A Voyage Of Consolation by Sara Jeannette Duncan (rm book recommendations .txt) 📕

Should The German Youth Follow? He Was Cheerful Everywhere--As The

Forerunner Of The Comic Paper One Supposes He Had To Be--But Most

Impressive In His Effigy By His Master'S Wine Vat,  In The Perpetual

Aroma That Most Inspired Him,  Where,  By A Mechanical Arrangement Inside

Him,  He Still Makes A Joke Of Sorts,  In Somewhat Graceless Aspersion Of

The Methods Of The Professional Humorists. Emmeline Found Him Very Like

Her Father,  And Confided Her Impression To Mrs. Malt. "But Of Course,"

She Added Condoningly,  "Poppa Was Different When You Married Him."

Perkeo Was Not So Sentimental As The Trumpeter Of Sakkingen,  And The

Trumpeter Of Sakkingen Was Not So Sentimental As The Heidelberg

University Student. The Heidelberg University Student Was As A Rule Very

Round And Very Young,  And He Seemed To Give Up The Whole Of His Spare

Time To Imitating The Passion Which I Hope Has Not Been Permitted To

Enter Too Largely Into This Book Of Travels.

Dicky And I Agreed That It Was A Mere Imitation; That Is,  Dicky Said It

Was And I Agreed. It Could Not Possibly Amount To Anything More,  For It

Consisted Wholly In Walking Up And Down In Front Of The House In Which

Its Object Lived. We Saw It Being Done,  And It Looked So Uninteresting

That We Failed To Realise What It Meant Until We Inquired. Mrs.

Portheris'S Nephew,  Mr. Jarvis Portheris,  Who Was Acquiring German In

Heidelberg,  Told Us About It. Mrs. Portheris'S Nephew Was Just Fourteen

And Small Of His Age,  But He,  Too,  Had Selected The Lady Of His

Admiration,  And Was Taking Regular Daily Pedestrian Exercise In Front Of

Her Residence. He Pointed Out The Residence,  And Observed With An

Enormous Frown That "Another Man" Had Usurped The Pavement In His

Absence,  And Was Doing It In Quick Step Doubtless To Show His Ardour.

"He'S A Beastly German Too," Said Mrs. Portheris'S Nephew,  "So I Can'T

Challenge Him,  But I'Ll Jolly Well Punch His Head."

"Come On," Said Dicky,  "You'D Better Steady Your Nerves," And Treated

Him Liberally To Ginger-Beer And Currant Buns; But We Were Not Allowed

To See The Encounter,  Which Mr. Jarvis Portheris,  Gratefully Satiate,

Assured Us Must Be Conducted On Strict Lines Of Etiquette,  With Formal

Preliminaries. He Was So Very Young,  And Obviously Knew So Little About

What He Was Doing,  That We Questioned Him With Some Delicacy,  But We

Discovered That The Practice Had No Parallel,  As Dicky Put It,  For Lack

Of Incident. It Was Accompanied In Some Cases By The Writing Of Poetry,

"German Poetry,  Of Course," Said Mrs. Portheris'S Nephew Ineffably,  But

Even That Was More Likely To Be Exhibited As Evidence Of The Writer'S

Fervid State Of Mind Than To Be Sent To Its Object,  Who Plaited Her

Hair And Attended To Her Domestic Duties As If Nobody Were In The Street

But The Fishmonger. In Mr. Jarvis Portheris'S Case He Did Not Know The

Colour Of Her Eyes,  Or The Number Of Her Years; He Had Selected Her,  It

Seemed,  At A Venture,  In church,  From A Rear View,  Sitting; And Had

Never Seen Her Since. Dicky,  Whose Predilections Of This Sort Have

Always Been Very Active,  Asked Him Seriously Why He Adhered To Such A

Hollow Mockery,  And He Said Regretfully That A Fellow More Or Less Had

To; It Was One Of The Beastly Nuisances Of Being Educated Abroad. But

From What We Saw Of The German Temperament Generally We Were Convinced

That As A Native Demonstration It Was Sincere,  And That Its Idiocy Arose

Only,  As Dicky Expressed It,  From The Remarkable Lack In Foreigners Of

Business Capacity.

We All Congratulated Ourselves On Seeing Heidelberg While The University

Was In Session,  And We Could Observe The Large Fat Students In Flat Blue

And Pink And Green Club Caps,  Swaggering About The Town Accompanied By

Dogs Of Almost Equal Importance. The Largest And Fattest,  I Thought,

Wore White Caps,  And,  Though Mr. Jarvis Portheris Said That White Was

The Most Aristocratic Club'S Colour,  They Looked Remarkably Like Bakers.

