UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES THE GIFT OF MAY TREAT MORRISON IN MEMORY OF ALEXANDER F MORRISON E. V. LUCAS THE H AUSFRAU RAMPANT BY E. V. LUCAS FROM THE GERMAN OF JULIUS STINDE II NEW YORK GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY Copyright, 1916, BY GEOBGE H. DOBAN COMPANY PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA PT To the memory of A. E. B. R., some of whose last hours, in a long and distressing illness, were lightened by the Buch- holz narrative. - cc 2 u. O t 428391 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I A YOUNG COUPLE GIVE A BETROTHAL PARTY AND FftAU BuCHHOLz's THOUGHTS ARE TURNED TO MATCH- MAKING . . . . .89 II VISITING THE EXHIBITION WE MEET DOCTOR WRENZCHEN, AND HERB, BUCHHOLZ EXCEEDS ... 51 III HERR BUCHHOLZ HAS TOOTHACHE AND TRIES TOO MANY REMEDIES . 62 IV A NEW YEAR'S EVE PARTY IN THE LANDSBERGERSTRASSE, AND A TEM- PORARY RECONCILIATION . . 78 V A MAGNETIC PARTY WHICH LEADS TO A DRAMATIC SITUATION AND A MOTHER'S TEARS . . 80 VI A WHIT-MONDAY PICNIC AND A GRIEVOUS DISCOVERY REGARDING EMIL BERGPELDT . . .91 VII ON THE EVE OF THE WEDDING OF HERR WEIGELT AND AUGUSTA, A ROSY FUTURE DAWNS FOB EMM! . 101 [vii] CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE VIII THE MELANCHOLY REASON FOE FEAU BlJCHHOLZ AND EMMl's DEPAETUEE FOE THE SEASIDE .... 108 IX AUGUSTA WEIGELT'S FIEST-BOEN, AND THE ASTONISHING BEHAVIOUE OF ITS FATHEE ..... 124 X FEAU BUCHHOLZ LAYS A TEAP FOE THE DOCTOE AND FINDS HEESELF VEEY AWKWAEDLY PLACED . . 137 XI AUGUSTA WEIGELT'S BABY is CHEIS- TENED AND THE PASTOE JOINS THE MATCHMAKEES . . . .147 XII EMIL BEEGFELDT BREAKS OFF HIS ENGAGEMENT AND THE DOCTOE IS FALSELY ACCUSED OF EUDENESS . 156 XIII IN WHICH AN ACCIDENT LEADS TO A FATEFUL MEETING BETWEEN BfiTTI AND A YOUNG MAN " . ' ' . . 166 XIV A HAEVEST FESTIVAL, AND THE DIS- COVEEY THAT THE DOCTOE PEOB- ABLY EEALLY MEANS SOMETHING . 175 XV STEANGE THINGS GO ON BEHIND FEAU BUCHHOLZ'S BACK, AND THE DOC- TOE IS CAUGHT AT LAST . . 182 XVI THE LAST PAETY BEFOEE THE WED- DING, AND REFLECTIONS ON MOLOCH ... . . 197 [viii] CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGB XVII THE WEDDING OF THE DOCTOE AND EMMI, AND THE TEAGEDY OF A PEE- FUME 206 XVIII THS WEENZCHENS* FIEST PAETY AND THE DISASTROUS INSUFFICIENCY OF CRAWFISH . . . XIX EMMI 18 UEGED BY HER MOTHER TO TAKE A STRONGER UNE WITH THE DOCTOR 235 XX FRAU BUCHHOLZ AND BETTI EXPERI- MENT IN ECONOMY AND DOMESTIC ART, AND FAIL IN BOTH . . . 242 XXI FRAU BUCHHOLZ SITS TO A FAMOUS PAINTER AND IS BETRAYED INTO PREVARICATION .... 257 XXII THE BUCHHOLZES MAKE AN ENTRY INTO FASHIONABLE SOCIETY AND RETURN FAMISHED . . . 271 XXIII A TERRIBLE DISASTER OCCURS AT THE DOCTOR'S HOUSE AND FRAU BUCH- HOLZ MAKES THINGS WORSE . . 281 XXIV FRAU BUCHHOLZ SUDDENLY BECOMES A CRIMINAL AND IS PLUNGED INTO DESPAIR AND SHAME . . . 290 CONTENTS CHAPTER XXV XXVI XXVII XXVIII XXIX FEAU BUCHHOLZ HAS TO VISIT GAELS- BAD FOE HEE HEALTH AND WHILE THEEE SHE EECEIVES TEEMENDOUS NEWS . . . . . . 813 IN WHICH BETTI COMES WITHIN SIGHT OP HAPPINESS ONCE MOEE AND GAEL AGAIN is GUILTY or EETI- CENCE 322 FEITZ AND FEANZ PLAY WITH MAE- BLES, AND AEITHMETIC LEADS TO CASTOE OIL . . . 330 SHOWING HOW FEAU BUCHHOLZ MEETS AN EAELY ADMIEEE AND HOW SYMPATHY FEOM THE WEONG PEE- SON IS ONLY AN INSULT . . . 343 IN WHICH WE SAY FAEEWELL TO THE BUCHHOLZ FAMILY . . . 350 W THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT INTRODUCTION I CAME upon the Buchholzes by pure chance. It has before been pointed out that, no matter how fully or choicely furnished are one's own shelves, the most entertaining books are on other people's. Had I not taken a flat in an old Venetian palace I might never have come across Dr. Stinde's first volume, for it has long been out of print. But on a certain night, after another of those usual un- equal contests with a mosquito which render one wakeful and in that fractious mental mood when one's own supply of reading matter fails at every turn, I began the exploration of my landlord's shelves and found the worthy Hausfrau of the [13] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT Landsbergerstrasse. And, somehow, when I left, the book-. left too One day I must send it back. H'aving read the first, volume I ransacked old book- '.shops fcjr .the other three, making four in all, which had been published in England; and at last I found them. These are entitled, in the English transla- tion, The Buchholz Family, translated by L. Dora Schmitz; The Buchholz Family, Second Part, with the same translator ; Frau Wilhelmine, translated by Harriet F. Powell; and The Buchholzes in Italy, also translated by Harriet F. Powell. My work has been to extract from them what seemed to me the most entertaining passages, the best of the material being in the first and second parts, and join them together with some explanatory cement. I might, had I wished, have borrowed also from the further sequels, one, by Dr. Stinde himself, describing the Frau's adventures in the Orient, and another, by an unauthorised