three men on the bummel-第30节

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〃Yes；　I　do；　you　grandson　of　a　French　poodle；　you　cabbage…eating〃

〃There！　　I　knew　you'd　have　it　over；〃　says　the　poor　milk…woman。　　〃I
told　him　he'd　have　it　over。〃

But　he　is　busy；　and　heeds　her　not。　　Five　minutes　later；　when　the
traffic　is　renewed；　when　the　bread　girl　has　collected　her　muddy
rolls；　and　the　policeman　has　gone　off　with　the　name　and　address　of
everybody　in　the　street；　he　consents　to　look　behind　him。

〃It　IS　a　bit　of　an　upset；〃　he　admits。　　Then　shaking　himself　free　of
care；　he　adds；　cheerfully；　〃But　I　guess　I　taught　him　the　price　of
chalk。　　He　won't　interfere　with　us　again；　I'm　thinking。〃

〃I'm　sure　I　hope　not；〃　says　the　old　lady；　regarding　dejectedly　the
milky　road。

But　his　favourite　sport　is　to　wait　at　the　top　of　the　hill　for
another　dog；　and　then　race　down。　　On　these　occasions　the　chief
occupation　of　the　other　fellow　is　to　run　about　behind；　picking　up
the　scattered　articles；　loaves；　cabbages；　or　shirts；　as　they　are
jerked　out。　　At　the　bottom　of　the　hill；　he　stops　and　waits　for　his
friend。

〃Good　race；　wasn't　it？〃　he　remarks；　panting；　as　the　Human　comes　up；
laden　to　the　chin。　　〃I　believe　I'd　have　won　it；　too；　if　it　hadn't
been　for　that　fool　of　a　small　boy。　　He　was　right　in　my　way　just　as
I　turned　the　corner。　　YOU　NOTICED　HIM？　　Wish　I　had；　beastly　brat！
What's　he　yelling　like　that　for？　　BECAUSE　I　KNOCKED　HIM　DOWN　AND
RAN　OVER　HIM？　　Well；　why　didn't　he　get　out　of　the　way？　　It's
disgraceful；　the　way　people　leave　their　children　about　for　other
people　to　tumble　over。　　Halloa！　did　all　those　things　come　out？　　You
couldn't　have　packed　them　very　carefully；　you　should　see　to　a　thing
like　that。　　YOU　DID　NOT　DREAM　OF　MY　TEARING　DOWN　THE　HILL　TWENTY
MILES　AN　HOUR？　　Surely；　you　knew　me　better　than　to　expect　I'd　let
that　old　Schneider's　dog　pass　me　without　an　effort。　　But　there；　you
never　think。　　You're　sure　you've　got　them　all？　　YOU　BELIEVE　SO？　　I
shouldn't　'believe'　if　I　were　you；　I　should　run　back　up　the　hill
again　and　make　sure。　　YOU　FEEL　TOO　TIRED？　　Oh；　all　right！　don't
blame　me　if　anything　is　missing；　that's　all。〃

He　is　so　self…willed。　　He　is　cock…sure　that　the　correct　turning　is
the　second　on　the　right；　and　nothing　will　persuade　him　that　it　is
the　third。　　He　is　positive　he　can　get　across　the　road　in　time；　and
will　not　be　convinced　until　he　sees　the　cart　smashed　up。　　Then　he
is　very　apologetic；　it　is　true。　　But　of　what　use　is　that？　　As　he　is
usually　of　the　size　and　strength　of　a　young　bull；　and　his　human
companion　is　generally　a　weak…kneed　old　man　or　woman；　or　a　small
child；　he　has　his　way。　　The　greatest　punishment　his　proprietor　can
inflict　upon　him　is　to　leave　him　at　home；　and　take　the　cart　out
alone。　　But　your　German　is　too　kind…hearted　to　do　this　often。

That　he　is　harnessed　to　the　cart　for　anybody's　pleasure　but　his　own
it　is　impossible　to　believe；　and　I　am　confident　that　the　German
peasant　plans　the　tiny　harness　and　fashions　the　little　cart　purely
with　the　hope　of　gratifying　his　dog。　　In　other　countriesin
Belgium；　Holland　and　FranceI　have　seen　these　draught　dogs　ill…
treated　and　over…worked；　but　in　Germany；　never。　　Germans　abuse
animals　shockingly。　　I　have　seen　a　German　stand　in　front　of　his
horse　and　call　it　every　name　he　could　lay　his　tongue　to。　　But　the
horse　did　not　mind　it。　　I　have　seen　a　German；　weary　with　abusing
his　horse；　call　to　his　wife　to　come　out　and　assist　him。　　When　she
came；　he　told　her　what　the　horse　had　done。　　The　recital　roused　the
woman's　temper　to　almost　equal　heat　with　his　own；　and　standing　one
each　side　of　the　poor　beast；　they　both　abused　it。　　They　abused　its
dead　mother；　they　insulted　its　father；　they　made　cutting　remarks
about　its　personal　appearance；　its　intelligence；　its　moral　sense；
its　general　ability　as　a　horse。　　The　animal　bore　the　torrent　with
exemplary　patience　for　awhile；　then　it　did　the　best　thing　possible
to　do　under　the　circumstances。　　Without　losing　its　own　temper；　it
moved　quietly　away。　　The　lady　returned　to　her　washing；　and　the　man
followed　it　up　the　street；　still　abusing　it。

A　kinder…hearted　people　than　the　Germans　there　is　no　need　for。
Cruelty　to　animal　or　child　is　a　thing　almost　unknown　in　the　land。
The　whip　with　them　is　a　musical　instrument；　its　crack　is　heard　from
morning　to　night；　but　an　Italian　coachman　that　in　the　streets　of
Dresden　I　once　saw　use　it　was　very　nearly　lynched　by　the　indignant
crowd。　　Germany　is　the　only　country　in　Europe　where　the　traveller
can　settle　himself　comfortably　in　his　hired　carriage；　confident
that　his　gentle；　willing　friend　between　the　shafts　will　be　neither
over…worked　nor　cruelly　treated。



CHAPTER　XI



Black　Forest　House：　　and　the　sociability　thereinIts　perfume
George　positively　declines　to　remain　in　bed　after　four　o'clock　in
the　morningThe　road　one　cannot　missMy　peculiar　extra　instinct
An　ungrateful　partyHarris　as　a　scientistHis　cheery　confidence
The　village：　　where　it　was；　and　where　it　ought　to　have　been
George：　　his　planWe　promenade　a　la　FrancaisThe　German　coachman
asleep　and　awakeThe　man　who　spreads　the　English　language　abroad。

There　was　one　night　when；　tired　out　and　far　from　town　or　village；
we　slept　in　a　Black　Forest　farmhouse。　　The　great　charm　about　the
Black　Forest　house　is　its　sociability。　　The　cows　are　in　the　next
room；　the　horses　are　upstairs；　the　geese　and　ducks　are　in　the
kitchen；　while　the　pigs；　the　children；　and　the　chickens　live　all
over　the　place。

You　are　dressing；　when　you　hear　a　grunt　behind　you。

〃Good…morning！　　Don't　happen　to　have　any　potato　peelings　in　here？
No；　I　see　you　haven't；　good…bye。〃

Next　there　is　a　cackle；　and　you　see　the　neck　of　an　old　hen
stretched　round　the　corner。

〃Fine　morning；　isn't　it？　　You　don't　mind　my　bringing　this　worm　of
mine　in　here；　do　you？　　It　is　so　difficult　in　this　house　to　find　a
room　where　one　can　enjoy　one's　food　with　any　quietness。　　From　a
chicken　I　have　always　been　a　slow　eater；　and　when　a　dozenthere；　I
thought　they　wouldn't　leave　me　alone。　　Now　they'll　all　want　a　bit。
You　don't　mind　my　getting　on　the　bed；　do　you？　　Perhaps　here　they
won't　notice　me。〃

While　you　are　dressing　various　shock　heads　peer　in　at　the　door；
they　evidently　regard　the　room　as　a　temporary　menagerie。　　You
cannot　tell　whether　the　heads　belong　to　boys　or　girls；　you　can　only
hope　they　are　all　male。　　It　is　of　no　use　shutting　the　door；　because
there　is　nothing　to　fasten　it　by；　and　the　moment　you　are　gone　they
push　it　open　again。　　You　breakfast　as　the　Prodigal　Son　is　generally
represented　feeding：　　a　pig　or　two　drop　in　to　keep　you　company；　a
party　of　elderly　geese　criticise　you　from　the　door；　you　gather　from
their　whispers；　added　to　their　shocked　expression；　that　they　are
talking　scandal　about　you。　　Maybe　a　cow　will　condescend　to　give　a
glance　in。

This　Noah's　Ark　arrangement　it　is；　I　suppose；　that　gives　to　the
Black　Forest　home　its　distinctive　scent。　　It　is　not　a　scent　you　can
liken　to　any　one　thing。　　It　is　as　if　you　took　roses　and　Limburger
cheese　and　hair　oil；　some　heather　and　onions；　peaches　and　soapsuds；
together　with　a　dash　of　sea　air　and　a　corpse；　and　mixed　them　up
together。　　You　cannot　define　any　particular　odour；　but　you　feel
they　are　all　thereall　the　odours　that　the　world　has　yet
discovered。　　People　who　live　in　these　houses　are　fond　of　this
mixture。　　They　do　not　open　the　window　and　lose　any　of　it；　they　keep
it　carefully　bottled　up。　　If　you　want　any　other　scent；　you　can　go
outside　and　smell　the　wood　violets　and　the　pines；　inside　there　is
the　house；　and　after　a　while；　I　am　told；　you　get　used　to　it；　so
that　you　miss　it；　and　are　unable　to　go　to　sleep　in　any　other
atmosphere。

We　had　a　long　walk　before　us　the　next　day；　and　it　was　our　desire；
therefore；　to　get　up　early；　even　so　early　as　six　o'clock；　if　that
could　be　managed　without　disturbing　the　whole　household。　　We　put　it
to　our　hostess　whether　she　thought　this　could　be　done。　　She　said
she　thought　it　could。　　She　might　not　be　about　herself　at　that　time；
it　was　her　morning　for　going　into　the　town；　some　eight　miles　off；
and　she　rarely　got　back　much　before　seven；　but；　possibly；　her
husband　or　one　of　the　boys　would　be　returning　home　to　lunch　about
that　hour。　　Anyhow；　somebody　should　be　sent　back　to　wake　us　and　get
our　breakfast。

As　it　turned　out；　we　did　not　need　any　waking。　　We　got　up　at　four；
all　by　ourselves。　　We　got　up　at　four　in　order　to　get　away　from　the
noise　and　the　din　that　was　making　our　heads　ache。　　What　time　the
Black　Forest　peasant　rises　in　the　summer　time　I　am　unable　to　say；
to　us　they　appeared　to　be　getting　up　all　night。　　And　the　first
thing　the　Black　Forester　does　when　he　gets　up　is　to　put　on　a　pair
of　stout　boots　with　wooden　soles；　and　take　a　constitutional　round
the　house。　　Until　he　has　been　three　times　up　and　down　the　stairs；
he　does　not　feel　he　is　up。　　Once　fully　awake　himself；　the　next
thing　he　does　is　to　go　upstairs　to　the　stables；　and　wake　up　a
horse。　　（The　Black　Forest　house　being　built　generally　on　the　side
of　a　steep　hill；　the　ground　floor　is　at　the　top；　and　the　hay…loft
at　the　bottom。）　　Then　the　horse；　it　would　seem；　must　also　have　its
constitutional　round　the　house；　and　this　seen　to；　the　man　goes
downstairs　into　the　kitchen　and　begins　to　chop　wood；　and　when　he
has　chopped　suffic