The Senator Had An Object In Heidelberg,  As He Had In So Many Places,

And That Object Was To Investigate The Practice Of Duelling,  Which

Everybody Understands To Prevail To A Deadly Extent Among The Students.

It Was Plain From Their Appearance That Personal Assault At All Events

Was Regrettably Common,  For Nearly Everyone Of Them Wore Traces Of It

In Their Faces,  Wore Them As If They Were Particularly Becoming. Every

Variety Of Scar That Could Well Be Imagined Was Represented,  Some

Healed,  Some Healing,  And Some Freshly Gory. The Youth With The Most

Scars,  We Observed,  Gave Himself The Most Airs,  And The Really

Vainglorious Were,  More Or Less,  Obscured In cotton-Wool,  Evidently Just

From The Hands Of The Surgeon. The Senator Examined Them Individually As

They Passed,  With An Inquisitiveness Which They Plainly Enjoyed,  And Was

Much Impressed With Their Fighting Qualities As A Race,  Until Mr. Jarvis

Portheris Happened To Explain That The Scars Were Very Carefully Given

And Received With An Almost Exclusive View To Personal Adornment. Mr.

Mafferton Appeared To Have Known This Before; But That Was An Irritating

Way He Had--None Of The Rest Of Us Did. The Senator Regarded The Next

Youth He Met,  Who Had Elongated His Mouth To Run Up Into His Ear Without

Adding In The Least To His Charms Of Appearance,  With Barely Disguised

Contempt,  And When Mr. Jarvis Portheris Proceeded To Explain How The

Doctors Pulled Open The Cuts If They Promised To Heal Without Leaving

Any Sign Of Valour,  Poppa'S Impatience With The Noble Army Of Duellists

Grew So Great That He Could Hardly Remain In Heidelberg Till The Train

Was Ready To Take Him Away.

"But Don'T They Ever By _Accident_ Do Themselves Any Harm?" Inquired My

Disappointed Parent.

"There'S One Case On Record," Said Mr. Jarvis Portheris,  "And Everybody

Here Says It'S True. One Fellow That Was Fighting Happened To Have A

Dog,  And The Dog Was Allowed In. Well,  The Other Fellow,  By Accident,

Sliced Off The End Of The Fellow That Had The Dog'S Nose--I Don'T Mean

The Dog'S Nose,  You Know,  But The Fellow'S. That Was Going A Bit Far,

You Know; They Don'T Generally Go So Far. Well,  The Doctor Said That

Would Be All Right,  They Could Easily Make It Grow On Again; But When

They Looked For The Nose--_The Dog Had Eaten It!_ They Never Allow Dogs

In Now."

It Was A Simple Little Story,  And It Bore Marks Of Unmistakable Age And

Many Aliases,  But It Did Much To Reconcile The Senator To The University

Student Of Heidelberg,  And Especially To His Dog.

Emmeline Had Childlike Lapses; She Rejoiced Greatly,  For Instance,  At

Seeing A Strasbourg Stork. She Confessed,  When She Saw It,  To Having

Read Hans Andersen When She Was A Little Girl,  And Was Happy In The

Resemblance Of The Tall Chimneys He Stood On,  And The High-Pitched Red

Roofs He Surveyed,  To The Pictures She Remembered. But,  For That Matter,

So Were We All. We Had An Hour And A Half At Strasbourg,  And We Drove,

Of Course,  To The Cathedral; But It Was The Stork That We Saw,  And That

Each Of Us Privately Considered The Really Valuable Impression. He Stood

Beside His Nest With His Chin Sunk In His Neck,  Looking Immensely Lucky

And Wise,  And One Quite Agreed With Emmeline That It Must Be Lovely To

Live Under Him.

We Lunched At The Station,  And,  As The Meal Progressed,  Saw Again How

Widespread And Sincere Is The German Sentiment To Which I Alluded,

Perhaps Too Lightly,  In The Last Chapter. Our Waitresses Were All That

Could Be Desired,  Until There Came Between Us And Them A Youth From

Parts Without. He Was Sallow,  And The Waitresses Were Buxom; He Might

Have Been A Student Of Law Or Medicine,  They Were Naturally Of Much

Lower Degree. But They Frankly Forsook Us And Sat Down Beside Him In

Terms Of Devotion And An Open Aspect Of Radiant Happiness. When One Went

To Draw His Lager Beer He Put An Unrepelled Arm Round The Waist Of The

Other,  And When The First Came Back He Chucked Her Under The Chin With

Undisguised Affection,  The While We Looked On And Starved,  None Knowing

The Language Except Isabel,  Who Thought Of Nothing But Blushing. As Mr.

Malt Said,  If The Young Man Could Only Have Made Up His Mind,  We Might

Have Been Able To Get Along With The Rejected One; But,  Apparently,  He

Was Not In The Least Embarrassed By Numbers,  Sending A Large And

Beguiling Smile To Yet A Further Hand-Maiden,  Who Passed Enviously

Through The _Speise-Salle_ With A Basin Of Soup. It Was Only When Dicky

Stalked Across To The Old Woman Who Sold Sausages And Biscuits Behind A

Counter,  And Pointed Indignantly To The Person Who Held All The

Available Table Service Of The Strasbourg Railway Station On His Knees,

That We Obtained Redress. The Old Woman Laughed As If It Were Amusing,

And Called The Maidens Shrilly; But Even Then They Came With Reluctance,

As If We Had Been Mere Schnapps Instead Of Ten Complete Luncheons,  One

Soup,  And A Bread And Cheese,  As Dicky Said. The Bread And Cheese Was

The Count,  And One Gathered From It That The Improvement In His

Immediate Prospects Was Not Yet Assured,  That The Arrangimento Was Still

In Futuro.

We Had Become Such A Large Party,  That It Is Impossible To Relate The

Whole Of Our Experiences Even In The Half Hour During Which We Dawdled

Round The Strasbourg Waiting-Room Until The Train Should Start. I Know

It Was Then,  For Instance,  That Mrs. Portheris Took Dicky Aside And Told

Him How Deeply She Sympathised With Him In His Trying Position,  And Bade

Him Only Be Faithful To The Dictates Of His Own Heart And All Would Come

Right In Time. I Know Dicky Promised Faithfully To Do So,  But I Must Not

Dwell Upon It. Nor Is The Opportunity Adequate To Express The

Indignation We All Felt,  And Not Mr. Mafferton Merely,  At The

Insufficient Personal Impression We Made Upon The German Railway

Officials. They Were So Completely Preoccupied With Their Magnificent

Selves And Their Vast Business That They Were Unable Even To Look At Us

When We Asked Them Questions,  And Their Sole Conception Of A Reply Was

An Order,  In Terms That Sounded Brutal To A Degree. They Were

Objectionably Burly And Red In The Face; They Wore An Offensive Number

Of Buttons And Straps Upon Their Uniforms. As Mr. Mafferton Said,  They

Utterly Misconceived Their Position In Life,  Attempting To Kaiser The

Travelling Public By Divine Right Instead Of Recognising Themselves As

Humble Servants,  Buttoned Only To Be Made More Agreeable To The Eye.

One Such Person Trampled Upon Us To Such An Extent That I Have Never

Been Able To Satisfy Myself That The Senator Was Sincere In Making His

Little Mistake. We Were Sitting In dejected Rows,  With A Number Of Other

Foreigners Who Had Been Similarly Reduced,  When This Official Entered

The Waiting-Room,  Advanced To The Middle Of It,  Posed With Great

Majesty,  And Emitted Several Bars Of A Kind Of Chant Or Chime. It Was

Delivered With Too Much Vigour,  And It Stopped Too Abruptly,  To Be

Entirely Enjoyable; But There Was No Doubt About The Musical Intention.

It Was Not Even Intoning; It Was Singing,  Beginning With Moderation,

Going On Stronger With Indignation,  And Ending Suddenly In a Crescendo

Of Denunciation.

We Smiled In difficult Self-Restraint As He Went Away,  And Dicky

Remarked That He Supposed We Were In Their Hands,  We Couldn'T Object To

Anything They Did To Us. In Five Minutes He Came Back To Exactly The

Same Spot And Sang Again The Same Words,  In The Same Key,  With The Same

Unction. "Encore!" Exclaimed Mr. Malt Boldly,  But Cowered Under The

Glare That Was Turned Upon Him,  And Utterly Fell Away When We Reminded

Him Of The Punishments Attached In Germany To The Charge Of _Lese

Majeste_. Precisely Five Minutes More Passed Away,  And Bawlinbuttons,  As

Miss Callis Called Him,  Entered Again. Then Occurred The Senator'S

Little Mistake. In The Midst Of The Second