disciple, which took her to Paris. But the cream is here. The Buchholz Family is not like any other work with which I am acquainted. No doubt, as some of the critics found it, it is Dickensian in parts, although without any of Dickens's abounding comic fertility: it is more realistic than that. The nearest things to it are two English books of humour in both of which we have a satirical self-revelation: The Diary of a INTRODUCTION Nobody, by George Grossmith and his brother Wee- don, and Eliza, by Barry Pain. In each of these his- tories, both of which started out to be purely funny but were too much for their authors and became by flashes real documents, domestic anxiety and tri- umph form the theme and the narrator's character is gradually unfolded as the story proceeds. But The Buchholz Family is more consistently of the stuff of which real novels are made. And here, too, although the author's rein on himself is always tighter than those English writers', the central figure gradually conquers. At any rate, I feel sure that when Dr. Stinde was sketching out the Frau's first letter he had no notion that it was destined to be followed by so many others or any of the more serious ones. There is, however, good precedent for such development: The Pickwick Papers began purely as letterpress about a farcical club to ac- company some sporting drawings. In Germany the Buchholzes had instant success, first as a serial and then in book form. In two years from publication the first part had passed into fifty editions. Among its admirers was the man of blood and iron himself, the great Bismarck, who sent to Dr. Stinde the following appreciative letter: Dear Sir, Your having kindly sent me your THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT book, gives me a welcome opportunity of thanking you for the pleasant intercourse I have enjoyed with the Buchholzes during the long hours of leisure which have been enforced upon me by my illness. From the subtlety of your delineations of Berlin life, and your exact reproduction of the local dialect, I who have spent half my life in Berlin should never have supposed but that the author was a Berliner bred and born. The discovery of my error has served only to increase my admiration of the fidelity of your pictures. I trust Frau Buchholz's life may yet awhile withstand the hostile attacks of Frau Berg- feldt, and that she may be induced to delight us with some further sketches. v. BISMARCK. Whether the further sketches would have followed without the suggestion from this powerful source, I cannot say. Probably. Still, it is not an unin- teresting thought that Bismarck may have prolonged the Frau's literary life. The Chancellor, I might say, was Stinde's friend not only as a reader but, afterwards, in private life. The reception accorded the first part on its ap- pearance in England in 1886 was also warm; suf- ficient at any rate to justify the translation of the sequels too. But, considering all things, it is not likely, I imagine, ever to be reprinted there again. The Times reviewer found in Dr. Stinde an affinity to Dickens. The Spectator was reminded of Dutch pictures. Blackwood's Magazine, never very easy [16] INTRODUCTION to please, also was reminded of Dutch art and had the warmest enthusiasm for Dr. Stinde's genius. The Scotsman considered The Buchholz Family and I have personally proved the truth of the criticism "one of the best books to be had for reading aloud either in social gatherings or in the family circle." Their author himself realising this quality of his work, he was in great demand all over Germany to give public Buchholz readings. According to his friend, Herr Moller, he read exceedingly well. America seems to have imported some copies, even if an actual edition was not published there, for I find the New York Nation remarking that "Dr. Stinde has made his Wilhelmine Buchholz so vitally fem- inine in her petty traits that she would appeal to the heart of many a woman in other ranks of society, who would, nevertheless, consider this German woman 'common.' ' In France the book had fame too, for it was awarded by the Academy a "Certificat d'aptitude a Penseignement de la langue Allemande dans les lycees et colleges." Other works which had earlier won this distinction were Goethe's Italian Travels and Schiller's Charm and Dignity. ii Before coming to Frau Buchholz let me say some- thing about her creator. [17] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT A portrait of Julius Stinde prefixed to his collec- tion of stories entitled Heinz Treulieb, 1906, shows him to have possessed a large frame, an intellectual brow and the countenance of a man of the world. Something of a bon vivant in it, a simple, bland kindliness, and much of the humorous observer. He also looks unmarried, as he was. It is from the biographical introduction to this volume, by Herr Max Moller, that I have obtained most of the in- formation that I have gathered about the author of our book. Julius Stinde was born at Lensahn in Holstein on August 28th, 1841. His father, whom his son idol- ised as a model of all that was patient and steadfast and good, was the pastor. He remained at Lensahn even in face of an offer to become a Court chaplain ; and he accepted the post of Provost only on con- dition that he need not leave his country parish- ioners. Another son, who was a hopeless invalid through an accident in childhood, took to painting and was promising well when he died. A sister kept house for Julius after their mother's death. Lensahn remained to Stinde throughout his life a kind of earthly paradise, whither he went always to spend his birthday, and where he was buried, in a grave next to his parents. On the day of his funeral his friend Moller dropped into the inn to [18] INTRODUCTION drink to his memory in the room where he had so often played billiards, and one of the villagers, after hearing of the high esteem in which Stinde was held in Berlin and indeed all over Germany, and the fame of his writings, remarked that it was no doubt true, but very difficult to believe by old associates who remembered him as a boy dyeing the ducks a brilliant aniline. That single rem- iniscence of his childhood must suffice. On leaving school Julius studied chemistry and natural science, and after taking his degree in 1863 became a factory chemist in Hamburg. As a stu- dent, I gather from Moller, he was full-blooded and could hold his own both at the tavern and with the fencing foils. He also read omnivorously, his favourite books being the classics and treatises on magic and the black arts, in which he retained his interest to the end. Another of his later hobbies was cookery and he became famous as a judge of wine. Later, while continuing his work as a chemist, Stinde added technical journalism to his labours, and first contributed to, and then edited, the Ham- burg Reform, a paper devoted to pharmaceutical and sanitary interests, and it was in this capacity that he wrote his first book, an elaborate and very thorough monograph entitled Wasser und Seife (Water and THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT Soap) in which every aspect of scientific cleanliness is considered. Not wishing to put his own name on the title page for probably he already had ambitions to be known as a very different kind of author Stinde was amused to borrow that of the good soul who acted as charwoman at the Reform office Frau Wilhelmine Buchholz. So from this worthy lady came not only his pseudonym but later the name that is now a household word wherever German is spoken; but whether she was aware of it Herr Moller does not say. Quite conceivably not, for the charwomen of literary men can be profoundly ignorant of their employers' activities. Water and Soap was Stinde's first book. His second was also somewhat remote from the work by which his fame was to be made a eulogy of Wag- ner and particularly of his Meister singer. Wagner at that time in the early eighteen seventies had still not convinced everyone of his genius, and had many detractors; and Stinde, who adored the new music, wrote in his paper a series of critical and analytical articles in praise of the composer. These, when published in 1873, under the title of Meister- singermotive, he dedicated to Riccius, the Meister- singer conductor and so true a Wagnerite that he too had come under the displeasure of the pundits. One of the closing passages of the little book runs thus: [20] INTRODUCTION "The backbiter is as old as the world. The first backbiter was Cain who slew his brother Abel, and as often as the flames of a joyous sacrifice rise to Heaven from the altar of art, envy causes a new Cain to arise, in order that he may slay the sacri- ficer." And this is the end of the whole argument: "In the Meistersinger we see genius triumphant, and unconsciously one is overcome by a feeling of confidence that the noble and the true are the por- tals which will open themselves, notwithstanding the efforts of the scoffers to keep them closed. "And these Portals alone lead to the wonderland of poesy." It is ancient history how the world came round to the view of Stinde, who must have derived much satisfaction from the conversion. In after years Wagner visited Hamburg as guest at a banquet in his honour, at which this unknown champion, who was present, with characteristic mod- esty hid away in seclusion. "But where is Dr. Julius Stinde?" Wagner inquired. "Why is he far away in a corner"? I should like to sit opposite him;" and sit there the Master did. We have seen Stinde now as the editor of a trade organ, as the author of a work on sanitation, and as [21] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT the valiant exponent of a revolutionary composer. His next literary adventure was the writing of a comedy of Hamburg life entitled The Troubles of Hamburg, which was so successful that he was re- lieved of all financial anxiety, if ever he had any, and took advantage of his new affluence to remove to Berlin. And here I may say that although Stinde wrote other plays, largely in the Holstein dialect, he never liked the theatre. In fact he disliked it so much as deliberately to forego the rewards it prom- ised him. There was an atmosphere behind the scenes which his sensitiveness could not tolerate. In Berlin Stinde became active and experimental. He continued to write on chemistry and other scien- tific subjects; he wrote stories, serious and light, ten- der poems, and also fairy tales, of which fascinating branch of literature he had a profound knowledge and was careful to observe all the rules. Indeed, Herr Moller tells us, he could be very angry with the frivo- lous levity which some narrators for the young brought to their sacred task. It was in 1876 that Stinde settled in Berlin, and it was in 1878 or 1879 that he remembered his old Hamburg charwoman's name and decided to make use of it; this time not so much sheltering behind it as expressing himself imaginatively through it. For the purposes of satire he would assume the INTRODUCTION characteristics of a Wilhelmine Buchholz in rather a superior walk of life, a comfortable Berlin bour- geoise, and speaking through her, as a ventriloquist through a doll, genially but none the less searchingly lay bare the domestic comedy of this new city of his adoption. That he should so quickly have pene- trated below the surface of Berlin is a proof of his remarkable gifts of sympathetic observation and assimilation. How successful he was in this experi- ment and how popular he became, we have seen. But Stinde, it seems, like many another author who has prided himself on his variousness, was, although pleased by his success, piqued to find that the public associated him solely with the Buchholzes and disregarded, or received without enthusiasm, his other work; and in consequence he came gradually to write less and less. Herr Moller considers his best book Der Liedermacher, 1893. "Here," he says, "we find his quiet, manly worth, his St. George-like anger at everything which is false, his silent con- tempt for all that is not thorough, his fine sympathy for the little sorrows and joys of womanhood, his north German melancholy, his childish pleasure in all that is droll; and we find also his great redeem- ing humour and his righteous faith. The romance describes in fascinating manner, now serious, now with delicate fun, in turn, the adventures of a young [23] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT poet who enters Berlin, full of ideals, as Luther once visited Rome, and who, after being deceived, robbed, disillusioned, and disgusted, is ruined by his surroundings. Stinde gave his hero many of his own characteristics, but he did not bestow on him his humour and his physical strength, with the re- sult that he withered in the bud." But, even with this novel before them, the public still spoke only of Frau Buchholz. This fact did not tend to his happiness; while there were other causes to make him melancholy. "Julius Stinde," says Herr Moller, whose sympa- thetic understanding of his friend and pride in him make very pleasant reading, "stood alone. In spite of the true love of his brother and sisters and the friendship of a good man the painter Paulsen which always accompanied him, he stood alone, for he was denied the greatest, namely, love and a home of his own. His pride prevented him from discussing this matter, but whoever was intimately connected with him was bound to discover that he had ex- perienced a great disappointment in love and that the wound would never heal. He, who was able to depict such dear, good women, could often laugh and speak very bitterly of course without becom- ing sentimental when the talk was of those who were heartless. Who the woman was that had de- INTRODUCTION ceived him remains his secret." Perhaps we may assume that she was beautiful from the circumstance that he once remarked, "Those with the Madonna- faces can be the worst." Not only was Stinde a little sore about his own failure to make a wide reputation, but his generous nature suffered when the tide of popularity receded from his painter friend Paulsen. When Paulsen died and Stinde buried him, he buried, says Herr Moller, "a large part of his cheerfulness. After that, light jubilant happiness was no longer his guest." "Many a man," Stinde wrote, in one of the last of the Buchholz papers, in 1904, "outlives his hopes; many a man dies with them. He may still go about, and drink and laugh; but really he is dead." Although popular in every circle, and a charming conversationalist from a richly-stored mind, Stinde gradually came to confine his visits to a very few houses, in town and country. Among his closest friends were children and domestic animals. "Chil- dren," says Herr Moller, "always took to him, for they knew that he was the best of playfellows. He would accede to their behests with infinite patience, and carve the prettiest of things for them. His monks' heads, which he cut out of chestnuts, making use of the brown shell for the cowl, were really [25] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT works of art. And . . . animals discovered in the fairy-tale writer a patron, a seer, who could under- stand, and therefore love, them. He liked to have cats and dogs about him. When he went for con- templative walks under the old church limes at Lensahn and talked to the wise-looking and com- fortably purring cats, one might have been witness- ing a pretty fairy scene. Very touching was his appreciation of his own little dog's faithfulness. This creature, a neat little deerhound, had an almost human intelligence; and he was certainly taught as perhaps few animals are taught. . . . Unfortu- nately he did not fulfil his real practical purpose. He should have given the doctor grounds to go out. But Stinde was satisfied in Berlin with a beautiful balcony, on which grew all kinds of flowers, and where two tortoises passed their phlegmatic exist- ence." Latterly Stinde was more occupied with scientific research than writing; but he liked to know all that was going on and could be enthusiastic in praise. His method of reading the papers was peculiar, for he would sit at the harmonium, with these spread open on the music rest, so that while his thoughts were immersed in chemistry or medicine, his favour- ite subjects, his fingers were softly wandering over the keys. He died in 1905 at the age of sixty-four. INTRODUCTION III It was indignation, always a strong motive with her, that drove Frau Buchholz to write her first letter to the press. The historic missive which was to lead to such unsuspected results of popularity and to be the parent of such a notable and immense epistolatory progeny, running to five or six volumes, began thus: "I am an unpretending woman, Mr. Editor, and writing is certainly not my strong point, but as your paper which I am so fond of reading sometimes discusses things which can only be properly under- stood and spoken of by women, I take the liberty, as an anxious mother, to pour out my heart to you, and beg you, when my style needs touching up, kindly to put it to rights. It would be painful to me if my daughters were to discover faults in my writing; such a thing would rob me of the authority I have hitherto exercised over them. You cannot imagine what an amount children learn at school nowadays !" The grievance was then described : nothing less than the laxity which led publishers and booksellers to circulate, as "plays for children," dramas that touched too freely upon love and lovers. Before plunging into the story proper, I should [27] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT like to make a little diversion, which not only em- braces a period in the Buchholzes' life anterior to the real drama, but shows us Dr. Stinde and the Frau in company. For this purpose we must look for a moment at the volume entitled The Buch- holzes in Italy ) from which I take nothing for the body of this book, for the principal reason that, though written after the first part, the author ante- dates the travelling experiences to a time before Betti and Emmi were marriageable and therefore interesting. Nor does one quite believe in Frau Buchholz as a tourist. She was too thrifty, one feels, ever really to have consented to the trip at all, the origin of which no doubt was the circum- stance that Dr. Stinde himself, having just been in Italy, wished, like a prudent journalist, to make use of his experiences. According to the story, Herr Buchholz, having contracted rheumatic trouble, was ordered south, and Frau Buchholz agreed to accompany him. Her brother, Uncle Fritz, went too, with an eye to his business; but precisely what his business was I have not been able to discover. Like Carl's it had to do with clothing. There are some pleasant touches in the book. Thus, at the beginning: "We now divided the preparations amongst us. Uncle Fritz had to occupy himself with the route, 128] INTRODUCTION to attend to the guide-books, and to inquire from people who had already been in Italy the best way to set about the thing. All matters of equipment de- volved on me, and my Carl, poor rheumatic creature, was obliged to turn his attention to Italian, as he could not trouble himself about other matters on account of his suffering condition. It was a touching picture as the patient soul sat by the stove and in- structed himself in the strange tongue. By the end of a week, however, he thought that he could find his way along, and on the day of departure he said: 'Italian gives me no further trouble.' This made me at once proud and happy." The route as arranged by Uncle Fritz lay through Verona, Milan, Genoa, the Riviera di Levante (so dear to Germans ever since the Emperor Frederick occupied Lord Carnarvon's villa near Santa Margherita), Pisa, Rome, Naples, Florence and Venice. At Pisa Frau Buchholz became peculiarly her- self: "As singing was still going on in the cathe- dral, the leaning tower took its turn of inspection. Uncle Fritz suggested ascending it. 'That rickety thing 1 ?' I exclaimed in horror. 'Why, it might tum- ble down at any moment. Carl, you stay below!' But of what avail are any prayers when men have got a mad freak into their heads? else they would not bet that they could drink twenty drams of pep- [29] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT permint, or could trot to Charlottenberg, and be a corpse two days later. It was just the same here, for my Carl naturally wished to ascend the tower. As, however, three people must be together, in order that two may hold one at the top in the event of a desire to spring over seizing him, I thought that my refusal would be an inhibition on the ascent, but I had not taken the mob into ac- count, for some one of the beggars risks his life for a couple of coppers, and joins the party if a third is wanting. "My Carl really went and I stayed behind. 'Sup- posing the tower falls when Carl is at the top,' it flashed through me, 'it must tilt over, it leans too much to one side not to do that, for how many a new building tumbles about one's ears when it has barely been finished, while this tower has stood for who knows how long, and is only prevented by age from remaining upright! What shall I do with the un- happy children if it buries their father and supporter under its ruins, and I remain alone in the world, a widow flung from place to place?' The longer I looked at the tower the more crooked it appeared, and the greater became my fear. I shut my eyes not to get giddy, and implored in anguish of heart: Thou God in high Heaven, only let the tower remain standing until my angel Carl is once more [30] INTRODUCTION at the bottom ; I will willingly forgive all Frau Berg- feldt's injuries, although she always begins and I never retort by wishing her evil. Let the un- alterable happen later. Preserve us from sudden death, storms, fire, danger by water, from famine, pestilence and war, and wrest its victory from hell. Amen!'" At this moment a member of the Misericordia touched Frau Buchholz on the arm, plunging her into new and more immediate fears, for his costume was terrifying. The result was that "when my Carl found himself once more on level ground, I embraced him with a violence that amazed him as much as did the flood of tears that I was no longer able to control, but as my broken descriptions of what had happened did not enable him to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion, he could find no suffi- cient explanation of my behaviour. I, however, was comforted by the fact that I held him in my arms not dashed to pieces, and so I soon wept myself out." But the interesting thing to us about The Buch- holz es in Italy is that at the foot of Vesuvius Frau Buchholz met Dr. Stinde, and with him his artist friend Professor Paulsen, who afterwards was to paint her portrait. I quote the major part of her conversation with these eminent men. [so THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT "Dr. Stinde knew me and I knew him by name, as we both occasionally write for Schorer's 'Family Journal,' which may be had in Naples too. Here were two people living in one and the same town and meeting for the first time at the foot of Vesuvius. Berlin really is too cosmopolitan. "I said to him instantly : 'Doctor, you must teach me now, for I intend writing a book on Italy, and if I could import into it a dash of science, it would be enormously useful; you would hardly believe what a fashion science is nowadays/ "The doctor regretted that he had not his books with him, and so was unable to comply with my request, but I did not slacken my hold of him and asked if he liked roast goose. After he had given an affirmative answer to this with a delicate smile, I said, 'Next autumn I will invite you to dine off a roast goose, such as Frau Buchholz cooks; you will come, I hope*?' 'Goose*? . . . Oh, certainly!' 'Good, then; just bring your books with you, we can see to the rest when the things are removed.' For everything depends on the manner in which we treat people.* "I knew beforehand that the doctor would not be sufficiently impolite to meet me with a re- fusal, for I have never seen from his pen any of those social castigations, chastising his surroundings in the public papers, for impolite behaviour. I could * Indeed, the goose was excellent, for Frau Buchholz sprinkles the roast with cold water as soon as it begins to brown, by which the skin acquires an ideal crackliness. STINDE'S NOTE. [32] INTRODUCTION therefore take a certain amount of politeness for granted. . . . "A white horse with a sidesaddle had been reserved for me. To tell the truth, I had never been in a saddle since I used to have penny donkey rides as a child at the Griebenows, and would therefore gladly have given up the expedition; but the fear that the doctor might put me into the papers, and that Frau Bergfeldt might hear of my cowardice, was greater than my nervousness; I would prefer breaking my neck to that ! "I must confess that I arrived in the saddle better than I expected, but when I was comfortably set- tled it turned out that my steed was not like-minded with myself. