitation? This stately despatching of communications, as witha foreign power, went on side by side of and unseparated from theusual daily informal intercourse of the family. 

Gard's good nature wrestled with his balanced equilibrium andovercame it along the lines of gallant generosity. It would be apity to deprive the ladies of what they had looked forward to, although his own expectations were already marred. He would bemeanhimself sufficiently to overlook Frau's caddishness. He went in townto see if the change would suit his invited friend. Anderson bravelyrose to the occasion and accepted silently the duty of having totour the ball room now and then with his arm despairingly claspingthe rotundity of mother Bucher. 

When Gard got back to Villa Elsa, another stilted letter with a newprogramme was awaiting him. It had developed that the Von Tielitzescould come, though the sister was slightly indisposed. It would benice for all to form a party, and Frau Bucher would be so pleased ifHerr Kirtley would have them joined in. But transportation to andfro must be provided because of the sister. He had so kindly, atfirst, spoken of a motor. 

As Friedrich had admittedly no money, Gard saw that this was aproject--likely on the part of both--to saddle him with the wholeexpense. The clumsy maneuvering had got down to bargaining. He wasmad. He sent the scullery courier back definitely withdrawing allarrangements. The pleasure of his invited guest could not becomplicated. Result, the Von Tielitzes did not appear, mother anddaughter Bucher remained at home, and Kirtley went with Anderson. 

CHAPTER XXIV

THE COURT BALL

The two sat the night out in the box. The reader is familiar withThackeray's amusing references to the stuffy German Court balls. After his day and under the sway of the Empire, they had broadenedand aired out somewhat in their automaton grandeurs. 

Precisely at nine o'clock the Saxon Court entered, so far aspossible in battle array, and unlimbered to a slight extent beforetheir revering subjects. No one knew of anything this Royal familyhad ever said, commented Anderson. None of them had done anythingoriginal or brilliant except Louise, who had run off with the tutor. She could not stand the dullness here any longer. And the members ofthis Court represented civilization raised to the famous _n_thpower!

How commonplace, uninspiring, they _did_ look to Kirtley! As Germanscan illy take on polish he thought he only beheld Rudolphs andTeklas jammed into court dress. The disenchantment of a medievaldynasty at near view!

After the midnight supper Anderson, refreshed, told of anilluminating book he might write on Germany with journalisticbrevity and conciseness. It would run something like this:

 Chapter on Gentlemen and Ladies. There are few gentlemen and ladies in Germany. Chapter on Manners. There are no manners in Germany. Only orders and servility. Chapter on Charm and Delicacy. No specimens to be found. Chapter on the Milk of Human Kindness. There is no milk of human kindness in Germany. Chapter on the Absence of Arrogance. There is no absence of arrogance in Germany. 

And so forth. What did Kirtley think of it?

The journalist jestingly identified the dignitaries, the men abouttown, the titled ladies about whose bulbous red shoulders often hungscandal, and retailed other gossip from his newspaper files. Thescene indeed scintillated with lights and diamonds and crystal. Twoorchestras answered each other in a continuous strain of conqueringmusic. Swords and spurs clanked and clattered through the riotousGerman dances, adding their martial clangor to the regal sounds. Trains were stepped on, dresses torn. The retiring rooms were oftensought for repairs. Now and again commotion was caused by some heavyperson tripping on her skirts and crashing to the floor. It wasTriumphant Germany celebrating her undisputed position andpride--celebrating her mastery of the universe. 

Gard really longed at moments to be actively throbbing with it all, circling in the throng, and holding Elsa with her blond florescencein his arms. Then a certain contentment would possess him as hepictured her mother forced to stay home with blighted hankerings. What a ridiculous appearance he would have presented towing heraround here in a waltz before all these florid and grandiose figuresof state!

 * * * * *

Kirtley's disposition was somewhat slow-going, sure-footed. He had agentle or quiet conservative tenacity that so often comes with theinheritance of a moderate income. It at least gave him time to lookthings deliberately in the face. 

He had at first discounted heavily his old friend's pyrotechnic, cynical bill of complaints against the Teutons and Teutonism. It wasdiverting, salient, but therefore discouraging to credence. Suchjudgments were apt to be flashes in the pan. They startled butlacked rootage. Gard had not sufficiently taken into considerationthat the journalist was speaking at the end of seven years inGermany instead of at the beginning. When one arrives in a country, extreme snap-shot impressions readily flare forth in the mind. 

Yet the more Kirtley saw, the more did he turn toward the samedivorced mental attitude. He realized how truly the typical VillaElsa, though in quite a different key, justified Anderson'sconclusions. The performance Frau Bucher had gone through verifiedanother variant in racial traits--a variant which Anderson hadstressed. 

Namely, one must be forcible, even harsh, with a German. He does notrespond satisfactorily to kindness, leniency, liberality. Littlesunny courtesies, unselfishnesses, genial endeavors, do notcharacteristically illuminate the tenebrous interior of hisconsciousness. He misinterprets them as feeblenesses, as confessionsof his dominating rights and privileges. The more one grants to him, the more one yields to him, the more advantage and aggressiveadvantage he assumes he is invited to take. To go out of one's wayto be obliging, to attempt to ingratiate one's self, bringsdifficulties. 

But stout decision, sternness, defiant ultimatums, win out with him. As long as Gard had tried to make himself agreeable in the affair ofthe Court ball, his efforts were misunderstood and he became ahandball buffeted about for the superior convenience of others. Assoon as he finally stiffened up and mentally told them to go toperdition, the ingrowing troubles ceased with disciplinedpromptness. A satisfactory relation resulted, and a hearty respectfor him in the household, he recognized, was measureably andcontentedly increased. 

It was a little different phase of the old pagan German tribal habitof considering the outsider as one from whom all should be got thatwas possible, irrespective of return in kind or a decent proportionof benefits. To hear in hard, to gouge, are toward the foreignerprocedures relied on by the Teuton nature as appropriate. In itthere is to be found little mutuality or respectfulness of feelingthat curbs, not to speak of the social spirit that restrains orbreeds a fine dignity of self. A show of weakness in any form, however ideal or beautiful, makes small appeal. So far as any other"tribe" is concerned, life to the German is at base a knock-downargument. Misfortunes in an alien land do not awaken sympathy. Theyare rather to be regarded as windfalls, as a result of which aprofit is to be grabbed or a steely hand of control inserted whereit does not belong. 

CHAPTER XXV

FRITZI AND ANOTHER CONVERSATION

When Jim Deming returned he resumed sway over Villa Elsa, thoughwith less vehemence. The Buchers fell promptly again under hisspell, the duos were dropped, and Gard retired into the attic forstudy, varying its monotony with sojourns in town to familiarizehimself with the personal peculiarities of the German multitude. 

During the long break-up of winter, when the Teuton skies wereleaden, and it was neither cold enough nor hot enough to staycomfortably in his room, owing to the Bucher economy of heat in thismid-season, it was pleasanter to be stirring about _en ville_, and, when weary of this, seeking the agreeable cosiness of the cafés withtheir warmth of cooking and beverages that thawed one out. Heusually lunched in some one of these well-known resorts where hebecame acquainted with the _personnel_ and frequenters. It wasDeming who introduced him to the inn where Fritzi served, whom VonTielitz and Messer had urged upon Gard's attentions. Jim had learnedof it through the former. 

Imagine the tiniest of restaurants. It was scarcely large enough forsix small tables. The miniature kitchen immediately adjoined thisdining nook, so that these two rooms were in effect one. When thetwo young Americans first went there together, a very comely girlsat cutting colored papers into fantastic shapes with the apparentintention of having more floral decorations. For huge artificialbouquets decked the boards. The place was freshly painted andengagingly clean. The very low walls were covered with queer mottoesin grotesque Gothic script, with Meissen wares, Vienna glass, andalso misshapen oddities that always interest the puerile part ofmature German nature. 

There was a bust of the Emperor covered with ivy and flowerconcoctions in cardboard. The coat of arms of Saxony embellished theceiling which one could almost touch with the upraised hand. A catand a dog were taking their noon-day nap. Sausages and cake in theform of the ever-popular _Lebkuchen_ were made a specialty of here, and when Fritzi--for this was Fritzi--had served the young men shetook a seat companionably by them, as became her rôle. 

She had a rustic beauty and was sound and plump as a cherry. Herpeasant headdress was high and elaborate, winged with chickenfeathers, and her short skirts gave way before white stockingspulpily emerging from painted wooden shoes which clicked over thedull tiled floor. 

By the table she knitted, watching the eating solicitously, and wasby turns candid, sociable and saucy as a spoiled child. It was herbusiness not to be affronted by familiar remarks and actions. Shewas there to draw trade. She knew how to drop quick curtsies inresponse to compliments and tips. Although Deming acted freelytoward her like an old acquaintance, he could not make much headwayowing to the bar of language--her jargon of dialect. 

Gard, when touched with loneliness, went there several times andstruck up quite an intimacy with her, the proprietor and his wife. It was a snug spot and she was picturesque. The _Lebkuchen_ andfamous sausages, which would have been a deadly combination inAmerica, seemed to agree with him, soothed with beer. While Fritziappeared _keck_ at intervals, Gard did not see any excuse foragreeing with the scandalous hints Von Tielitz and Messer threw outabout her. They would naturally see the wench in every domestic. 

It was from the inn that Kirtley frequently went to Anderson's forthe afternoon. Gard had found it desirable to write down in anotebook some of the facts and reflections he was accumulating onthe subject of the German. He would want to show them to his oldtutor when home was reached again. Among them, Anderson's ideas andcomments were included, flanked by an occasional apothegm. 

Gard copied off a sample of their many talks in somewhat theabridged form as given below. It was when, on one of these days, Kirtley learned that Anderson had moved, and traced him to his newabode. From the window of this apartment they could see, through thebleary March light, the dowager-like Grosse Garten where Demingparaded in style with Frau Bucher and Fräulein. Although the treesand shrubbery were now so gaunt and chilly of aspect, soon theywould be green and gay with beautiful spring, and Anderson wouldfind them cheering. 

"I _am_ getting old, " he said. "I have never wanted May to hurry upso much as this year. Here I can get a good view and the birds willcome and nest in these branches. They will whistle to me. I can fillmy pocket with crumbs and go out and make their acquaintance in thesunshine and flowers. Since the war failed me again, I can see thatmy friends pull away from me. They doubtless think that no one ismore worthless than a prophet who cannot pull off his 'stunt' andhas short gray hair in the bargain. Everyone is blissfully lollingin the embraces of enduring tranquillity and I am seeking thecompanionship of trees and birds that are not troubled with themachinations and delusions of mankind. 

"So there will be this delightful summer of 1914 ahead. Christiancivilization is spreading rapidly everywhere. More Bibles being soldthan ever. More Hottentots and cannibals wearing clothes and losingtheir taste for human flesh. And so universal Peace has come tostay. There will not be another war. 

"And yet the Dresden barracks were never so full of soldiers, andthe German bases of military supplies are crammed. The munitionfactories are running on extra-time schedules. Has the world turnedtopsy-turvy or have I? Does what one actually see and hear have nomeaning any more?"

"Why do you stay in Germany?" asked Gard. "The Germans antagonizeyou. And you look upon their Government as a wicked monster preparedto leap upon its innocent prey?"

"For about the same reasons that you remain at the Buchers'. Becauseit's so often exasperating here. And that's always exciting. I guessit's the Irish strain in us. Want to stick around where there's agood prospect for trouble--want something to swear at. And Iconsider it my duty to remain here as a sign post of warning. I amcarrying about a small red flag with DANGER on it. If the Germanswin command of the world, I will be here on the ground all ready tostart in as a German and will have a great advantage over nearly allYankees. I have conned my green book of irregular verbs, which Ithink would bother most of them considerably. I have got accustomedto the German eating and drinking which I imagine would prove thedeath of most of them, too. I have learned to sleep athwart theGerman bed--no small feat, as you know. For everything must becomeGermanized under German rule. Teutons know no other method. "

"Is that the meaning of the sort of happy, triumphant feeling thatone finds in Germany? It seems to pervade the whole Empire--rich andpoor, merchant and peasant, housewife and children. "

"Yes, because they know a victorious war is coming and they will allbe lords and masters. The Empire will stretch out wide and therewill be work at the highest wages and plenty of money. The Germanwill be able to travel on his own railroads throughout most ofEurope and Turkey. No matter how servile he may be at home, everyonewill kowtow to him abroad. 

"It will be a short, decisive campaign. It will cost some blood andsome treasure, but then--the German millennium! The people a eager, ripe, fit for it. The coveted Government jobs will be more numerousand remunerative. They will confer more power on the incumbents, for they will be largely connected with conquered provinces. TheGerman Michel will be no longer cramped up in his mid-continent. ". .. 

CHAPTER XXVI

SOME OF THE LESS KNOWN EFFICIENCY

"Why is it that this seems to be a nation of professionals whileours seems to be a nation of amateurs? I suppose it is, of course, because of the more general spread here of thorough instruction. "

"Yes, with us unskilled mediocrity is the popular level because itis within the reach of everyone in a democracy. With the German, high skilled, highly instructed efficiency is the ideal. The failureof America to rise into the expert level is due to our unenforcedhigher education. We compel our people to have a common schooleducation in order to preserve the Republic. Its voters must knowhow to read and write and 'figger' or they won't be able to voteintelligently. 

"Now if we did in addition what Germany does, we would insist, asfar as practicable, on advanced education or instruction in everyfamily. Then we, too, would have a wealth of trained talent. Comparing the riches and population of the two countries there is amuch greater proportion of university men and other competentlyinstructed men in Germany. Only relatively few Americans can showdiplomas for genuine and severe mental training. Take your ownBucher family as an illustration. All its men will have sheepskinsthat are worth while to show. With us, out of such a family nonewould have a sheepskin, or at most one. One of the boys might havegone to a university. And as for the difference in the women--littlecomparison. Your Frau, as you have told me, has several frameddiplomas to her credit. 

"You can see what a tremendous advantage all this gives the Germanpeople over us. You have hit it very well--we are nearly alwaysamateurs. They are nearly always able to be professionals. "

"Is it the same with the laboring classes--the mechanics and allthat?"

"The same is true, in its way. A poor American boy thinks he willlike to be a machinist. He gets a job as a new hand on a salary. Heworks at it a couple of years. Then somebody offers him ten dollarsa week more to drive a truck, which is a simple, elementary task. Hedrops his machinist career for this. He gets more money and itrequires no tedious training. So he remains an indifferent mechanic. It's the money he's looking for, not the satisfaction of proficiencyin a skilled trade. 

"Now, by contrast, the future of the poor German child is decided ina fashion at about the age of ten. When a boy is elected to go intoindustry, for instance, he is apprenticed at about fourteen for, say, four years to be a mechanic. He is given no wages. In fact hehas to pay something, very often, for the opportunity to learn. Buthe must, at the same time, attend what they call here continuingschools. It is these schools, which we do not have in America, thathold him fixed to his line of work--prevent him from jumping fromone kind of thing to another. He not only works in the shop but isforced to go to a continuing school. 

"Hence at eighteen the German factory and Government are sure tofind in him just the kind of instructed worker they need. There hasnever been any danger of his meanwhile changing to driving a truck. He sticks to his trade through life. He becomes a master mechanic. You can't lure him away into an unskilled channel by more money. It's not the money alone he is thinking of. It is also the pride ofhaving a specific calling that lifts him out of the greatcommonplace market of untrained labor. So Germany is full ofcompetent mechanical men while we limp along with our huge supply ofthe partly experienced. Every such German knows how to do at leastone thing as well as and usually better than anyone else. 

"This is one big reason why Germany is pushing ahead of every nationin the industrial world and one reason why I fear her. No matterwhat she wants to do, she has an abundance of efficient brain andmuscle right at hand with which to do it well and at once. In ourgreat United States the lack of this is the bane of Americanindustry and development, and causes such immense and continual lossin time and money because of our having to deal with such a mass ofinexperienced young workmen. 

"But more than this. The German who is taught a trade acquires notonly the technic of it in a shop or laboratory, but also acquiresin his studies something of an enlightening and inspiring knowledgeof its history and significance. He is, consequently, much more thana mere drudge. He is made intelligent about his calling. Thisparticular feature, so pregnant and valuable, is not incorporated inthe American plan, if we can be said to have a plan in thesematters. For the Yankee ambition is to make plenty of money in _any_quick way, and therefore to rise above a trade which a German iscontent to remain in. We feel no keen necessity about carefulinstruction in such vocations. Luck, "pull, " "cheek, " merecleverness, are prominently relied on in its stead. 

"There is another thing in this trade instruction that we do nothave in any noticeable degree. It teaches the German mechanic tobecome wedded to his Nation and Government. He is made to realizethe great benefits and responsibilities he owes to them. He becomesan integral national citizen ready to serve his homeland. He istaught to think of something higher than his pay envelope. Under oursystem such a mechanic grows up loosely connected in thought andacts with the governing public under which he enjoys all hisliberty and opportunity. In so far as national necessities go he isapt to be a weakened unit or pulling the wrong way. Unlike theGerman, he has been educated to have no self-sacrificing ideal ofstate or country. "

Anderson had, at one time, drawn Gard's attention to the immenseadvantage Germany uniquely derived by completely organizing andkeeping at work that vast majority of incurable mediocrities--mereplodders--who are found in every race and who often weigh down itsdestiny to the point of sinking hopelessness. 

Kirtley had since observed that one conspicuous German method waslargely to employ this empty talent in small Government jobs. Ingeneral, these tasks seemed to be expressly for the swarming anduninspired nonentities, and meant most trivial duties for trivialpay. But such tasks kept this population occupied, orderly and morethan self-respecting. In America incurable mediocrity is left toshift for itself in huge masses. 

The natural ambition of a Teuton was to be in the national service. Rare was the German family who had not one member in "Governmentcircles. " Or if not, it was building expectations toward such afuture. One in every eight wage-earning men a bureaucrat! It was notonly a question of the salary, assured if small, but the honor. AnyGovernment clerk or roustabout, not to speak of functionaries inhigher duties, was looked up to in a way unfamiliar in America, forunder that continuous régime his position remained fixed for life. Government officials and employees in the United States are quitefreely thrown out under the frequent election upheavals and mayto-morrow be ordinary citizens bereft of any sort of authority overtheir fellows. So they enjoy only a passing deference. 

In Germany, owing to the use of plodders who made up extensively itsubiquitous and commanding official class, this bureaucratic schemeproved useful in more ways than one. It put faith and expectationinto these stolid, menial lives and took them out of the ranks ofthe idle and discontented dullards who, in other countries, are asource of danger or decay. It attached Fritz firmly and loyally tothe Nation. It held the links between the ruling caste and thepeople hard and tight. At the same time it tied his family andfriends to the Hohenzollern, uniting them in a bond almost servile. The ever-swelling ranks of bureaucrats, in such a large measureimbecile and applying themselves to imbecile occupations, strengthened the incomparable solidarity of the race. And it wasthis army of State employees who were actively helping diffusethrough Germany in 1913 the frothy ideas of a national triumph thatintoxicated the populace. 

But Kirtley, admiring this manifestation of practical andadministrative wisdom, felt that there must be somewhere atremendous weak spot. The expense of this plan and its withdrawal ofmuscle and even poor brain from directly productive channels, werecostly. And there was about it a pompous vacancy, an arrogantnonsensicalness, a latent peril resulting from such a large numberof automatons in unquestioned positions, that should all logicallyindicate this: If Germany once broke, it would collapse somewhatlike an eggshell. It would be a formidable eggshell but with acontent surprisingly void. 

In a sentence, the mighty German bureaucracy kept the populationfrom thinking. It meant--Obey and make no inquiry! And where inhistory, Gard asked himself, has a nation of such political and bodyslaves endured as against nations where the common individual wasfree to ask questions? Slavery in any important form is acknowledgedto be an outworn, decadent economic policy. It cannot compete in thelong run. 

As a result of this bureaucratic domination in Germany there were, as Kirtley observed, many aspects of the organized public life soexcessively worked out and applied in their development as to beunbelievable to Americans who had not come in actual contact withthem. These logical extremes and exhaustive minutiæ often enoughcombined a ferocious ostentation and comical absurdness that were solittle realized by those afar who learned of the mighty seriousnessand intelligence of the Germans merely from the printed page. Theconduct and operations of the limitless bureaucracy were usually theform in which the foreigner in the flesh ran counter to thisunconscionable discipline. 

Of all this Government routine, the spy system stood out in relief, although, at the same time, it was so dovetailed into the civiladministration as to be frequently indistinguishable. Like atypical Yankee Gard, always greatly impressed by the generalemphasis everywhere laid on the perfection of the Germans and theirmethods in everything, had regarded Anderson's remarks and hintsabout the spy régime as exaggerations. He still could not believethat Rudolph was a kind of Government sleuth or that Teutonexistence was honeycombed from cellar to roof with officialsuspicion and the tyranny of the detective. 

But this phase was now brought within range of his personalknowledge, and he had a glimpse of this famous German service. And through whom? Of all persons, Jim Deming. Strange to relate, it brought to a sudden head the latter's stirring courtship ofFräulein Elsa. 

CHAPTER XXVII

THE IMPERIAL SECRET SERVICE

After New Year he had organized a little informal dancing club amongthe Americans. He called it the Cinderella Cotillion Coterie, inalliterative compliment to the daintiness of the ladies. He was theself-constituted secretary and sole official. 

For the birthday of the Father of our country he sent out to themembers a rollicking printed invitation reading:

 In honor of our George's birthday, which comes as usual this year on February the twenty-second, the inimitable CCCs will hold one of their regular reunions in pumps, beginning punctually at nine. Full beer orchestra as usual. No flowers or singing of hymns. 

 By order

 JAMES ALEXANDER DEMING, Sec. , CCC. R. S. V. P. --the Senate and the Roman People. 

The notice at least gave evidence that Jim had been in Italy. 

Several weeks after the pleasant event, when he had forgotten allabout it, he was loafing in his room one morning after breakfast, smoking an eccentric pipe from his collection, and comfortinghimself over his decision once more that German teachers andgrammars are a failure. 

A thump was heard at his door. He called out _Herein!_ whereat aperson in uniform strode in and stuck into Deming's hands a majesticcommunication from which he made out with some difficulty that hewas peremptorily ordered to appear at Police Headquarters at eleventhat forenoon. Fully conscious of the political innocence of hisconduct, he welcomed this new diversion and, humming the latestopera bouffe air, he dressed in his best with a posy in his lapel. 

His gay feelings were a little dampened at the Platz where heencountered a massive solemnity and sullen looks as if he were anarch criminal of State. A ponderous minor individual, not unarmed, commanded him to be seated in front of his desk and, eying himsternly, handed over one of Jim's invitations to the GeorgeWashington party. 

"Do you know of this?"

"Yes, sir, " replied Jim, surprised that this harmless missive hadturned up among the Police, and wondering what it could all beabout. 

"Have you authorization?"

"Authorization, sir?"

"What _is_ this?" roared the petty functionary. 

"Why, nothing at all. It means dance--ball--a little dance we had. "

"Dance--ball. " The other repeated the words with a severity thatchamped upon its bits. "Are you this party?" He tried to pronounceJim's formidable name on the card. 

"Yes, sir. "

"What does this mean--Sec. , CCC?" he roared again. 

Deming was getting upset, confused besides by his inadequatevocabulary. 

"I don't know in German, but in English we say Secretary of theCinderella Cotillion Coterie. "

"Ah, you say _Secretary_. It is English. " And an enlightenedsatisfaction furrowed the hardened face of the interlocutor. Then, abruptly to Deming's relief:

"You may go. "

As Jim rose to leave he found a court flunkey at either elbow. Theyescorted him out with a military precision and flourish. Hecongratulated himself on the easy way he had got through with it. Hemust have somehow managed it pretty well. 

Two days later, in the evening, an attendant from the IntelligenceOffice ushered himself into Deming's room without announcement. Hebore a summons for the next day. 

"Well, of all the damned fools!" Jim exclaimed to himself. "Theydon't seem to know I'm a free American citizen. I'll tell them thistime. They are getting too familiar--walking into a chap's roomwithout waiting to be invited. "

This time he was brought before a higher official with a moreexalted mien, and manners of inextinguishable anger. He held thetell-tale notice of February twenty-second in his horny paw. Demingwas this time not asked to sit down. 

"Who's this George?" was demanded. 

"Why, that's our great George, " confirmed Jim, sharing with jauntyconfidence this bit of universal knowledge. 

"George--George--the king of England, " was the gratifyingconclusion. 

"And what does this mean?"

"That's Senate and the Roman People. That's just a joke. "

"Senate--Senate! Official. "

Several of the glowering army folk stood about. They took onmenacing airs of importance, following the lead of their chief. Aninternational intrigue, involving a foreign king and senate, wasbeing rapidly unraveled. Deming was so suddenly and summarilydismissed again that he forgot to tell them proudly he was a freeAmerican citizen--with a hundred million people behind them. 

He was becoming worried and consulted the experience of MilesAnderson whom he had, of course, met through Kirtley. 

"In the toils of the German high police!" chuckled Anderson. "Thatis certainly funny. "

"But what am I to do to get rid of them?" inquired Jim anxiously. "It seems I have no privacy. And I don't want to be going to thePlatz all the time. Hadn't I better turn it over to our Consulate?"

"Heavens, no. American consuls won't do anything for you. They areconsiderably Germanic anyhow--work in with the local authorities. It's our easy-going American way. If you want anything done, go tothe British or Japanese. Then you will get action. Our officialattitude seems to be that an American ought not to be away fromAmerica. If he is away, he must look out for himself--has few rightsabroad. The Germans respect the English and Japs for they meanbusiness and their consular service is not to be trifled with. "

"I don't want to go to foreigners--get this thing all advertisedabout--go to all that trouble. "

"Then tell the Germans to go to hell. That's the only way to get onwith Germans. They are used to being sworn at. They will quit youthen. If you don't, they will keep you trotting to Headquarters forsix months. If you try to be nice, try to placate them, you'llsimply get into hotter water. They don't understand such things. They think they are uncovering a vast conspiracy. CinderellaCotillion Coterie! Gad, of all the farcical happenings I have comeacross even in Germany!"

Deming was braced up by this advice, and if anything more came ofthe incident he determined to see it through with some of Anderson'sgood American bluff and independence. 

The following morning he was plashing about in his bath tub when thedoor was bluntly opened and then partly closed. He faced around inamazement at the audacity of anyone boldly intruding into a bathroom--the only place left in Germany for the self-respecting NakedCult. His eyes fell upon another uniformed emissary from the Police. This one was very obsequious and bowed and scraped his excuses forthe unseemly interruption. 

"Excuse me, mein Herr, but I heard water splashing and I thought youwere at breakfast. "

Jim had adopted the fashion of talking derogatorily in English toGermans who, not understanding, usually agreed with his sentiments. This always amused him and satisfied his injured feelings. 

"That's the way with you Germans. When you hear a noise, you thinksomeone is eating. "

"Ja wohl, ja wohl, mein Herr, " assented the incomer with crudeagreeableness, all the while grinning in shamefacedness. Andfloating in the water Jim received another order, from theretreating and apologizing minion of the law, to stand at attentionat Headquarters. He was unfamiliar with courts of any sort and didnot know he should ask for an interpreter. That the officials hadnot as yet used one showed apparently an attempt to let the accused, thus handicapped, stumble into an incriminating confession. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

JIM DEMING'S FATE

The scene was now transferred to a third chamber which lookedsomewhat like an august tribunal of state. It was an imposing roomdivided by a long high rostrum upon which sat a terrible lookingindividual of the utmost lordliness. The attendants were numerous, and if Deming had ever heard of the trial of Warren Hastings hewould have thought this appeared an occasion of almost equalimportance and gravity. When he arrived for his ordeal before thebench, he seemed a rather small and defenseless figure. 

For he was now to be subjected to a sort of "third degree, " with acourt interpreter at hand. Every word that might be significant inhis bedeviling invitation of February twenty-second was gone overwith the minatory harshness of medieval inquisitors. 

"February twenty-second. Why is that day?"

Deming explained through his intermediary. His interrogatorspersisted in the idea that it was a pregnant date in English historyand had some sinister meaning like Guy Fawkes day. The pages ofBritish annals had evidently been scanned to find the hidden clew. 

"'No flowers or singing of hymns. ' What is all this?"

"Just a joke, tell him, just a little innocent fun, " appealed Jim tohis translator. 

"You signed yourself as Secretary. That contravenes the law. You hadno authority to assume an official position without conferring. "

Then there was the mighty Senate and the Roman People again on themystic communication with its cryptic letters as full of mystery asrunes to these Germans. It was, of course, the language of a code. 

"Tell him that there is no such thing in the world as the RomanSenate and People, " explained Deming with nervous despair. "That wasjust fooling. Nothing political--nothing _political_!" he exclaimed. Everything became less convincing and therefore visibly moresatisfactory, and looks and voices grew savage in proportion. 

There was also the occult CCC. 

"Who is Cinderella? Is he in Dresden with you? Where is he to befound?" The word was indicated by a big thumb. Poor Jim, whosespecific information was as limited about Cinderella as about mostsubjects, entered nevertheless on a long explanation not onlyconcerning her but concerning the playful innocence of the GeorgeWashington meeting. 

"Tell him it was a harmless little social affair that a few of usfellows and girls got up. We will never do it again. I did not knowit would be any offense. Tell him I was only doing what I would doin my own country. There we can get together and dance a little anytime without disturbing the nation. " He wanted to add that theUnited States was not like police-ridden Germany where it almostseemed that a chap couldn't tie his shoe without permission from theKaiser. Prudence refrained him. 

"Cotillion Coterie. That's French, " translated the Ober-Offizier onthe bench, gravely illuminated. An assistant suggested that _sec_might, in fact, refer to champagne. That would be French too. 

"When did you leave France the last time?" the other demanded in ahoarse, triumphant tone. 

"Never been in France, " returned Jim in a loud voice. 

"Never been in France and yet you use French fluently. "

"Tell him I don't know a word of French. I didn't know that wasespecially French. With us it's just dancing language--everybodyuses it. Tell him"--Jim added encouragingly--"tell him I never knewa Frenchman in my life. "

"This is evidently a French affair as well as English, " commentedthe officer. "Anglo-French. Reaches out. "

"What are they saying?" anxiously asked Deming of his intermediary. 

On learning the new and extensive ramifications into which thesportive CCC was leading him, he threw up his hands before hethought and exclaimed, "Oh, my God!" It expressed his disgustedconfirmation of Mr. Anderson's assertion--"What egregious asses suchGermans can be!"--and also his _own_ alarm over his situation. Whenwould he get back to America at this rate? It was going to costmoney to escape from this scrape, and how would his governor andmother feel about it? A few months in a political prison with ratsand vermin crawling over him seemed ahead instead of the jollysummer he had planned. He cursed under his breath the member of theCCC who had carelessly let his card get away from his clutches. 

But a greater surprise awaited him. It revealed an example of thetremendous thoroughness and immense detail that were the pride ofthe Teuton bureaucracy. Deming was taken off his feet. The chiefheld up a little battered sheet. 

"Have you always paid your bills in Germany?"

"Yes, I have, sir, " returned Jim, wondering at this strange turn, but fully sure of himself on this ground. 

"Untruth. Why did you not pay for three candles left in your room atKarlsruhe? Here is the unreceipted slip. "

"Because I did not use them. I did not want them. I left them on themantel. "

"And here is a balance due on your laundry bill at Hamburg--twelvecents--unpaid. How do you explain that?" A torn and dirty washingschedule was handed down to him to refresh his memory. 

"I didn't know I owed any balance, " argued Jim to his spokesman. "Tell him it was not presented to me. Tell him I will be only tooglad to pay anything I owe. I always pay what I owe. " The examinergingerly took up a crumpled napkin, brown from an overturned_demi-tasse_. 

"August sixteenth, you spilled coffee on your napkin atlunch--half-past twelve. And you went away from the HotelBellevue--Bavaria--without making it good. What have you tosay to that?" The sorry cloth was held up contemptuously forJim's inspection and for the edification of the duly painedofficial audience, most of whom, however, doubtless made nouse of such an article in their daily lives. 

"I never heard anything about it!" cried Deming. "In my countrysuch things are thrown in. Nothing said about them. But tell himI'll pay it--I'll pay anything--everything. How much is it?"

"Twenty-five cents, the bill claims. "

"What is the total?" And Jim began digging in his pockets whileholding up his head testily. He had never before been accused ofhotel-beating. But payment did not yet appear to be in order. Hestared at the mass of files and papers before his cross-questioner. He realized that his whole record in Germany lay there. The ImperialService had traced him like bloodhounds. Due to his frequentirritated displays of proud American independence on his tour, thebill of small grievances, now accumulated, no doubt assumedtroublesome proportions when exposed in its formidable length. Threehours had been consumed, accounted for in part by the necessity ofan interpreter. As meal time was at hand Deming was commanded toappear the next morning at nine to have his testimony taken atlength. 

He departed, his buoyant nature rising once more in partial relief. True to his Yankee instincts he now concluded they were only afterthe money he owed. 

"They want to scare me to make me pay up, " he said to himself. "Theyare afraid they won't get it. I'll pay the little two or threedollars and that will end the matter. These blamed Germans withtheir ten cents and twenty-five cents! What a system of governmentto be bothering with these idiotic trifles!"

He sought distraction in several games of billiards followed bydinner at his favorite café. When he returned to his room late thatnight he found that his effects had been ransacked by twodetectives. Fully incensed by this high-handed procedure hedetermined to place his inalienable rights in the hands of a lawyerthe first thing after the early morning meeting. 

The taking of his testimony was a proceeding held in a small sideapartment before an elderly crotchety underling who pretended tounderstand English and French, but whose thick-wittedness seemedmonumental. The slowness and dullness indicated a whole summer'sprogramme of this preposterous horseplay. Everything was beingwritten down in detail in long hand in the form of questions andanswers. All Deming's candles, soiled linen, stained napkins andwhat-not, reported from all directions of the Empire, began to beraked over. There were green, yellow, red, blue telegrams from halfthe German States. Harassed by this muck and by the leering tauntsof the old party, Jim was glad to find, at the noon hour, that thesession was postponed to the second day after. 

As he was leaving the room, another offensive inquiry about anabsurdity caused him suddenly to remember Mr. Anderson's advice. Andin one immortal moment in his existence he rose to a sublime heightof moral courage. 

"Go to hell!" he shot back. And as he saw the clumsy servitorbeginning to pen "Answer: Go to h----" in his great book, Jimslipped out. 

He briskly hunted a lawyer to whom he related all the circumstances, winding up elatedly with the last remark. 

"Did they write that down too?"

"Yes. "

The attorney was at first convulsed, familiar with Teuton naïveté. Then he dubiously shook his head. To Jim's unexpected discomfort theaffair was regarded seriously. If he had not ejaculated thisaffront, something could be done. But now he had been guilty of whatthe Germans might rightfully construe as a voluntary indignityoffered to the Imperial Secret Service in the performance of itshighly responsible duties. If he wanted to avoid important trouble, the only simple and effective course would be to quit the country. He could leave that night and in not many hours would be in Russiaand beyond German control. 

And so Jim Deming made a hasty and unceremonious exit from theDeutschland he had been so fond of, without having time to saluteany of his many friends good-by. He had to send them a line offarewell from St. Petersburg. 

"Here you have German bureaucracy in its full flower and odor, "remarked Anderson as he recounted the affair to Kirtley. "Itflourishes to a great extent by exaggerating mole hills intomountains with officious vacuity. It is so large that there is notenough serious work for it. So something often must be found to do. It is a civil army radiating the glory of the Kaiser. The moreextensive it is, the more entrenched he is. It is official dry rotwhich is part of the price the people pay for having themselvesgoverned. It is national graft. But while our American forms ofgraft at least stimulate individual cleverness among ourcompatriots, this German form tends to reduce its recipients to thelevel of donkeys, as seen in the Deming case. "

Gard little suspected that he was to drift into a somewhat similarmisadventure, but of an advanced type. 

CHAPTER XXIX

WINTER AND SPRING

The sudden drop in the life in Villa Elsa occasioned by meteoric JimDeming's disappearance, was terrific. Frau Bucher gasped, caught herbreath and sank voluminously beneath the waters of social oblivionwhence she had so grandly emerged. When she finally came up to herplain surface of existence she demanded, Where are now the theaterparties, and drives in the Grosse Garten behind the King? The familyhad almost begun to wonder how they had got on before. She wailed:

"The good Herr Deming, the marvelous Herr Deming! How could he haveabruptly left us? Something mightily strange must have forced him togo. He will surely return. How could he treat Elsa so? Here we arewith our hopes, our plans and our new underwear. It is terrible. "

For several days the house resounded with perturbation. Thisgradually decreased as the readjustment to the former flatconditions took place. The transition was not completed until theinformation arrived that Herr Deming was never coming back. Thefinal stroke. It was indeed pitiable, tragic, amusing. And allbecause the American custom of flirtation was unknown to thesematter-of-fact Germans, so deadly in earnest about everything. 

But, Teuton-like, the brave ship Villa Elsa soon righted itself, being used to blows. It had at least entertained and beenentertained by one of the Golden Youths of Good Fortune whoselegends gild the expectations of every race. And it was a superiorsatisfaction to realize that this had not happened elsewhere inLoschwitz. 

There were left behind no lingering animosities, no painfulgrievings. Feelings were too stout, sensibilities too tough, toadmit of acknowledging rancors or sickly complaints. The daughter'smarriageable future was apparently faced again with courageousdetermination. As she could not be a luxurious American queen, shemust be a German housewife who ranked, to say the least, high_enough_ in the eyes of Gott. But what German's wife? Oddly enoughFrau Bucher, despite all her bluntness, never let a hint out of thebag of her franknesses before Kirtley. 

After Jim Deming's second riotous invasion of Villa Elsa, when therehad been confirmed the abject and tumultuous surrender of the twoladies, mind, body and soul, to mere money, prostrate at the feet ofan American "pig, " Gard experienced a numbness of heart. True, thedaughter was tied to the apron strings of her mother. But then Jimcould only fling his pocketbook in her face. He had done it and she, sheep-like, had obviously accepted the situation without a question, a murmur. 

How could he, as an American, gage such a blank lack of character, individuality? How different was this trait from that which wasexhibited by the energetic prosecution of her talents where herpersonality, shining forth so steadily, held his admiration almostundimmed! This was a baffling interrogation that furnished anotherevidence to Kirtley of a gaping chasm separating the Teutons fromother peoples. The highest ideal of German character is expressed byworks. The highest ideal of "Christian" character is expressed byself. 

Spring was now at hand. The sunlit air invited to the out-doorlife. The windows and doors of Villa Elsa, which was stale andstuffy from the closed-up winter, stood open and the inmatescame out of their hibernation, shook themselves and welcomedthe warmth and lack-luster brightness. The lindens and planetrees and shrubberies began to hug the place under their cosyleafage. Herr Bucher's rose garden was prepared to grow merrywith colors. The companionable garden corner for afternoon teaand beer became a nook of liveliness. The oncoming summer sentforth generally its exulting thrills. 

This fine surging-in of sunny, revivifying Nature took at first sucha strong and glad hold on Gard that his private emotions, which Elsahad so promptly sharpened and whose edge had become dulled, seemedto lay themselves pleasantly aside for the moment. Whether they wereto become whetted again into keen interest remained to be seen, forthe awakening green and white noon-tide of actual existence wasabsorbing. 

Apparently she was not greatly affected by Deming's departure. She betook herself to her lessons and duties with well-drilleddiligence. The years were cut out for her. She had only to followthe pattern. How much more fortunate it would be, Gard had oftenfelt, if she were detached from her semi-civilized household! Herown attractions would then be freed from the surrounding thorns, prickly hedges, that bruised and tore and dismayed one. AnAmerican chap could marry her--but oh, her family!

It was not long, however, before she missed meals. She had begunagain being mysteriously mute at times in her room, over the Heinepoems. Gard had almost forgotten them. 

There were no promenades this early season in the meadow, with thepoet. No duos were played. Winter, for that matter, was a morefavorable time for them, as it was also for the family concerts. 

Fräulein observed a meaningless familiarity with Kirtley as if hewere an old member of the home circle. He wondered again if Rudolphhad influenced and troubled from the first her relations withhimself. And nowadays Tekla was surly toward him. She served himunwillingly and grabbed his occasional _Trinkgelds_ with scarcely athank-you. Had Rudi, with whom he had had hardly any contact, stirred her up against him out of sheer unjustified Satanism?

The spring weather somewhat curtailed, mollified, all the frankirascibility and wrangling that went on in the house, and it wasunder the lukewarm spell of this German virgin summer-time that theroutine took on its most agreeable aspects, though accompanied withthe usual Teuton domestic din. It was, in fact, very enjoyable, contrasted with what the cold months had permitted. 

In the winter a pleasant feature had been the theater or operanights. Darkness then came at four. Dinner would be served at fivein order to reach the amusement place at half past six or seven. Byeleven the family were back in Loschwitz, sitting down, starved, toa bouncing supper where frequently Kirtley regaled himself with thetoothsome Pumpernickel. Over the hot dishes the feverish points ofthe entertainment were discussed, exclaimed about, while the partycooled off and solaced themselves with Schultheiss. These wererousing and satisfying little happenings. 

Free public lectures had also been a source of enjoyment to theBuchers during the long frigid fortnights. Of the five senses, Gardreflected, hearing is the only good one the Germans possess. Theyhear, absorb through hearing, to better advantage than other races. They close their eyes and drink in seriously. Naturally enough comesabout the universality of their music and lectures. 

Of these public dissertations a course on the Union between GreekPhilosophy and Greek Poetry was especially raved over in Villa Elsa. Gard attended one of these evenings, inspired by the instructionalardors of Frau and Fräulein and Ernst. The example of little Ernst, avid of such intellectual pleasures at his tender age, everimpressed Gard anew. He thought of American lads in comparison. 

The German professor, as is well known, occupies a much more potentand exalted position in Germany than the American professor inAmerica. He is considered a reliable fount of wisdom. He speaks withsure authority. He is an oracle, permanent and sounding afar. 

On this occasion, precisely at eight o'clock, in a majesticuniversity hall, Kirtley saw this particular grand and popularorator ascend the pulpit. He was in full dress--white waistcoat, white tie, white kids. He was large, shapely, commanding. The womenwere "at his feet. " He stood there solemnly as the clock wasstriking, and slowly removed his gloves and inserted them under hiscoat tail. And for exactly an hour there was a remarkable flow offormidable, finished periods, without a note, without a hesitation. Gard really felt there would never be anything else to say aboutBeauty, so profound, so complete, so final, seemed this survey ofthe topic. 

At the close the audience flocked to the speaker as if to anOlympian victor. Frau Bucher was ecstatic, covering him with hercompliments while insisting on waiting for a propitious moment tointroduce Herr Kirtley. But as Gard remained there at the lecturer'selbow, he met with another disillusion about German professors. Thislocally famous man, so correctly dressed to outward view, wore noshirt collar under his beard. His neck and ears showed no signs ofrecent ablutions and were bushy with unkempt hairs. And he exhaled arank odor compounded of perspiration and dirt. 

Gard almost choked, being crowded into close contact. Could he everget fully accustomed to German smells? It was most unpleasant, disenchanting. He could not, it appeared, find himself attractedto Teuton university expounders--those gods of wisdom who hadrepulsed him. 

Whether it was his unfortunate luck or not, he was not able tosummon a desire to go again. He had not forgotten his otherexperience. It was a part of that something fundamentally, monumentally lacking in the German race--something shoddy, deceptive, which he had met with at so many turns. 

CHAPTER XXX

VILLA ELSA OUTDOORS

In the vernal season the lectures and theaters were dropped forneighborhood excursions of which the Buchers, like all Germanfamilies, were extremely fond. A rendezvous would be made fordinner, for instance, at some attractive spot up the Elbe. It wouldbe a walking trip from Loschwitz along the winding banks or up on ahigher path stretching from one smooth, low-lying hilltop toanother. Everywhere the invigorating odor of pine lay in the air. The company assembled by twos or singly at their convenience duringthe late afternoon. Generally the Herr would be last. And when hewas spied approaching, with a cock's feather in his hat andsupporting himself authoritatively on his big stick, a chorus ofacclaim greeted him, for craving appetites were now to besatisfied. 

The household would pass the evening dining _al fresco_ and enjoyingthe landscape studded with historic and other enduring memories. Near by was Hosterwitz, where Weber composed "Oberon" and "DerFreischütz. " Often mists from the Elbe rose mystically to engarlandthe crenelated castles here and there on the heights. A drowsy riverboat in that long agreeable northern twilight would finally gatherup the family at the dock and drop them off at home. 

Sundays were the favorite time for these little outings. Lessons, classes, tasks, were then lightened. Gard had quickly become awarein Germany that the Sabbath is considerably a day of work as well aspleasure. The usual impression in America that the Germans arereligious, not to speak of being moral, was dispelled. This had beena fragment of his erroneous idea that they are active Protestants inthe sense that carries any Calvinistic or ethical meaning. 

Neither the Buchers, nor any of the families whom Kirtley metthrough them, went to church. The Protestant churches were, in fact, gloomy, tasteless and almost empty. Their services appearedcheerless and forbidding. Tremendous fear was their keynote. Itseemed far more agreeable to a German to partake of the nationalsacrament out in a beer garden. 

His attitude seemed to be that his race were born soconstitutionally and thoroughly in line with Divineness that theydid not need to _do_ anything about it. The religious element, as ashaper of conduct and thought, was accordingly not required. As forany restraining power, the Government furnished all of this that wasnecessary. 

At any rate the rulers looked after religion. They observedall-sufficiently its rites. They stood next to Deity and representedand protected the people. Kirtley remarked that when the ordinaryGerman began talking of God, which was rare, he was soon talking ofthe Emperor. Both deities were ever solicitous for him, workingtirelessly in his behalf. The Kaiser was properly the nationalbusybody, the head schoolmaster, who attended to everybody andeverything and drove all constantly forward toward a unified andsplendid destiny. 

Thus arose the firm belief of the Germans in their naturalrighteousness--the righteousness of how they act, what theypossess. Gard saw there existed among them little virtue in the wayof religion to offer the youth of other lands. To send an Americanson or daughter to Deutschland for such influence and benefit wasbut another example of the prevailing misconception of realTeutonism. 

Many an evening the family dined at the famous Schiller Garden whichstretched along the shore, just across the river. Knitting andsewing and books were taken along, a large table was secured, andthere the members ate and refreshed themselves with liquids inleisurely fashion from six o'clock until bed time. There would beplenty of talking and smoking and plying of needles as the moonlightor river lights danced forth to guide the active river traffic andalso the large inflowings and outflowings of restaurant guests. Andall to the bracing music of a capital orchestra reeling off jubilantmarches and waltzes. 

These were good times when the German was to be observed under themost favorable colors. After Tekla's little tragedy snatched heraway from Villa Elsa, as will soon be seen, this dining out becamethe regular event of the day. 

On one of these occasions in the Schiller Garden the conversationfell once more on America. The subject had not been touched sincethe eruption over Yankee "pigs". It had lain dormant under themesmeric effect of Jim Deming's appearance. 

Gard gathered the following for his notebook. The Buchers maintainedthat, even if the Hohenzollerns were not wanted, they were necessaryto hold Germany together. Otherwise she would split up into manyimpotent states and be at the mercy of the solidary races adjoiningher. But who could not want the Hohenzollerns? They had made ofGermany--really a small, poor country--a mighty power. Look at hugeAmerica, by contrast! She was weak, disorganized, aimless. She wasthe proverbial giant with few bones. The western half of the UnitedStates was still practically undeveloped, and yet it abounded innatural wealth. 

Then there was the Monroe Doctrine. It was a baseless fiat for whichthere was no legal or moral justification--as arrogant a presumptionas could be claimed of any edict of a Kaiser. The Buchers assertedthat the Doctrine was a crime against humanity. It had kept, for ahundred years, South America and Central America indifferentlycivilized, miserably governed, their thin populations uneducated, thriftless, superstitious, bigoted. Said the Herr:

"If our Germany had had full access to that half hemisphere it wouldbe in a full blaze of progress. It would be affording prosperoushomes to untold millions of Europeans now packed together likesardines. The mines, forests, rich soils, grazing lands, would havelong ago been completely opened up, tilled, occupied, for thebenefit of man who is still, in the main, inadequately fed andclothed. We Germans can, admittedly, manufacture cheaper and bettergoods than anyone. We ought to be free in our way and by our ownmethods to supply those Americas with the necessities and comfortsof civilization and make them rich and happy. 

"Their mongrel races are poverty stricken, disease stricken, andoften fighting among themselves. The United States does little forthem. Nor will she let anyone else. She plays the dog in the mangerto the detriment of the world. And this is because she is vain, timid and without plan. Is that logical, wise and serving mankindfor the best? Were conditions reversed, would she herself favor sucha backward, lagging programme?"

Kirtley admitted to himself that this was a very good and validpoint of view for Germans. He recognized its general source, for theBuchers, in the Dresden newspapers. But he did not enter intoargument. He had satisfied himself that argument with Teutons, whodo not have open minds, who are obsessed by fixed ideas bored intothem, can only end in unpleasantness--a row. He had come to Germanyto learn. It would be defeating this purpose to air what notions hemight have. 

In Villa Elsa itself a good deal of the feasting in April and Maywas carried on in the garden where flowers and dogs completed thepicture, together with much open-air singing accompanied by thepiano up in the salon. Were it not for the musical cult, it wouldhave been difficult, Gard had concluded, to live in this household. As Anderson said, music had in a degree tamed the German "beast" ofthe north and made it possible to get on with him at all. Musicrather than woman, religion, or the ideal of social intercourse, had partly softened him. 

The Bucher sons liked to come to table outdoors with spurs or sidearms, and the Herr's favorite hunting equipment was often inevidence, recalling to him days of valiant sport. With their stiffand long strides they affected to be larger, greater, than othermales. Supermen in the form of Goliaths! The women loved the sightof such warlike paraphernalia. Such things added zest to the joyoustoast--Der Tag! But none of these heroes had yet killed anyone oranything, so far as Kirtley discovered. 

In warm weather Villa Elsa did not relax in the matter of six dailyrepasts. Breakfast at half-past seven. Bread, slices of cold meatand something in addition, at eleven. Luncheon at one, hearty enoughfor a dinner. At half-past four _helles_ beer and tea with_Butterbrods_. Dinner at seven. And on going to bed a fortifyingsupper of pigs' feet, sausage, cheese and other man-like delicacies, flooded with potations. 

Gard had, after the months, adjusted himself somewhat to theseconditions. He had become, he _thought_, more used to the Germanway of living. To get the best out of it, he realized that one mustcoarsen instead of refine the senses and aptitudes. Instincts shouldbe strengthened, roughened, rather than checked or made moreesthetic. The German puts a heavy hand on things. He takes big bitesat existence. Thunderous might envelops and clouds his idea ofperfection. 

CHAPTER XXXI

A CASUAL TRAGEDY

One morning early in June when Kirtley, who had been away theafternoon and evening before, came down to breakfast, he found thehousehold upset. Something bad had happened. Tekla was gone. Rudiwas not to be seen. Frau had prepared a partial meal and Elsa wasmaking ready to sweep and dust and tidy up the rooms. 

The parents were in a rage. They made no bones about it. Fraublurted out with German unreservedness:

"I packed Tekla off--the animal. She had no consideration for me. What do you think, Herr Kirtley? She is going to be a mother. And byRudi. Wouldn't you have thought he would have more sense thanthis--right here at home--break up my service? He let her get himinto the mess. I have no doubt it was her doings--my poor Rudi. Wehave sent him away for a couple of days. I told Tekla to go--be off. And she was out on the street--like _that_--with her bundle ofbelongings under her arm. And here I am with no servant. Ach Gott!they are all cattle, of course. One has to put up with them. "

Herr was in a growling, ferocious state. He blamed Tekla. He blamedhis Frau for not knowing what was going on. It was the woman'sfault. Everything always was. His incomplete breakfast was late. 

"Is there nothing left to eat in the house?" he cried out. He tookon a famished and abused air, although he had had his usual sixmeals the day before. "Give me at least some cheese and bread!"

In this manner Tekla was roundly denounced for interrupting thecourse of family comfort. That she had mortally sinned awakened noattention, aroused no concern. There was no sympathy expressed forher in her condition, no responsibility felt for her in her downfallor anxiety about her future. Whether she would, from this misstep, have to take to the streets for a living occurred to no one butKirtley. 

Germans are little wrought up about such questions. There is noshuddering as from an admitted mortal sin. Natural impulses andfacts are natural impulses and facts. Why should one be squeamishabout them or have soul burnings? In general, carnal desires meetwith no great fastidiousness in the German domestic circle. They arerather regarded as honest and healthy like desires for food anddrink. The Teuton wife is ashamed of barrenness and considers itproper for women to be fully sexed in feeling. Sexuality is notsomething to be shrunk from, discouraged or denied, but is a candid, copious law of Nature to be recognized. 

When Rudi returned shortly from Leipsic, where it had been deemedbest for him to retire for the moment, he appeared as conceited andnoisy as if nothing had happened. He was not cowed or penitent. Hisparents, who had got Villa Elsa in running order and were forgettingthe _contretemps_, almost beamed upon him. He was now a full-fledgedmale. Any lingering uncertainties as to his completed manhood hadbeen effectually removed. His affair was viewed from the standpointof potent strength, not lapse from virtue. Young men had their wildoats to sow. His mistake had been to disturb his own household. Hadit been another household, little heed would have been given. 

In the Bucher minds the satisfying net result seemed to be thatanother _soldier_ (it was to be hoped) was to be born for the army, for the Kaiser. Soldiers had to be. Tekla was to fulfill her highestmission as a German servant girl. She was to become a just andconstituent part of the swelling Empire. 

Frau's ideas and information on the subject provided Gard's journalwith some more condensed material. They were talking out by thegarden table. 

"What becomes of the German servant girl under such conditions?" heinquired. 

"Oh, she can get into another family and go on as before. "

"And the baby? How does she manage with that?"

"She puts it out among poor farm people and pays a little for itskeep. As the mother usually works about in differentlocalities--sometimes being taken far away by her employers--thefarmer often adopts the baby as it grows up. He can always use morehelp. If it's a girl, she is good for the farm as well as thehouse. If it's a boy, he becomes a soldier. A boy of this kind makesthe best soldier because he has no parental and no home attachments. He only knows the barracks and has the officers to obey. He does notlearn who his father is, and the mother becomes practically astranger to him as she moves about in the city or country. He isready to serve in the colonies or go anywhere or do anything, havingno personal ties to hold him. "

"Does not your large army badly demoralize these social conditions?"

"You know, we housewives don't like it much when a new regimentmoves into the vicinity. It makes mothers among our domestics and wehave to change about. Of course, you see, we have more women thanmen in Germany and we must have children growing up for the barracksand the cheap labor market. There seems to be no other way, but itis often a great nuisance for us housekeepers. Yet there is this tosay: The girls rarely have more than one child by the same man. Foranother regiment comes along and there are new relations. The armyis necessarily a floating population and not very responsible forwhat it does among us civilians because it _protects_ us. "

Kirtley concluded that this accounted for the large number ofdetached young men in Germany--in the army and out of it--whoappeared to be so entirely footloose, ready for any mission or taskin any part of the globe. As the two sat there talking about thequestion of lovelessness in these relations, Herr Bucher strolled upfrom his flower beds and joined them in his Tyrolean jacket of thechase and big army boots. Gard said, "We were speaking of affection, Herr Bucher. Why do the Germans havethe ideal of hate when other races are holding up the ideal oflove?"

"Because it is good to hate!" exclaimed the host with ruggedforcefulness as he squatted in a seat. "To hate is strong, manly. Itmakes the blood flow. It makes one alert. It is necessary forkeeping up the fighting instinct. To love is a feebleness. Itenervates. You see all the nations that talk of love as the keynoteof life are weak, degenerate. Germany is the most powerful nation inthe world because she hates. When you hate, you eat well, sleepwell, work well, fight well. It is best for the health. When youlove, it is like a sickness and disorganizes and debilitates. "

"How do you reconcile that with Christ and His mission of love?"pursued Gard. 

"There is nothing to reconcile. We simply do not admit all that. Itis not practical. Christ was not practical. He had no family. Hemade no home. He never even built a house. He did not found a State. He let the Romans run over Him. How can one live in a cold northernclimate without a house, a nation and an army to protect him? No, itis not at all practical. Even Christ could not defend Himself. Hewas crucified without any resistance, any struggle. To hate is tostruggle and that is the mainspring of action. So one must preparehimself to struggle successfully. To hate, to cause to be feared, are the proper motives for life. They _are_ life. Fear is a strongerand far more universal human motive than love. Therefore we Germanswant to be feared rather than to be loved. So we hate because itengenders fear in others. To love is already half a surrender andends logically in death. With Christ the real victory, the realheaven aspired to, was in death, not in life. "

The Herr had faithfully read Rudi's contemporary German militaryphilosophers. 

Truly this was too strange a race, Kirtley felt, to admit of anylevels of genuine, unreserved association and companionship exceptunder a _quasi_ truce or other provisional conditions. To form aperfect union with it, other races had to adopt its attitude. Itcould not and would not adopt theirs until some sort of a Teutonreformation took place. 

In the midst of these repulsing discords Gard was surprised, onreturning to his room a night or two later, to find by his table anew red and gold copy of Heine's verse inclosing a sprig offorget-me-not. On the fly leaf was inscribed in a youthful, copybookhand:

 Immer heller brennt die Licht, Meines schoen' Vergissmeinnicht. 

 Offered to her meadow pupil By his meadow teacher. 

 (Ever brighter burns the light Of my sweet forget-me-not. )

The Germans are not original in love-making. Elsa had read of suchthings being done. But it was an admission or advance from her asunexpected as it was belated. Gard tossed about awhile on his bed, thinking of it. As he had often acknowledged to himself, he had beeninterested in her more than any girl he had yet known. 

In the morning, when things were clearer in his consciousness, heassumed that her enterprising, calculating mother had inspired thegift. For it seemed to be _apropos_ of nothing in particular at thisunpropitious time, although he had made Elsa little presents duringthe fall and early winter. It was evident that the family, after thearrival of the mirific Jim Deming, had grown somewhat accustomed toAmericans and had at length struck a sentimental attitude. 

CHAPTER XXXII

A GERMAN MARRIAGE PROPOSAL

A day or two afterward, another little tragedy visited Villa Elsa, following on the heels of the unfortunate departure of Tekla. Ernstcame home at lunch time with his head swollen in reds and purplesand hardly able to walk. At his morning drill his sergeant hadknocked him down by a blow in the face and then kicked him in theknee. The little philosopher was a good deal of a dreamer and hadfailed in strict and prompt attention. To strike down and boot therank and file are, of course, a normal part of Prussian armydiscipline. 

Kirtley was incensed, horrified. But to his amazement the familysided with the officer. Although Ernst stood in grave danger ofbeing crippled for life, they were ugly in their censures of him. They said it was a good thing to bring him down from the clouds. 

The poor little fellow was a pitiable object for some time. He notonly suffered painfully from his bruises but had to meet the iratelooks and casehardened bearing of his parents. Brutality madesoldiers of visionary and idealistic temperaments. It kept the feeton the earth. 

Gard thought how differently an American father and mother wouldact. Their sons belonged to them and they would resent any outsideinterference that smacked of cruelty. In Germany, the boys, asalready observed, belonged essentially to the Government. Thevicious treatment of German children in the home, at school, in thearmy, accounts for the unique Teuton institution of child-suicide. The number of these boys and girls who, because of their hardships, destroy themselves in despair, is shockingly great. The statisticsin other races offer little in comparison. 

To break down the will by abasing youth before its comrades andelders, to lay its self-respect low, to beat dignified individualityinto callous insensibility, manufactured a docile, automatic unitfor the German mechanism. The peculiar strength of Deutschland layin this early control and training of its young. And as the youngsurrendered their unimportant consciousness as individuals, theygained an important consciousness as factors in the State. For thisreason, as they learned to be almost servile among their own folk, they became domineering among foreigners. 

Villa Elsa now was true to the adage that misfortunes do not come orloom singly. One forenoon, about the middle of June, Kirtley wassitting in his attic, turning over in his mind the fact that hisyear in Germany would soon be up, and endeavoring to explain why hefelt depressed. The recent events, it was true, had created a veryunpleasant condition of mind, but his body itself also seemed toshare in the inharmony. A dullness, a heaviness, had begun to weighupon his physique and yet here were summer, Nature, the green earth, rejoicing all about him. It was odd. What was the full explanation?

As he sat there thinking somewhat dolefully about himself andforgetting his opened books, a loud knock was heard at his door. Itwas Frau Bucher with her knitting. She had never honored him with acall in his room. Something must be the matter. 

At his invitation she came in and sank into a chair. Her face andhair were mussed. She was laboring under a great strain. The sonswith their ill-luck had troubled her. The recent mishaps hadevidently alarmed her, upset her, so that it was now the daughterfilling the mother's anxious hours. 

"Your daughter--Fräulein Elsa!" Gard exclaimed in astonishment. 

"Yes, my poor daughter. Oh, good Herr Kirtley, you have always beenso kind. I have treated you this winter like a son--just like my ownsons. "

"You have been very good to me, Frau Bucher, " interpolated Kirtley, hastening to offer any consolation, although he could not imaginewhat distress had brought her to him. 

"Well, my daughter--you know it has always been the intention thatshe marry Friedrich--ever since they were almost children. But, meinGott, the poor Friedrich does not arrive at anything. We love him. All our friends love him--admire him. But he can get no fixedposition. We wait, he waits, Elsa waits. Always hopes and more hopesand nothing comes. And he is so disappointed. No Kapellmeistership. Only small engagements which do not pay much and soon end. He hasno money and what little we have to give with Elsa will not answeruntil he is permanently established. 

"You see Friedrich is a courageous fellow and he is apt to speak hismind. You remember how he mimicked the military. My husband and Ithink he makes enemies by his impulsive temper. You know whatmusicians are. They talk right out. We think his enemies putdifficulties in his way. And so nothing is settled. We keep waitingand here we are. Elsa wants to marry. She wants children!" explodedthe artless Frau. 

The abruptness of this confession in the matter-of-fact German wayalmost overcame Gard with embarrassment. He recovered himself atlength to ask:

"Does she love him?"

"Ach Himmel! does she love him? Haven't you seen her so dumb attimes? But nothing comes to pass--and when will there be anything?She gets her grumpy spells over these postponements--alwayspostponements. You know young people are impatient. They don'tunderstand such things. She wants to marry. Every young girl wantsto marry and have children. I may die. My husband may die at anytime. And she won't be settled for life. "

The mother went off in a vigorous scene of upheaval. The slender andyouthful Kirtley felt himself unequal to the task of trying tocomfort her bulky person with its commotions. 

"But what do you want me to do? Frau Bucher?"

"We all love America, Herr Kirtley!" she burst out. "Elsa lovesAmerica. Ever since that splendid Herr Deming came, we love America. And we feel we can trust _you_. Young men ought to marry early. Elsawants a decent husband and a decent little home. That is not much toask. Of course we would hate to have her go so far away. But youhave always been so kind to her. You have shown such interest inher. And what a good girl Elsa is! We have brought her up socarefully--and to be a good wife. She can cook and sew and keephouse. She can play and paint, and also sing a little. She isstrong, never sick, and can work--_work_. All you Americans havemoney. We Germans are poor. We can't give her much for a dowry. Excuse me, Herr Kirtley, but you see I came naturally to you. Whoelse is there? We have made a son of you this winter. " Then FrauBucher almost shrieked out:

"And you can stay here _always_, if you prefer that!"

Full of her brave endeavor the mother bolted through the doorwithout any ceremony of leave-taking. 

Gard could not collect his tumultuous thoughts there in the room. Atlast the whole secret was out. Had she not foresightedly kept it solong with some such purpose in view?

Fresh air was the only place for him. He grabbed his hat to escapeother fateful contingencies that morning, and made for the pine parkwhere it was silent and cool. He walked hastily, with his hat off, along the path where Elsa and he used to stroll while conningtogether the passionate lyrics of the passionate Heine. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

A WAITRESS DANCE

He went on and on through the firs and hemlocks, on the right bankof the Elbe, then down toward the city. A multitude of convictions, reflections, impressions, flocked in his brain. After awhile heseemed to send them all scattering by exclaiming, "I'll be damned!"

They turbulently regathered. There was the sensual ape VonTielitz--they would marry her to him. She could love him, pollutedand swinish in the low sinks of womankind. There was the flatulentJim Deming with his money--she could quickly marry him. And at lastthe ideals Gard had nourished about her had finally tumbled to theground that day in her mother's crude offer of bargain and sale. 

These Germans! They were outside the pale. They were the midwaypeople between barbaric Asia and the civilized West. America, millions, pigs, morals, love, brutality, erudition, proficiency, obscenity--the Teuton race mixed them all up hopelessly, withoutrime or reason. 

Gard walked and walked without realizing he was becoming tired. Ashe neared the city he burst out again with, "I'll be damned!" It wasall the résumé he could arrive at. He found himself finally hungryand made his way to Fritzi's little inn. He felt almost beaten out. Was he really well?

The middle of the afternoon had come. There she was fresh, free, like a hardy wild flower. She trotted back and forth, curtseying, chattering, with her merry heels clicking on the tiling. The hotsausages and _Lebkuchen_ and a stein were hastened in, and sheswitched her short skirts down cosily on a bench in front of him toknit and look out after his needs. He had encouraged suchopportunities for the practice of conversation. 

"I've been looking for you to come in, " she lisped. 

"Why?"

"I wanted to ask you to buy a ticket for our Waitress Dance, and Idid not know at all where you lived. " It was a long sentence forher and she giggled. 

"Number 5, Wiesenstrasse, Loschwitz. "

"Gott im Himmel! That's way off. "

"When _is_ your dance?"

"It's to-night. And it's only twelve marks. " She fumbled out aticket from beneath her white apron with a maid's agitation. 

"I'll take it, " said Gard. 

"But you have to promise to go. They want every ticket holder togo. "

"Are you going?"

"Of course I'm going. It's all us waitresses. And it's only once ayear. The waiters have theirs twice a year. "

"And are you going to dance?"

"Of course I'm going to dance. I always dance. " She perked up herhead with her young red mouth open in almost childish puzzlement, asmuch as to say, "Why, what are balls for?"

Gard looked down on his fattening supply of smoking sausages andhoney cakes. A servants' ball might be just the thing to cure hisdisgust with Loschwitz--with himself--with everything. He had heardFriedrich, Messer and Jim Deming exclaim enthusiastically aboutthese popular fêtes. They should not, it appeared, be missed if onewanted to see the real German nature let loose. 

"Well, if you're going to dance, I'll go, " he promised. 

"You bet your life I'm going to dance!" Fritzi cried out in theSaxon dialect's equivalent as she sprang up, and wheeled off to waiton a new visitor. When she had served him she sidled back to Gard'stable with a doubting, half-disappointed air. 

"You're fooling me. " She stuck her tongue out on her upper lip inpeasant bashfulness. 

"No, I'll be there as sure as I'm now paying for the ticket. " Hefilled her fat hand with the coins which it could hardly hold. Shewent away happy. 

The ball did not begin until ten, to give the young ladies time tofinish their dining-room duties and dress. Kirtley went to a caféand watched the billiards until after dark, then slipped out toVilla Elsa, jumped into his evening clothes, and slipped away again. He had seen the royalty dance. Now he would see the common people. This bustling about was cheering. He was glad to go. 

The ball room was big, barn-like, with green branches and cheapflowers strung about. Aprons, napkins, table cloths, bills of fare, and other insignia of the waitress profession filled in the localcolor of the decorations on the walls. There was not one of theeverlasting _Verbotens_ to be seen. Alcoves containing tables andchairs ranged around. 

The entertainment was in full fling when Gard arrived. As the nightwas warm the doors and windows were open wide, and fully as manypeople seemed outside as inside. The throng included a number ofstudents. The dancing was everywhere--on the grass, in the doorways, in the dressing rooms, on the stage by the orchestra. How free andeasy compared with the Court affair!

Kirtley took refuge in an alcove. He fancied he would before longspy Fritzi. She would be the only person he knew. But she discoveredhim first. She tripped up to him with a green cavalier redolent ofsalad oil and beer. She was very proud to be able to claim HerrKirtley for one of her "sales. " Foreigners are always distinguished. The music struck up again and off she was whisked without sayingAufwiedersehen. 

She next came up hanging on to the arms of two dancers. Moreintroductions. All were getting sweaty and thirsty. Gard invitedthem to sit and he provided Schultheiss. 

Fritzi soon settled upon this spot as headquarters, twirling offinto the figures and returning with different companions. Shebrought a girl whom she wanted specially to meet the Herr. The girlsdived into the alcove, then out, back again, and hung aboutflustered, by turns bold or backward. They did not know whether itwas proper to see that he danced. He was, of course, high abovetheir class, but if he didn't wish to dance, why had he come? Fritziwanted to be polite but the situation was above her etiquette. Hehad been so kind as to buy a ticket, and how could he have a goodtime without joining in the festivities? The girls nudged eachother, balked and snickered. 

Gard saw Fritzi's awkward restraint and set her at rest by saying:

"I can't dance the German way. "

"The German way?" she echoed bluntly. "Why, I thought everybody inthe world danced alike. "

"We don't whirl round and round as you do, " Gard explained. 

"Well, I'll swear!" she clucked incredulously, her tongue in hercheek as if saying, "What sort of dancing can that be!"

The dust and streams of perspiration began to affect everyone, butthe music and revolving exertions grew more rapid and vigorous asthe hours advanced. Beetles and bugs sailed through the air alongwith the familiar German odors that greeted Kirtley's nostrils. Everyone became freer. Enjoyment ran higher. Men shed their coatsand women made themselves equally comfortable. It was beer, beer, beer. 

When Fritzi had seen that her Herr was not to take part, she beganto behave toward him with a more bluff unconventionality. She madehim acquainted with all her partners and girl friends. She confidedto him the little jingling trinkets she wore. Her face ablaze, herhair tousled, her feet keeping on the floor with difficulty, shelooked to Gard like a flaming mænad. She had come in cheap satin, and also in silk hose which she particularly doted on. But like allthrifty German maids, after two or three dances she divestedherself of these and put on stouter stuffs which she had broughtalong and which could stand the wear and tear. The possession ofthose finer things had first to be shown to gratify vanity. Thenrecourse was had to a practical basis for physical pleasure. 

Gard mused over the seething picture before him. He knew it had beenpointed out that while the Germans are lewd, they are not dissolute. They do not let their duties suffer. Their ample physiques can standhard strains, and a night of revelry is followed next day by aprompt resumption of tasks. These young folk, tearing about likedisheveled satyrs and nymphs, would be at their jobs in the morning. 

The Teuton does not waste his patrimony in riotous living or lead alawless existence. To this extent the influence of the Government, in its way, was felt. While it recognized that the forceful animalspirits of its people must be indulged to keep them contentedly incontrol, it set its face against waste of time and of belongings inany prolonged habits of dissipation. Thus the strength and materialresources, the plodding industry and economy, of the race wereconserved as well as energized. 

As for the German women, they are not naturally passionate in theordinary emotional and imaginative acceptation of this word. Theirpassions are not extended by any radical complications of romance orideality. In a sense, they keep their heads in any indulgence. 

CHAPTER XXXIV

CHAMPAGNE

At midnight Kirtley saw a remarkable sight. On the stroke of twelve, loud toasts to Der Tag were suddenly lifted high in air as theorchestra broke forth with the Wacht am Rhein. An uproar seized theassembly. "Gott scourge England! Down with France! Deutschland überAlles!" In a twinkling it was a crowd mad for war. Beer mugs weresmashed, various objects of apparel were flung far and wide. Improvised orators--students--mounted tables and began crying forvengeance on the world in speeches which, in the hubbub, did not getmuch beyond preliminary exclamations. 

Hatred of Great Britain stood out above it all. How long must theFatherland be held in check? "Der Kaiser! Hoch der Kaiser!" Thepopular national frenzy had in this spot ripped off any bounds. Burn, sack, violate, kill--Gard heard the intimations--thethreats--of all such frightfulness. In the furor he stood up on histable to get a better view of the extraordinary demonstration. Itsounded fateful, terrible, like descriptions recited of the FrenchRevolution. He was almost awestruck. At its height he fearedpersonal violence for himself. He had sometimes been taken for aBritisher. 

Anderson was right again. The Teutons lusted for war now. What aspectacle! The old, old German hate. This very lowly class ofpeople--waiters and waitresses--had nothing, would be the very firstto face severe hardships, and the men would suffer more than any atthe front. They would all be mainly the ones to go hungry, be cold, be killed. But here appeared the cannon fodder demanding to be shotdown in its craze for Triumphant Germany. It was hoarse for Victoryor Destruction. It was drunk with its physical power. These soldierswere angrily impatient to be let loose like hellhounds, from thesullen fastnesses of mountains and swamps behind the Rhine, upon theChristian populations beyond in the great plains of civilization. 

When the tempest had passed and its activities were dwindling intothe renewed whirlwinds of the dance, Gard resumed his seat, his headbeginning to swim a little. At last his doubting eyes were as ifunsealed. A Vandal tribe, a great and powerful Vandal tribe, stilllived in the world. It was feeding on Conflict--the food of itsancient bellicose gods. 

How was it, indeed, that our trained American observers, men who hadbeen educated in Germany and those who had not, never saw anythingof this danger that was boiling in the breasts of even the humblestclasses of Teutons? Yes, Anderson was correct. The Germans were, after all, frank enough about it. All was spontaneous and bold. Egged on by their military, political, educational, religiousmasters, the populace could easily, at any time, work themselves uplike this into a frantic state about conquest. And yet Americansheard nothing of it. It was as if their channels of information weresubsidized under German authority. 

At one o'clock supper time came and Gard ordered. There were Fritziand another girl and two young men--all very profuse in theirappreciation of his hospitality. The popping of a few bottles ofcheap champagne sounded in his ears. He was in the swing of theexcitement and could not be outdone. His brand was French, of a finequality. It exhilarated his brain far above the plain, distortedcommonplaces of Loschwitz. 

After supper the real frolic set in. The true devotees now aloneremained. They began doing fancy twists, with legs out far and wide. Vests came off, with collars and ties, and feminine charms became asfamiliar as an old story that is read too often to have much meaningfor the senses. To Gard it all now appeared seemly enough, like anopera peasant ballet whose frank rusticities were excused under theinspiration of the music. 

Fritzi's hair floated loosely over her shoulders. It looked to himeven brighter than Elsa's. Her snug, many-colored bodice becamepartly unlaced and she had kicked off her tight slippers underGard's table. In their heated condition many of the other waitresseswere dancing in their unshod feet. He thought it very natural andpleasing when Fritzi rushed up with her heirloom of silk stockingswhich she had removed early in the evening. They had been hergrandmother's who had worn them at some grand baron's wedding longago--the sole tradition and distinction connected with Fritzi'slineage. One of her friends had been robbed in the dressing room andshe was afraid to trust these precious articles there longer. Shemade sure that Gard had tucked them in his pocket for safekeeping. As she hurried to rejoin the circles, he saw that she had wornthrough the bottoms of her dancing hose. 

Whenever that feeling of discomfort, which he had been conscious ofearly that morning, surged for a moment through him, a sip ofchampagne brought quick relief and gilded the scene and his spiritswith its necromancy. He felt dizzy but blissful. He becamedrowsy. .. . He had sunk into a dream, glorious then ugly, foolish buthaunting. 

He dreamed he was an armored knight of the time of Charlemagne. Hewas astride a steed caparisoned for battle, and was riding southwardfrom the Alps in the blazing sunlight, along a white road amid whathe supposed were the gardened plains of Lombardy. By his side, insimilar array, rode a lovely blond princess of the North with awonderful luxuriance of hair--some daughter of the Frankish race offierce and resplendent Brunnhildas or Fredegondas. 

She at last became wearied of her heavy armor, the length of thejourney and the burning sun. He assisted in extricating her from hercoat of mail, and took her over into his arms asleep, letting herarmor ride upright on her charger save for the helmet which hefastened to his pommel. As the horses kept onward he held withdelight her lightsome body, with her miraculous tresses entwininghim as she slumbered. He held her embraced in tenderness, for hadnot she--a princess--trusted him and gone away with him alone?

He had not thus ridden with her far, before his eyes, alert in everydirection for the treacherous enemies of the land, beheld withgaping fright an immense black serpent, brilliant with scalesglistening in the scintillating air, slowly uncoiling out of herheadless panoply that was still riding bolt upright by his side. Heglared down at her in the certainty that she had turned into a twinserpent at his breast. She lay there still in the seductive form ofa woman. But she had turned loathsome to his touch. He hurled her tothe ground and the next moment was flying on foot, afield, inhorror from the spot. 

And he recalled in his dream how woman and the snake have beenallied in legend, religion and history--how they have ever beenidentified in the minds of men. His beautiful queen had been at onewith the serpent in that suit of metal. Or was it only Elsa?--was itonly Fritzi?--with their amber hair?

For what seemed a very long time he was fitfully trying todecide--when he slowly made out that brawny Frau Bucher stood overhim. 

CHAPTER XXXV

RECUPERATION

She was in the act of giving him a potion for a raging fever. Oncehe realized that Herr Bucher sat silently poring over a book by thebed, chucking him back into it when he tossed out. The Bucherchildren occasionally appeared on errands for his comfort. Thefamily nursed him more diligently than if he had been their own. 

Gard came back to his senses rather rapidly. He had found himself inhis room. He was in his own bed--that German bed. Summertide wassteadily flooding in through the grateful leaves of his linden, andbrightening his confining walls. His narrow-gage American digestiveapparatus had, it appeared, finally rebelled over the broad Germanfare. All his eating and drinking during the months had provendisastrous. When he had begun to feel bad that last day, it onlyneeded a little champagne to bring to a head the inevitable revolt. And so, toward the end of his year, he was physically not far fromwhere he had been on coming to Deutschland for the sake of itsinspiring virilities. 

He had plenty of time to wonder how he had got back to Loschwitzfrom the Waitress Dance. He never inquired, never learned. ButFritzi alone knew his address. He had no recollection of anything. He went through his pockets. His valuables were intact. His moneywas all there as nearly as he could figure out, except a reasonableamount evidently used to pay the supper bill and convey him home. Truly those considerate servants had not acted like amateurs. 

He finally remembered about Fritzi's hose. They were gone. At lengthFrau Bucher said she had forgotten to tell him that a pretty youngwoman came to reclaim them. He was ashamed enough. To be carried tohis room in the odor of champagne and with a girl's silk stockingsin his pocket! _He_--Gard Kirtley! Was this the low estate to whichGerman life had brought him?

But he soon observed that the Buchers cared nothing about all this. Young men, as we have seen, were expected to go on larks. No onespoke of the distressing occurrence. There was no disagreeabletestimony that he had made great trouble. No looks of reproachattacked him. His Puritan habits had been, in fact, very curious tothe parents. They felt now that he was a youth whom they couldunderstand. He was true to the proper type. 

It was a relief for him to know that he had not dropped in respectbefore any of the household. He believed he had, on the contrary, grown in their estimation, as had Rudi after his "experience. " Thepoor Herr Kirtley was considered a much abused victim of anunfortunate sickness. Once Frau exclaimed:

"Ach Himmel! our sons have such a hard time of it!"

When he began to eat ravenously after his enforced abstinence, hearty foods and heavy drinks were supplied. It is the Germanfashion at such times to build up the strength quickly with lustymeals. He was started promptly again on the road to gastric ruin. 

Often at night a cold sweat would bead over Gard. What would he doabout Frau Bucher and Elsa? He had been thrown helpless into theirhands. Holy Smoke! Would he become a German in spite of himself? Hesometimes wished the Imperial Secret Service might scare him out ofthe country as had been the case with the lucky Deming. 

The Buchers had likely saved his life. He had been brought by themfaithfully back to health. How was he going to repay? What excusescould he offer when the time came to face Frau's proposal? How couldhe possibly make his escape at all agreeably? Was ever a fellow injust such a pickle?

And here was the ever-capable Elsa dutifully bringing his viands andat times reading to him stories from Hoffmann. She was like a realfairy out of a German story book. The new Heine she had given himlay there, but neither suggested opening it. It was not a thing toget well over. 

To a sick man, his nurse seems heavenly. And Elsa looked trulygolden as she sat there over the Hoffmann, with the sunlightstreaming about her head. In Gard's phantasmagoria at night therehad often been a blond maiden, dancing and lovely--but mingled atlength into some unpleasant circumstance like that connected withthe phantom princess he had ridden with in Italy. 

Ernst, still limping from his beating, came in now and then and readout of a ponderous volume on the Relation of German Music to theReformation. It was full of intricate, plodding, dull detail in theGerman style, which the lad found of interest. But Gard, despitethis kindness, could not make much headway with it. Smoking was, ofcourse, permitted to accompany his man-like return to health, and itwas always a genial hour to have Anderson sitting there in thewreaths of nicotine before the summery window, talking, talking. 

The correspondent came several times, bringing comic papers. Gardpleased him by saying he was veering round to the journalist's wayof thinking on things German. He related the Der Tag incident at theball. The family life of the Teutons, the life of the plainpeople--all were substantiating the essential and alarming truth ofthe old man's beliefs. At last another American in Germany had beenfound who was experiencing an awakening. The result was a mutualappreciation. 

One afternoon they were eating some of the big German cherries, andthe fragrance of Herr Bucher's rose garden below was engaged inbalmy conflict with the odors of cigars. 

"Well, what is the solution about the German people?" Gardpropounded. "What's to be done with them? Here they are, industriousas bees and as fully armed with stings. Will a war cure anything?Even if defeated, won't they be the same people? Won't they presentthe same problem? Won't they present the same menace to what weconsider as the best and most desirable types of civilization?"

Anderson did not interrupt these questions. When they had all comeout, he gravely took another cigar, leisurely lighted it and turnedhis chair to face the linden at the window. He spoke very mildly. 

CHAPTER XXXVI

THE GERMAN PROBLEM. AN ANSWER

"I have given this a great deal of thought. I have read a great dealand I believe I have never known of a writer who furnished what Ishould call an answer. And that is the most important thing--thevital thing. So I have evolved a simple, natural proposal. It is theonly proposal, I think, that will remedy the evil of the Germannation--remedy the ugly situation that hangs over the carelessearth. 

"We know that when young foreigners are educated in considerablepart in a country, they generally become at peace with it. Everything, in fact, draws them to this attitude--for instance, their excusable satisfaction in feeling that their sojourn abroadhas been a success for them instead of a failure. Any foreigninstruction makes the student more of an intelligent, cosmopolitansympathizer. It knits together warm acquaintances abroad. EveryRhodes scholar is an ally of England. He goes forth bearing kindlymessages for her. I have told you how it works with our Americanscoming over here to the German universities. They nearly all becomepro-Germanic. And this is one reason why our compatriots at homehave in general such a downright admiration for what they considerthe super-excellence of the Teutons. 

"But while this providing of the German education for Americans ispulling so strong in favor of Germany, we have nothing similar inAmerica pulling Germany toward us and our ways. Young Germans arenot sent to the United States to study and to lead our lives and toreturn home bearing good-will and good reports. They stay where theyare and become more narrowly, intrinsically Teutons--irreclaimablyTeutons. They are left with the undisputed idea that their system ofinstruction is altogether the best, as proven by the spectacle ofaliens coming here for schooling. Why, then, should German lads andmisses go abroad to learn? And they don't. 

"Now as long as this state of things continues, the German race willremain a tribe in itself, and radically at loggerheads with theworld. It will be hopelessly separated, unreconciled, inimical. Itwill be strange and opposed to everyone else--everything else. Asyou have seen yourself, even the meanings of the most common andessential terms are usually, to the German, the contrary of whatthey are to the rest of mankind. 

"How will there ever be any natural and genuine meeting of theminds, fellowship, community of interests, under present programmes?For centuries civilized countries have been living side by side withthe Teutons, have been pursuing education ever more zealously, andstill the German brain and character stay profoundly different fromthe rest and are not understood. They are so different, in fact, that the forces of war and destruction must be maintained as againstthem and are constant irritants to thought and activity. 

"My plan is this. Young German men and women should be amicablyeducated abroad in very large numbers--the largest well possible. And on a broader basis than the Cecil Rhodes scheme. In our countrythey would become, from youthful association, more or less fond ofour open homes, our sense of democracy, the untrammeledopportunities to go and to do. They would see the advantages ofthese blessings--or at least their human attraction--among boys andgirls. 

"Under my programme these Germans, still adolescent, will returnhome and a little of this foreign education will stick. But theirchildren will do the same. More will stick with them. Then theirchildren, and still more sticking. After fifty or a hundred yearsyou will have a large population in Deutschland thinking and likingand to a great extent living like their Christian and less warlikeneighbors. It will be a tremendous beneficial element introduced forthe first time into Germany. It will slowly and silently, withoutfriction or loss of self-respect, accomplish an internal revolution. 

"Foreign education for Teuton boys and girls! That's the only finalanswer I can find--the only true one. You see, a war will neveraccomplish this, nor tariffs or penalties. Such agencies do notchange human nature or character or modes of existence. Theyantagonize, make stubborn or resentful or malevolent. And, unlikeother races, the Germans would always remain, as they are to-day, UNITED. This is the explanation of their World Power. "

Anderson stopped as if waiting for a comment. 

"It all sounds well and is a beautiful way to do it, but how is itpracticable?" asked Gard, who had listened attentively, impressed. "How are you going to coax the Germans to enter into this? Whatbenefit will they see in it?"

"You are right, " returned Anderson. "That's the difficulty atpresent. It can't be put in operation, as I see it, unless Germanyhappens to be defeated in the coming war. If she is defeated shewill, of course, be humbled and temporarily sick of fighting, andthis proposal could then be readily forced into adoption as one ofthe post-war measures looking to the quickest rehabilitation of thenation. Anything that will put it on its feet again soon will bemost welcome at that time. Meanwhile, the instruments of war, thepower to do damage, must not be left in the German's hands. As longas he has them, he will prepare to destroy. "

"But if Germany is victorious, as you seem to think she will be?"suggested Gard. 

"Oh, then nothing will work. It won't have a chance. What will therebe of all this to contemplate? Germany will be the master and itssemi-paganism will prevail. The modern Teuton tribes will begin tolevel the Christian civilizations to the ground just as the Hunsleveled the Roman civilization. The Hun disposition in the German_must_ be eradicated--_must_ be destroyed. Until this is done theworld will always have these Huns at its gates. ". .. 

 * * * * *

It was now July in the year of everlasting tragedy--1914. Kirtleymust leave for home, as Villa Elsa knew. He talked over his routewith Anderson. His interest in Charlemagne made him wish to see atAix-la-Chapelle the great emperor's tomb, underneath which, according to an old-time legend, the ruler still sits in his whiterobes of state in his marble chair, looking forward to resurrectionto power. So the trip was mapped out through central Germany. 

As the time was at hand for Gard to announce his date of settingoff, his perplexities before Frau and Elsa grew entangled. But, happily, their knot was cut for him. Von Tielitz, who had long beenaway, broke in upon the household one morning with glorious news. Hehad received a commission as bandmaster in the army with fair pay. Most unexpected. A civilian, who could make sport of the military, summoned into the ranks! What could it mean? Something must be inthe wind. 

At all events he had come to arrange to marry Elsa, and convertedthe Villa into a hubbub. He was so beside himself that he appearedready to embrace and marry the first person he met. He was alsoofficious as if conducting a rehearsal. He rushed to Gard's room andoverwhelmed him with the tidings. His eye-glasses kept tumbling off. He was upstairs and down, in the flower garden, out at the teatable, and now and then he rushed to the Pleyel and rent the airwith its exultant chords. 

The family turned the day into celebration. The wine cellar wasopened. The kitchen sent forth its hot and overflowing dishes hourafter hour until well into the evening. The marriageable Jim Demingand Gard Kirtley were to Villa Elsa as if they had never been. Frauproclaimed in husky sounds that she had not felt so young in thirtyyears. Luckily Fräulein Wasserhaus had gone off to Brunswick tovisit a relative soon after Deming's advent, so she was not inWiesenstrasse to encounter this joyous climax and Gard'spreparations for his eventful journey. 

Elsa acted as one overjoyed. It was what she had yearned for andwhat filled the measure of her Teutonic maiden nature. On seeing herhappy like a yellow mermaid on a sunlit, blissful shore, and knowingwhat Friedrich _was_ with all his talent, Gard realized she wasnever for him or he for her. It had been for him a vagary, anirresponsible venture in ethno-psychology, a poorly based confusionof appreciation with a vague notion of duty intermingled withsentiment. 

His illness had cleared his intuitions. The unalluring defects ofthe Teuton systems of love-making overshadowed his own defects as asuitor. Elsa had been as truly foreign to him as the German habitsof eating and drinking. In thinking of her he now knew he had alwaysbeen conscious of her nation. The German woman, as he had alreadylearned, is sunk into her race. It swallows up her individuality. Inmarrying her, one married the whole people--the German State--theKaiser. One became possessed not only of a help-meet but of anaggressive political idea. 

Now that Gard was a friend instead of a lover, how much easier werehis relations with Fräulein! Brooding sensitiveness andresponsibility passed into lightsomeness. The unnatural andcrankling proceeding of his trying to woo a German girl was smoothedaway into a genial indifference. The mental picture of Elsa wouldremain as one that had attracted him on the wall of his Germanmemories. And like the hundred maids that a youth is smitten with, she would gradually blend into the dim gallery of such pleasantvisions of Kirtley's susceptible spring-time--visions which, in allmen, fade sweetly into their manhood. 

In this manner the cloud of Gard's awkward discomfort in speakingout or acting out his answer to Frau's virile project, had meltedaway before these lighted-up faces. He felt as if a fog were liftedoff his consciousness. He was glad to slip out thus easily. In thelively jumble of robust, rejoicing realities about him, he seemed tohave emerged from the fringy edges of a daze. 

CHAPTER XXXVII

A GERMAN "GOTT BE WITH YE"

A dash of adventure was to crown Gard Kirtley's farewell to Germanyas it had crowned Jim Deming's, but with an ominous wreath of thetragic instead of garlands of the comic. War was at hand, yet evenAnderson did not see it plainly enough to report it. War was oftenin the sky in Germany and often had he been fooled. The Teutons mustbe sure of victory and, he was positive, would avail themselves of along summer for their campaign. 

In those days of July something peculiar and tense hung over theland, but its sources were untraceable, its form, abstract. Theunadvised, ordinary people wiped the sweat from their foreheads andsaid it must be the heat. Kirtley would not have been expected tointerpret Friedrich's surprising engagement in the music ranks ofthe _Landwehr_ as a sign that widespread preparations were beingmade for the fullest onslaught of which the nation could be capable. The Government was, nevertheless, quietly laying its hands on allits young men--even musicians who were blind in one eye and couldnot see out of it. 

Gard was glad to go home through the heart of Germany. Jena, Weimar, Erfurt, Eisenach!--the land of Goethe, Schiller, Luther. While thesefigures were discarded from the blatant pageantry of the armedEmpire, the landmarks associated with them remained to satisfy thevision, and he could tell of them to dear old ignorant Rebner whowould be waiting to hear of his beloved Deutschland which existed nomore. Afterward, Heidelberg; the trip down the Rhine to the spiresof Cologne; and then Aix at the western border, where that augustsovereign slept in a haunting majesty, wrapped in the mysticgrandeur of the Dark Ages. It was the most fitting and impressiveplace on the frontier from which to bid adieu to Germania. 

In gratitude for his recovery Gard made handsome presents toeveryone at Loschwitz, accompanied by the conventional _Edelweiss_. Villa Elsa, in turn, was profuse in its expressions and little actsof good will. Herr Bucher gave him a queer pipe, and the boysfurnished the smoking tobacco. These gifts were to while away thelost hours on the tour. From Frau came a flask of cognac for use incase he were dizzy on the trains. Fräulein bestowed on him one ofher tiny etchings showing the Elbe with the Schiller Garden whereall had spent so many evenings. 

Gard's route, his through ticket to the sea, his traveling clothing, were subjects of daily conversation at the table. Although thefamily were entirely obliging, Rudi, odd to say, occupied himselfthe most about the trip. He seemed wonderfully keyed up and morefull of military talk even than usual. He insisted on seeing abouttime-tables, hotels to be recommended, the favorite dishes and brewsto be called for at each stopping place for local tone. 

Kirtley was pleased over his friendly attentions. He wished to leavewith good feelings all around. 

When Rudi helped him get his trunk from the store room, Gard'sforgotten passport fell out and excited the other's curiosity. 

"I've never seen an American state paper before, " he remarked, puffing a cigarette. "What a droll looking affair! So different fromours. Would you mind if I just glanced at it?"

"Certainly not. " Anderson's suspicions of the young German glancedthrough Kirtley's mind. But Rudi was a thick-headed boy, and whatcould he or anyone accomplish with a passport? Gard had scarcelybeen called upon to use it. It had been treated almost as a blankformality, an empty courtesy. 

"You don't have to show it in German towns--only at the frontier? AmI right?" inquired Rudi after he had minutely read it through as ifhe had been an official. 

"Only at the frontier. " Gard grew wary. This knowing and recentfamiliarity was not becoming entirely agreeable. It would be prudentto mystify the son. 

"But of course something _might_ happen in a German town and I mightneed it. So it's always convenient to have about. "

"Where are you going to carry it, then?" pursued the other, handingback the ribboned paper. 

"Would you think my grip would be the place?"

"Your grip? Yes, that's just like me. I always shove everything intomy grip at last. See here, now. I have none of my papers about me. All in my grip--even in the house. " Rudi opened to view his insidecoat pocket in testimony, as if he were an important individual. Gard shifted ground again. 

"I don't know. I may carry it in my pocket--with my ticket. What ifI leave it in my trunk after all? I shall have to open up at theborder anyhow. "

The subject of the passport kept in Rudi's mind. Three days later hecalled out to Gard:

"I have been thinking it over and I believe you should carry yourpassport in your grip. It may slip out of your pocket while you aredozing in the train. "

"Danke schoen!" said Gard. 

The parents also took great interest in the matter. The paper oughtto be examined by the German authorities. Was it not Herr Kirtley'scredentials to the German nation? Nothing would answer but that HerrBucher and Rudolph should take it in town and see that the properofficials were duly cognizant. It was another evidence to Gard thata Teuton is not content until his Government is given anopportunity to approve. The document seemed so vital to Villa Elsathat Gard mentioned it to Anderson in the way of gossip. 

"Don't leave it in your trunk or grip, " cautioned the elder. "Keepit on your person. Sew it on your shirt, by golly. One never needs apassport, you know, and then you need it like the devil. I've heardof two or three persons this month who got separated from theirpassports and were in trouble. Something seems to be really going onunder the surface. But spring is the classic time for war as well aslove to break out. "

Gard decided to follow Anderson's advice and keep the parchment inhis innermost pocket. He also checked his trunk through to thefrontier, contrary to Rudi's suggestion. He said nothing of thesechanges, yet he was far from thinking that the hand of the Gothwould dare to reach out after him--a friendly foreigner and guestleaving this peaceful hearthstone, so effusive in its amicableleave-takings. 

Just before his departure he felt something of a restraint in thehousehold. He attributed it to the social stiffness of the German. This increases when intercourse comes to a point. Affecting momentsjolt hard in him--moments when embarrassment is natural to allhumans. 

At the gate, for the last time, the Herr was energetically smokinghis long pipe. The Frau frequently wiped her sweating face with ahandkerchief. The boys kept kicking away the dogs whose barking halfdrowned the parting words. Gard said good-by, too, to the old lindenby his window. How one can miss a tree!

And Elsa! He flattered himself she looked a mite regretful that hewas going. She was starting for her class when she joined thetopsy-turvy group by the gate and waved her creamy hand. Her smallstraw hat, wreathed fatiguingly in roses, clung desperately to herhead in the awkward way German women have of wearing headgear, andmade her, despite her blossom-like attractiveness, seem quaint andso truly German like the rest. She looked to Gard as pink and blondeas the year before when he had first been dazzled by her glisteninghair. 

On crossing the river he could see her moving down their meadow pathwhere Heine had sung to him, her etching materials under her arm. One last look at the row of knightly castles rimming the heightsabove her and at the storied Elbe at her feet as she hurried along!He gulped down a small something in his throat, and turned his facetoward the station. 

After all, Dresden had been a year of his life. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII

A JOURNEY

At Eisenach, bound for Frankfort, the train guard punched Kirtley'sticket and showed him into a compartment that was empty save for amilitary figure engaged in reading a large newspaper, holding itfirmly with gloved hands before his face. Although the day was warm, an army cap was clapped down low on the head. 

Gard sank back on the cushions and closed his eyes. He was somewhatfatigued from having climbed the Wartburg whose castle, famed in thehistory of Luther, lay asleep there like a long and oddly shapedbeetle. He soon fell into a doze. When he became conscious again, his companion's countenance was buried as before in the paper. Underneath it, gray trousers and large boots protruded in Kirtley'sdirection as if to ward off any familiar approach. 

That editorial page must be extensive and absorbing, Kirtleycommented to himself as he whiffed the refreshing breeze that camein his window from Hesse close by on the west. In a delicioushalf-dreaminess he thought the stranger turned the journal and thata reddish, be-whiskered visage, with a flat, wide-lobed nose, poppedinto view for a second. 

The motionless reading, nevertheless, continued for the remainder ofthe trip. To the sweet July zephyr and the snug landscapes flittingby, the soldier paid no heed. How German this was!--Kirtley mused. The Teutons are a wintry race and often take their summer joys in ahard, hyperborean fashion. He could not but admire this example ofphysical constraint. The iron rigors of Prussian drill had made thebest army in the world. 

Or perhaps this was some queer, abnormal chap. Gard rememberedfragments of stories he had heard of comic or tragic happenings inthe separated, locked compartments of continental trains. But thetales were too vague in his mind to pique any anxiety. He rousedhimself and took up his German newspaper. Muffled war scares. Alwayswar scares more or less in evidence. How dull the Teuton journalswould be without them! Dog days were coming and brains were no doubteffervescing. 

The forty-eight hours in the rich old capital on the Main were fulland Kirtley had almost forgotten his peculiar fellow traveler fromEisenach. What was his amazement, after his guard had punched histransportation and closed him into his compartment in the train forHeidelberg, to find the same individual seated alone again in thecorner, engrossed in his voluminous and stationary paper!

This began to be disturbing. Gard was not more brave than theaverage mortal, but fear had not really been born into his bones. Was this some weird affair? Was it a spy at work, combining Germanearnestness with German farcicalness? The ludicrous extremes of JimDeming's experience flashed over Kirtley's mind. But he felt as fullconfidence in his innocence as had Jim, and he had not given aCinderella party. 

It was a short run to the celebrated university town on the Neckarthrough ancient Hesse. What would Gard do? This was a nonsensicalsituation. He decided to crack it open, find out what it was allabout. He summoned his best German and formally addressed a casualremark to the stranger. No answer. He did not hear. 

"Oh, deaf! Probably dumb too!" Gard exclaimed to himself. His nextmove was to step across to the other window for the evident purposeof throwing out something. A lurch of the train caused him tostumble against the high boots. They remained motionless. Hediscovered that the eyes behind the paper were fixed in a stare. 

_It was a stuffed figure!_

A mere puppet. And yet a thrill of alarm, for the first time, shotthrough Gard. It was not reassuring. He thought of Rudi. Was thissome official prank young Bucher had set going? It would be likehim. He must be a spy, as Anderson had insisted. Was the son tryingto act with confederates far away over here near the Rhine?

The passport! Rudi and the family knew all about it. Kirtley felt inhis inside shirt pocket. He was relieved to find the parchment stillthere. How foolish he would have been to leave it in his grip, asRudi had urged! A traveler couldn't be with his grip every moment. But why was such a paper considered valuable by the Secret Service?

As he returned to his seat, Kirtley gave the legs a kick "just forluck. " He could not help laughing. The burlesque! The Germans werecertainly a curious people. This was like some fantastic tale ofHoffmann with its marionettes and other childish stuff so dear tothe race. 

It came over him that this image was thus being convenientlytransported from one town to another for some show--some Jarleywaxworks. But how, then, about that other form in the train fromEisenach? It had certainly been alive. Had he not seen it turn itspaper? Yet, was he sure? He had been half asleep and might haveimagined it. 

As he revolved the matter in his mind, he was less and lesspositive. At any rate, how explain the fact that this exact figurehad been on the two trains and that each time he had been with italone? How was it known here what trains he would take? Only theBuchers were advised. 

Whether a silly hoax or a performance of the tremendous sleuthsystem of Germany, Gard was too unsettled to enjoy fully his briefsojourn at Heidelberg. He decided to trip up any pursuers. Insteadof resuming by rail his journey to Mannheim, according to thatsection of his ticket, he took an auto. For every reason that wouldbe pleasanter. He could see to better advantage the far-famed, vine-clad valley of the Neckar where it merges into the wide andnoble plains of the Rhine. 

From Mannheim he went by boat as proposed. His be-whiskered frienddid not put in an appearance and Kirtley congratulated himself onthe riddance. The more he reflected, the less he made any sense outof it. Coincidence, practical joke, spy system at white heat, hallucination--all suggestions seemed equally untenable. 

At Cologne he found the newspapers full of discussions about war. Onthe trip he had not read much. He was either sight-seeing, traveling, weary or sleepy. For that matter, the public generallywas not aware that fearful hostilities were imminent, and he gavethe subject no keen notice. 

There is not much to view in the city of odors--Coleridge's city of"two and seventy" smells. Only the cathedral. Although the museumis mediocre Gard dropped in there at noon to fill in his time. Afterwandering about he became aware that there was, in the distance, another visitor whose occasional shuffling footsteps first attractedhis attention among the eye-obstructing objects. Then he saw, attimes, a bulky form bending over some curiosity and contemplatingit. 

As Kirtley had no companion on his journey, except the militaryscarecrow, he felt a touch of lonesomeness and was glad when hegradually approached near enough to see that this person was akindly looking German who had the wondering air of a sight-seer. Intheir leisurely itineraries they at last met in front of a smallbronze copy of a Roman horse marked with italics in Gard's guidebook. 

The other looked, too, as if he wanted to speak, and his cheerfulcountenance invited Kirtley's readiness to visit with someone. Thestranger was in appearance a prosperous man of about thirty-five, blond, with a very small curling mustache under a small nose. Thoughhe kept smiling he still said nothing, as if doubtful of a firstadvance. 

Gard hesitated, then broke the ice. 

"I don't know anything about Roman horses, " he essayed. "I can'ttell whether this is a good thing or not. " The other was affablyrelieved and was soon pouring out information about the animal. 

"Excuse me, " he ventured, "but I raise horses on my estate and Iknow a little about them. The Roman horse was, of course, smaller, shorter, stockier, than our modern type. Small heads, short necks, built closer to the ground. Just like the Roman himself. This is asplendid example. "

Seeing that Gard followed him he began again with:

"Excuse me. " And he plunged into a minute, quite exhaustive, discussion of the Latin specimen before them, as they walked roundand round to view it from all angles. Kirtley had never beforerealized there were so many points--fine points--about this familiarquadruped. The German showed why this animal could not speed, couldnot make nearly as many miles a day as his present successor. But, like the Roman, he had endurance and he was undoubtedly easier tohandle. There were the withers, the haunch, the hock, and a score ofother features upon which Gard's new acquaintance held forth, introducing almost every remark with his rather embarrassed "excuseme. "

The astonishing Teuton erudition again! Gard had to marvel at itonce more. This German was, by rare exception, ingratiating. Theyfinally introduced themselves. Herr Furstenheimer of Wuerttemberg--afarmer. Gard concluded he did not dislike Germans of the south. Their temperaments, voices, manners, are somewhat softer than thoseof the north. 

"I haven't been in Cologne in twenty years, " Furstenheimerexplained. "Just stopped off. I wonder if you--I see you too are atourist--happen to be going my way. Excuse me, but that would beodd, wouldn't it?"

"Yes--I'm bound for Rotterdam. "

"Rotterdam--- why so am I!" ejaculated the German in a happy moment. "I'm on my way to visit my sister there. I haven't seen her foryears. It's really shameful. What train do you take?"

"The two o'clock. I wish you might be going along. One gets somewhatbored traveling alone. "

"I'm the same way. I like company. I had intended going onto-night, but this Cologne one hears so much about isdisappointingly dull, isn't it? Nothing to see. " They conversed inGerman to Kirtley's linguistic satisfaction. 

"But I'm stopping off at Aix-la-Chapelle, " he had to say. "That's atfour. Then I'm taking the late train. "

"What is there at Aix? I don't remember. "

"I want to see Charlemagne's tomb. "

"Oh, _so_? That can't be duller than Cologne, can it? I don't seethat I would be losing any time by it either. I'll tell you whatI'll do. If I decide to join you--and I hope I shall--you'll see meat the two o'clock. But if I don't--well, Aufwiedersehen!--let ushope--and I am delighted to have met you. "

Gard was gratified when the sociable Wuerttemberger arrived at thestation. They went on to Aix in a compartment full of _militaires_. The countryside, swimming in the sunlight, lay tidy and dimpling inthe gentle arms of a peace and prosperity that made the newspapertalk of a campaign seem unreal and preposterous. 

Furstenheimer appeared to have only the interests of a smallland-holder, and gossiped about his farm, his horses and prices. Hewas not apparently concerned about the war excitement. Agriculturein Wuerttemberg was more important. Like most Germans, whether therewas war or no war, seemed much the same thing with him. Either mustbe taken naturally and philosophically like a state of Nature. Furstenheimer was not fond of being away from home. To be frank, hisbrother-in-law in Rotterdam had got into financial straits and hisown sister was ill. They had become almost strangers in the longseparation. And that was not right, _was_ it? He really had had togo. 

When they arrived at Aix--the German Aachen--they decided to leavetheir grips in an inn, across the station Platz, so that they couldconveniently dine there and be near at hand for the express. Thenthey started for the cathedral which, with its eleven centuries, loomed under a lofty octagon from a low hill. 

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE TOMB OF CHARLEMAGNE

In a few minutes the two travelers reached the side portal of thehoary temple. It represented the seat of Charlemagne's political andecclesiastical power--the capitol of the ancient Franks. The doorwas closed. A service was being held. It would be out at fiveo'clock. 

To occupy the interim Gard and his new friend went over to theneighboring town hall, located on the site of the emperor's palace. They found it a gay Gothic edifice, the roof flanked by two perttowers. Inside they tiptoed about with silent respect in the immensecoronation gallery--one of the largest rooms in the world. Here themedieval German emperors were crowned and imperial diets held. 

When the tourists returned to the cathedral they met two young, clean-shaven Germans, obviously travelers like themselves, alsowishing to enter. One was tall, the other short. While waiting forthe audience to file out, the four struck up a casual conversationabout the edifice. Gard, full of his guide book, was pleased toinform them on a subject of which they pleaded ignorance. 

They sauntered into the somber, august interior. Above were theimpressive stained glass windows, high-flung in the octagon. Kirtley's binocular, strung over his shoulders, came in handy to theothers. The Germans seemed somewhat posted on stained glass (Teutonerudition!) and with Gard's binocular they went off for aninspection from the exterior. 

He preferred to remain and contemplate alone the solemn scene abouthim. It was an hour he had looked forward to. He wanted to recallwhat he had read of this historic spot and the epic and romanticassociations here of the most celebrated of Carolingians. 

In the mosaic flooring at his feet, as he sat down, was thetombstone which (in the tradition) lies above the imperial victorwho sits below waiting with his scepter in his hand and his whitebeard ever growing--the king of the Middle Ages. How many, manypotentates, great and small, during all the intervening centuries, had bowed their heads and spoken words of reverence in the presenceof the only sepulchre remaining _in situ_ and intact of theworld-conquerors of antiquity! Of all these reputed soliloquies, that of Don Carlos, in the spacious Alexandrines of Victor Hugo in"Hernani, " Gard remembered as being the most famous. He had heardwhat a long and impressive recital it always is as one of the testsof the dramatic actor at the Théâtre Français. 

His thoughts ran on. Without Charlemagne's military successes, hiswidespread reorganizations, the political and civil grandeur of hisacts, his picturesque journeys, his union of church and state, whatwould the Dark Ages have been? In its mountains of fact and luringmists of fable he had stood mighty and solitary, inspiring itsimagination, its legends, its superstitions, its songs. He was itscompelling figure. He it was who unified medievaldom and laid thebases of what had since governed in western Europe and prevented itfrom remaining a vast region of large and small tribes fightingamong themselves. And he alone, among the powerful militarychieftains of the old, old past, had died both peacefully andundefeated. 

Why, then, has he faded from view? This was an interesting questionto Kirtley. Why has Cæsar so outshone Charlemagne? Why are Homer andVergil, in comparison, coming ever more to the fore? Why has Dantebecome the masterly profile of medievalism?

A significant answer had before occurred to Gard. These fourpersonages could _write_ marvelously well while Charlemagne couldscarcely even write his name. Had he been a great author, why wouldnot his fame be burning brightly like theirs? In every institutionof education their classic language is kept before both youth andprofessor. Their cults accordingly grow. While the Frank so largelyshaped the Middle Ages and furnished leading motives for itsbackground, the Italian merely pictured it. 

And yet the latter has become its most distinct luminary. His arthas surpassed in renown the medieval sword and crown. His pen is aconstant self-advertiser while those emblems of state fall to theground. Though every spot associated with the lives of Cæsar, ofVergil, of Dante, is sought by student and sage, the tomb ofCharlemagne is being forgotten. Who knows that it exists or cares?And is it all because he had no literary skill? A gigantesquecharacter, surrounded by his romantic paladins--Roland, Oliver, Ganelon and the rest--his face turned alike toward west, east andsouth--to France and Germany and Italy--he nevertheless has longbeen sinking into the ever-darker shadows of a dulled obscurity. .. . 

Gard's friend and the other two Germans presently returned andinterrupted his ruminations. They had seen their fill and wereanxious to escape from this gray cavern of a dim oblivion. Outdoorsthe party of four found the sun shining, but rain clouds werehovering in the east. The strangers had plenty of time as they werewithout a fixed itinerary. They were very agreeable and it wassuggested that all dine together. Would not a stroll in the environsbe meanwhile a suitable diversion?--out toward the attractiveLousberg and its belvedere?

Herr Furstenheimer had indicated an inquiry to Kirtley as to whetherhe would like to join the other two. Upon his signifyingaffirmatively, the four walked northward. The flat face of one ofthe young men Gard fancied he had seen before. It was, however, of asomewhat familiar Teuton variety and lost in the maze of all theGerman visages he had seen. 

They idled along, recounting their exciting experiences intraveling. Gard told of the wax image in the train as the singularincident he had to offer. As it did not appear to appeal to thecuriosity of his companions, he dropped the subject. The Germans areused to the grotesque and egregious. 

At intervals the company changed about by twos, their hats comingoff frequently in the warmth of the evening. On reaching the top ofa small ascent, a summer inn there invited to cooling drinks. It wasa low-storied, straggling construction, with a large green yard andtrees. There were no guests as yet for the approaching meal time. 

The cathedral acquaintances took one side of a table under thebranches, and the companionable Furstenheimer with Gard faced them. With the beer they began comparing the parts of the world theyhailed from. Kirtley belonged to that distant land--America!Incredible! He had traveled so far. It was a country the twonewcomers wished to visit. They could not credit the surprisingthings they had heard concerning the United States. All was so oddthere. 

The smaller German, with the broad face, having lost no time inbeing full of compliments about Kirtley's accent, went on:

"You Americans learn our language better than we do yours. I couldnever get the th in my school. You seem to _do_ everything sodifferently in America, too. Now, there's your great game of cards, for instance. I was on a boat once going down the Danube and some ofyour compatriots were playing it. They called it--ach Gott!--whatdid they call it? _You_ know. "

"Poker, " said Gard, amused. 

"No, that isn't it. "

"Bridge. "

"No, the devil, why can't I think of it? They played it--if I had apack of cards I would show you what I mean. You could name it then. "

The German called the attendant. The latter did not come. The otherhurried into the restaurant and came back waving a deck. 

"Now I will try to show you. I can't do it well. I have never seenit but once. "

"Monte, " said Gard. It was not the name the German recognized. Kirtley laughed over this old county fair acquaintance. Three cardmonte under the walls of Charlemagne's church! This was bringing theancient and the modern together with a vengeance. Furstenheimerthought the game was droll. He had never seen any played like that. 

"How can that be a game!" he exclaimed--"only three cards! You musthave left out something. It looks ridiculous. What's the point?"

"Why, you _bet_!" cried the dealer who was awkwardly manipulatingthe cards. The two strangers wagered with each other, and theWuerttemberger at last got interested and bet first against one, then the other. In a few minutes he had lost two hundred marks tothe dealer, and acted as if worried. The dealer won also from hisassociate, but not so readily. 

"A gambler, and playing clumsily to fool me, " Gard had promptly saidto himself. He endeavored to save his friend from falling deeperinto the toils. He nudged him under the table, but the Teutonstupidly understood nothing. He kept on, more and more distraught, losing money, then groaning about it and wiping his trickling anddistressed countenance. 

When the dealer finally saw that Kirtley would not wager, he grewnoisy. 

"Not to play your own national game--is it polite, I say?" Heflaunted the cards before Gard. 

"I do not bet, " Kirtley repeated as pleasantly as he could, and thetall German tried to quiet his mate. 

The rain, which had been brewing, presently began to come down andwas breaking up the sport. They agreed to dine in the inn and goback to town when the downpour was over. Gard's friend squaredaccounts--four hundred and eighty marks passed across. He lookedunhappy enough. But the dealer was still far from satisfied becausethe American had not played. The German had won from the other two. Could he not win from an American in an American game? He had beeneager to wager at one turn all the money he had gained. 

"A pair of cheap gamblers, " Gard repeated to himself. He wished hisfoolish friend from Wuerttemberg had kept out of it. They were hereon the edge of a strange city, in an unknown inn, at nightfall. Itshowed that Furstenheimer was a green country man who, as headmitted, had seldom been away from home. He had not even seen hisneighboring Rhine in years. 

The rain was now pelting them and they scurried indoors. 

CHAPTER XL

THE END OF A LITTLE GAME

The short German had worked himself up into an irritable state. Heled the way about the arrangements for dining, his tall friend allthe while mildly attempting to soothe his ruffled feelings. Furstenheimer, appearing much crest-fallen, meekly followed theirwishes. 

A private room must be had, the dealer announced. They took adetached one with the door opening out toward the highway. Each oneof the three proposed to have a favorite dish from his province. 

The little German grew more fussy. He condemned the restaurantmanager and got at loggerheads with the waiter. He must at leasthave a Mecklenburg salad as he came from Mecklenburg-Schwerin. Thewaiter did not know what it was and the irascible Teuton informedhim bluntly that he was a _Dummkopf_. The card player would make ithimself and all must do him the honor of eating it. He proclaimed ina loud voice that it was the superior of all salads. He had won atcards, the money stuck out of his pockets. He was triumphant andbecoming insolent. 

Kirtley wished he were out of this company. He opened the outsidedoor a moment for fresh air. He noticed that the door had a springlock. The rain was coming down in torrents. And he ought not toabandon his naïve friend. 

The repast was begun by drinking the prevailing toast to Der Tag!His companions now talked openly about the threatening war, andGard, who had not seen a paper since morning, did not know thathostilities were at last in the way of breaking out. From theconversation he could but judge that all Belgium and northern Francewere to be made German. This seemed simple and inevitable throughall the blustering and bragging. England--America--did not appear tocut any figure. They had no armies, hence they were negligible. 

When the company got down to the Mecklenburg salad, the clamorousGerman expatiated about it at length as he began his bustlingpreparations for its manufacture. 

"One of the great points of my salad is plenty of pepper. " With aflourish he grabbed the little pepper box to suit the action to thewords, and nothing came out. It was empty. 

"Waiter, waiter, bring some pepper, you stupid _Kerl_. Don't youknow enough to set the table properly?"

Another pepper receptacle was brought, but it would not work. It wasstopped up. 

"Gott im Himmel! waiter, you idiot, bring some _pepper_ and be quickabout it. " And the swaggerer began abusing him, the inn andinferentially men who would not wager in a social little card game. The servitor raced in, mad and muttering, and banged down a big canof the much desired condiment. At last, Gott sei Dank! there waspepper by the wholesale. The salad proceeded on its troubled course. 

"You like our Germany--yes?" was inserted. Kirtley assured the threethat he had had a pleasant year. 

"Our Germany is a great country, " explained the tall Teuton in ahigh, cracked voice. "And after the war it will be a much greatercountry. " He was flushed with drink like the other two. The Germanslifted their glasses again to Der Tag, and Gard, their guest, joinedin half-heartedly. There was this time an ugly firmness showing inthe demonstration that he did not fancy. He was franklyuncomfortable. His companions did not like it because he dranksparingly in spite of all the vehement urging. 

The salad proved to be a wonderful dish, hot and strong, fit for theiron stomach of a "blond beast. " It not only bit but wasprovocative. In the growing conviviality the subject leaped fromsalad to cards. The winner took out his money. He began shaking itin Gard's eyes, insisting once more on wagering it that his Americanfriend could not pick the card. With the _demi-tasses_ and cigars heordered the deck and table. He started the game, having locked outthe blockhead of a waiter and dropped the key into his own pocket. 

Gard would not play. His ire was rising. The small German declaredhimself mistreated. He jumped up from the table and burst out in atirade against shoddy Americans. This brought each man to his feet. The dealer, violent and familiar, put his hands on Gard. 

"You are a dollar American and dare not bet. "

"Please keep your hands off me, " cried Kirtley and drew back, shaking with the affront. The German persisted and Gard's footballdays stood him in good stead. He knocked him down. At this the maskwas thrown off. 

"Get his passport!" yelled the dealer on the floor. The other twobegan to draw weapons and started toward Kirtley. He was almostunnerved. His genial Wuerttemberg friend a spy! It was the _SecretService_. 

As he stepped back, thunderstruck, his hand grazed the big peppercan which had been left on the side table. It sent an inspirationwhizzing through his brain. He whisked off its unfastened top, grabbed a handful of pepper, and with a swing of the kind he used touse in his throws from left field to home plate--let go with all hisforce. 

The aim was true. The pepper swept into the eyes and mouths of thetwo men. The other was half lying on the floor near their feet andhe also received a dose. Pepper filled their side of the room andblinded them as they sneezed and groped about in pain. Gard boltedfor the outer, self-locking door and, almost before he realized it, was out in the highway in the rain, heading away from the city andin the direction of the Dutch border which, he knew, lay not faraway. 

CHAPTER XLI

ARE THEY HUNS?

It was an instinctive move to get out of Deutschland--raucous, hostile Deutschland, lying athwart his soul. But his grip? hisovercoat? his umbrella? He faced back toward the town. His mind wasin a tumult. No, he must make for the frontier at all hazards. TheGermans, whenever they recovered, would naturally expect him toreturn for his articles and would watch them or have them watched. He felt for his passport, money, trunk check. They were safe. He wassure his trunk would be at the border for him. He turned about andbegan running. The bellowing condition of the agonized sleuths andthe locked door would enable him to get a good start under the coverof the darkness and storm. 

When almost breathless he stopped running and walked forwardrapidly. There was no travel in his direction. But he had to dodgefrequent oncoming vehicles with men and materials of some kind. Theywere being concentrated at Aix--a main distributing point for theinvasion of Belgium. 

He was wet through, yet hot as a furnace. The cooling rain wasgrateful. The loss of his grip and things would be inconvenient, notserious. He began running again. Then he walked as fast as he could. He was more and more convinced that those Germans would count on hisgoing back for his belongings. They would not imagine that a dollarAmerican would leave his possessions and hoof it to the DutchLimberg on a night like this. 

His brain was on fire. He thought of everything. Furstenheimer hadbeen a trailing sleuth. He had fooled Kirtley completely. It was amasterly piece of work. Gard metaphorically took off his hat to theGerman Secret Service. Notwithstanding the Jim Deming episode andAnderson's animadversions, this had been a highly expertdemonstration of the art. 

Gard's mind went over his whole trip from Eisenach, trying to findwhere his suspicions should have been more aroused. He coulddiscover no loophole where any unflattering dullness on his part wasparticularly at fault. He had made rather the most advances atCologne to the self-styled Furstenheimer with his Roman horse. 

How casually, too, the two confederates had been picked up at thecathedral! Their intelligent interest in stained glass! Very clever. All had been wonderfully clever. He now saw that when Furstenheimerleft him at Cologne to decide about joining him, and also when thethree had gone off to inspect the windows, there had been ample timeto perfect their scheme. 

His passport! What on earth could they want of that! In the Germanway they had used a steam hammer to crack a hickory nut. No one in1914 had an inkling of what service American passports were to be tothe Kaiser's Government. The world was soon to rub its eyes overGermany's treacherous, fiendish, employment of chemicals both ondocuments and on humans. Lackadaisical mankind did not then dream ofthe thoroughness and elaboration with which Deutschland waspreparing her many deep and diabolical designs. 

Toward dawn Gard, pretty well winded and in a bath of perspiration, trudged along more slowly while his thoughts streamed precipitatelyahead under the pressure of the stupefying developments. He now knewwho the little German was. He was that rigid, whiskered, militaryperson in the train from Eisenach! The same flat, wide-lobed nose. He had not guessed it before because the face, clear of a beard, hadreally suggested in Aix (he now realized) that of the typical shavenTeuton waiter. But why had the spy traveled in such a stiff andmysterious fashion? Likely to locate the passport--find out whetherit was then being carried in the grip or on Kirtley's person. Insome way--probably from the manner in which the grip had beenhandled--the sleuth had convinced himself it was kept in a pocket. 

Although Gard could not clearly make it out, the puppet must havebeen an ingenious device to mislead. The ridiculous card dealer, going through all his mock part with such desperate earnestness, could very well have conceived this eccentric project. Would anyoneoutside Germany have believed in such use of a stuffed figure? Themaneuver succeeded in a fashion, for Gard had not been as shrewd ashe imagined in taking the auto from Heidelberg. He may have caused achange in tactics, but he had simply fallen into the hands ofFurstenheimer in the museum. The leisurely stroll, the game ofcards, the badgering over the betting, everything, had been fullyworked out. Somehow, through it all, they were to deprive him of hisstate paper--likely when he had become intoxicated, as was evidentlyplanned. 

But the revelation about the Buchers! That was the finishing blow. "Dastards!" Gard hurled out the word. It was not only Rudi but hisparents who had followed his leadership. The son's surprisingconcern over the passport, their insistence on seeing about hisroute and his ticket, Rudi's persistence about suggestions forcarrying the document--all was now plain. It must be that war wascoming and Rudi knew it. 

Dastards! To betray their guest, to cause him to go through thismiserable experience, endanger his health when he had lately been ina sick bed! Their kind hospitality, their flush demonstrations offriendliness, their little presents! This was the final mark that, to Gard Kirtley, branded the German as only a partly reclaimed Goth. 

Perhaps the atmosphere of restraint he had detected in the Buchersat the last, amid all their cordial expressions and deeds, was dueto the changed rôle they then knew they were playing as against anAmerican "pig. " At their frontier all human relations--obligations, honor, amicability, trust, good faith, religion--were exchangeablefor brutality and dastardly brutality. 

Yet who in 1914 would have believed such things? It was the case ofold Rome asleep, with barbarians swarming in Europe. Gard keptcoming back to the sole word for it all--Hun!--in the Andersondefinition. 

And what to do with the Huns--about them? Can the world ever get ona genuine, fraternal basis for living with them? Can they ever bemade to become like other people? These questions kept surgingthrough his mind as he hurried along. 

When Holland was reached that morning, his passport was declaredimpeccable and his faithful trunk caused him no trouble. Althoughthe war excitement was seizing that region he fortunately met nodelay in getting to the coast. Once out of Deutschland he feltamazingly well despite the weariness of his exhausting night. Heconcluded that the vigorous exercise and sweating he had beenthrough had steamed out of him the vileness he had found in Germany. It acted like a rejuvenating process. Gard now seemed to himselflike a clean, new man. He _was_ to be a new man. 

CHAPTER XLII

THE ANTI-CHRISTIANS?

In England, when war came, the confusion was unbelievable. All thatGard had seen, heard, gone through in Deutschland proved theawfulness of the Force flung against Europe which had stupidlyconsidered itself civilized. 

He was burning to enlist. But what a chagrin to find his servicesnot wanted! The only satisfaction he could get lay in the suggestionto wait. The more he was put off, the more he was bent on reachingthe firing line. 

In his enforced and impatient idleness he took out his German notebook and began writing letters to Rebner in America, thus givingpartial vent to his own feelings. The following brief extracts werewritten first as he went about different camps, offering himself, then at the front:

 _England, October, 1914. _

 . .. You know how I went to Germany at your urging, with every favorable impulse toward the Germans. But you had little idea what they are. If our fellow-Americans realized what was thought and said of them beyond the Rhine, they would be in battle now. 

 As there is no prospect of our Government wanting fighting men, I am trying to get into the English service. No success yet. .. . 

 How could you, my good mentor, be so in error about the race from which you sprang? Had you been in Germany, the scales would have dropped from your eyes. You have never lived with the Germans there--only read the best about the "most advanced" of mankind. They are so different from our American-Germans. You did not know that the educated Teuton at home is apt to be dirty in his person and habits, eats with his knife, walks before women, kicks his children about, has coarse or vulgar ideas on female chastity, enjoys the obscene, has no good words to say of anyone beyond his boundaries. 

 Pray do not fancy I am pretending to chide _you_. Weren't we all like you in America, dazzled before what apparently we were humbly ready to admit as the super-race? And yet in a multitude of ways it is so obviously a people set off by itself in much barbarism. There is its Gothic script which offends the eye somewhat like outlandish runes. Its very language growls and snorts at you, sounds threatening as if angry--pardon me for these sentences! There are its mud-colored towns and architecture, its rude life, rough skinned, hairy, ferocious, with tastelessness prevailing. 

 The German imagination is never shot through with clear, happy sunshine. The German emotions are distinctively expressed by thumpings in some form. The Teuton's inability to see himself as another sees him--is this not, above all, the stamp of an under-civilized people?. .. 

 * * * * *

 _England, October, 1914. _

 . .. Do not think I am unduly harsh, prejudiced, revengeful. I am trying to write in measured terms of what has been forced in upon me and my attention against my wish or expectations. 

 I have met but one American who said that war was at hand and knew what the Germans really are at home. He was an elderly journalist in Dresden who was jeered at until he almost imagined himself mentally unbalanced. Others thought him so, at any rate. 

 But Anderson was a true prophet. Dear isolated, desolated soul! I wonder where he is now. I wonder if he got out safely. How I wish I could grasp his hand and say, How wise were your convictions!

 Like myself he had gone to Deutschland to admire and love the Germans. But he found what I found--an astonishing amount of ruthlessness. How could one expect that the ultimate world-justice and world-humanity were to evolve out of a race to which the army, armed soldiers and statesmen clad in steel, stand for so much?

 How could anything of universal good come from a people who consider nothing from the viewpoint of a kindly common brotherhood? Contempt, intolerance, physical force, are what they gloat over in international relations. I discovered that when they must ask pardon or make amends, they do so with bad grace. They do not take a magnanimous and frank satisfaction or pleasure in righting a wrong. 

 You would not believe how lacking their character is in the capacity for penitence, for atonement. We will never see them sorry for any of their present enormities. The still, small voice in them has not been allowed to develop. Their notion of ethics is so different that it is inadmissible from our standards. 

 To be sensitive, grieve, suffer morally, is apart from their normal consciousness. For all this tender and beautiful side of human nature they substitute only the discomforted feelings of defeat. No matter how this present conflict ends, he who looks for any sympathetic actions or noble regrets from them will be dumfounded. .. . 

 * * * * *

 _England, November, 1914_. 

 Hurrah! I am at last, after disappointments and frettings, under way for Flanders. Lo, I am become, as it were, an Englishman! The British now see the full peril and are taking almost any kind of men, and I'm going along. I suppose it is because I am so keyed up that I feel so well. I'm surprised at myself. I guess I must have, after all, a little good Anglo-Saxon grit in me. 

 I am trying to write this scrawl to you on a round milk container in a camp near London. We are not permitted to tell where. .. . 

 As I was on the point of saying in my last letter, Jesus is never a watchword in Germany. The Nazarene meekness makes small appeal there. All is Gott. The Teuton regards Christ as too much of a weakling. Had He an army? Could He shoot, as all Germans can? He would not fight and therefore was properly destroyed. If His foolish ideas were followed, the weak would eventually rule the earth whereas, to the German mind, the strong should manifestly rule the earth. The strongest are the fittest, and the fittest should alone survive. 

 To the Goth the Christian religion and philosophy are baneful, baleful. As the result of their feeble policy was not Christ followed--the Germans claim--by the Dark Ages when mankind was obsessed by His superstitious worship? Lifting men out of this morass, the proper practical, scientific and warlike forces came at length into play and we have the magnificent modern régime whose basis is armed strength. 

 Hence--it is argued--Germany came into her own and inevitably leads the world. She represents the perfection of organized physical and mental powers which are the antitheses of the Christ ideal. 

 And so you never hear much in Deutschland about Peace and Good Will, Do as You would be Done by, Faith, Hope and Charity and the greatest of these is Charity. Such Christian texts and mottoes, which fill our American homes, churches and public places, are little in evidence in Germany because they do not enter into the life. The popular nomenclature is pagan rather than Biblical. Already in this war we behold the Kaiser drawing his names for forts and trenches from his wild pagan mythology, not from Christian sources. And in Deutschland, acts in the field count for so much more than words in the pulpit. 

 If the Huns win, Teuton hate will, of course, succeed Christian love as the human creed. Friendship, as we know it, will largely cease to exist. Friends will be those who can be cowed into truculence or bought. There will be no truth, justice, equity, in our meaning. Only the will or whim of the Emperor. His State Church, with its worship of Him, will grow as _the_ church. 

 Everything that southern and western Europe stands for, from ancient Greece to the northern points of Scotland and Ireland (with America in addition)--beauty, loveableness, the brightness of life with its joyousness, gayety, grace, charm--will be stamped down under the metallic heels of the Kaiser's battalions and bureaucrats. .. . 

 * * * * *

 _Boulogne, January, 1915_. 

 After what I have written you from Germany, and since, about my unexpected disillusionment, you will ask me:

 "Well, enough of this. What ought to be done or can be done about it?"

 I am thinking about a solution. Not original, for its framework was suggested by my old journalistic friend. I will send you an outline of his idea as he gave it to me one day. All that he said and prophesied has come so direfully true that I have now full faith and confidence in his vision and practical sense on the subject of the Goth race. For he _lived_ and observed among them seven years. 

 That's the great point--_living together_. And I do not mean living together when people are mature or old but when _young_--when minds, sympathies, etc. , are plastic and pliable. As long as the young Germans are kept home--never sent abroad unless as spies in some form--the Teutons will remain Huns. 

 Granted that they can't help it if they are born with the Hun strain in their blood which their education or instruction not only preserves but enrages. Admit that they want any barbarism eliminated from their veins. That would be an important point over which our world should hold out to them the glad hand. .. . 

 Don't be offended, but the best thing that I learned in college was to throw well from left field. At any rate it saved my life, I suppose, at Aix. And I've grown wonderfully fond of pepper. It braces a chap for this Iceland wind that howls down upon us at times. We call baseball and football a part of education. Good, brave things. The Germans don't have them because they have only "instruction. "

 From what I observed beyond the Rhine, education is a growth in free and liberal countries. As we are seeing in the war, German instruction turns out experts, but also intellectual monsters and scientific fiends--instructed heathens. .. . 

 Strange to say, I don't believe I could have stood this existence here if my system had not got a good cleansing out when I was sick. I am all the time thinking about the Huns. And it is strictly necessary hereabouts. 

CHAPTER XLIII

THE TEUTON PROBLEM. A SOLUTION

 _Flanders, a Mudhole, February, 1915. _

 . .. Is not my old friend Anderson's plan the only natural, practical, efficient method by which to humanize their barbarous instincts? Assuming that they will be defeated, as they _must_ be, the Anderson project, as you see, is that a permanent arrangement must be offered them, and if necessary enforced upon them, whereby a multitude of young German men and women shall be sent yearly to foreign democratic lands to _live_ and be educated there for a period. By attractive scholarships, by pecuniary inducements or by any of a number of programmes, young Germans can be tempted to this step. In living and studying, before middle age, under free and liberal conditions, they will begin looking at foreigners in a friendly, or what we should call a Christian, manner. After awhile, after generations perhaps, this leaven will work in the thick, tough, sour Teuton dough. It will transform the people. They will gradually become allies at heart instead of remaining hostiles. 

 As it is now, the German eats, drinks, bathes, and nauseatingly does other elemental things much as he did a hundred years ago, because he receives his instruction in his homeland with the idea, not only complacent but aggressive, that his habits are the best. And this is for the reason that he has seen no other kind when young. Do you think, for instance, that a youthful German, after living in the freedom of our young sexes, would return to the Rhine and long be content with the iron-like Teuton customs in love, courtship and marriage?

 A youthful person is apt to admire the people among whom he is staying a long while for the reason that, under such circumstances, aliens are kind. He will always take pride in these foreign connections, pride in what he has learned abroad. He will think himself more fortunate and more advanced than his fellow stay-at-homes. The young German, becoming used to more amiable modes of existence, would naturally become more or less fond of them. A broader, more human social spirit--the true social spirit--would get a hold in him. 

 I would go further than my friend Anderson. I would have _all_ civilized countries adopt this plan with one another as well as with Germany. The trouble with civilization, as seen in this war, is that no people understands or truly sympathizes with any foreign nation--not even among the Allies. They are strangers because they have been kept strangers. This creates suspicion, envy, enmity, for they have not in any noticeable degree lived together. They do not know one another's customs, habits, perspectives. As a result, armies, navies, tariffs, treaties backed by force, are necessary to hold civilization precariously in shape--and at what colossal effort, anxiety, expense? The different languages, literatures, arts, educations, religions, should become familiar to large numbers in each race and be the open, peaceful highways back and forth instead of, as now, barriers. 

 * * * * *

 _Flanders, another Mudhole, February, 1915. _

 . .. I see the woeful, tragic need for this international co-education all around us here at the front. The Canadians, Australians, English, French, all quarreling back and forth and pulling against one another as unfriendly strangers. 

 Germany is giving--has given--one great lesson to them all and to us Americans at home. And that is, IN UNION THERE IS STRENGTH. 

 After this war the tremendous question before the world will be:

 _How are we going to live with the Germans?--how get on with them?_

 The only true and gracious solution I can see is--_To associate and study together when young_! Would not you--would not everyone--agree that this interchange in education, which would not be very troublesome or expensive, is a true manner in which to remove from the German make-up its savage, destructive animus toward mankind? In order really to change a race, the work must be done from the inside outward. And this means _some_ form of education, not merely victories, edicts, Leagues. 

 Let or make the Teutons be associated with gentler cultures than their own. What if it does take a hundred, two hundred, years! What is that compared with having the German problem and menace unsolved in the future as in the past?

 Such young German missionaries year after year, as I have indicated, would be bringing back something of sweetness and light to their stubborn, irascible folk. The powerful and exacerbated bias of this folk toward the _echt Deutsch_ would be neutralized and mollified under the contact of its youths with dispositions making for kindliness and courtesy. Confessedly the stoutest race prejudices lie with those who have never stepped outside their own boundaries. 

 It is true this plan, in a small way, was tried under the exchange of professors scheme. But the Kaiser won out in that because his professors were too old and, it develops, were simply his emissaries with hostile inclinations and intent. It would appear that most of the young Americans who are partly educated in Germany are pro-German. Had they gone to England or France, they would be pro-British or pro-French. 

 It is now being shown that the German's education or instruction does not do away with the Hun element in him. The logical thing, then, is to try foreign education on him. He needs to learn in other countries, and to _live out_, their meanings of good faith and a give-and-take, manly spirit. For he at present considers it right to have no respect for his own spoken word to foreigners, or even his written word. 

 This is his old habit of the tribal fanatic. To lie to, to cheat, to steal from, to kill, aliens is no admitted sin in the moral decalogue of the Germans when an advantage can be derived. Murder, senseless destruction, violation of women, obscenity, do not therefore horrify them. If you as a foreigner strike the metallic shield of their character, no resounding ringing of what we know as conscience is heard, because extreme erudition in Germany largely takes the place of moral feelings. "Science without con_science_ is the death of man. " And the women and State religion are as Hunnish as the males. All these influences make for war. 

 This conscienceless dullness, or immense hollowness, in the Teuton people always suggests to me an eggshell encased in the pomp of steel. Should they be defeated, I feel that the nation may cave in tremendously, horribly. How can it be otherwise with a race that never sees anything foolish in itself, and exaggerates the core of its costly army and bureaucracy at the expense of the kernel?

 By living abroad a part of their study years the young Germans would little by little come to prefer to substitute amity for armaments, confident trust for suspicion, love as a motto instead of hate. For they would see that other peoples are worthy to live. They would learn more chivalry toward women and children, the beautiful significance of humanity and of universal brotherhood. They would learn that what they call weakness desirably lends delicacy, tenderness, spiritual and moral loveliness to existence which the coarse bigness and bow-wowness of the German ideal itself will never attain. .. . 

When March came, and the birds flew back to find no trees, no grass, no flowers, Gard Kirtley, in his spring-time of life, stepped outfrom his dugout in Flanders with a gun, and faced the Huns of thenortheast. He was prepared to greet Death which is the fruit of oldage but which in youth appears as with a crown of laurel. 

THE END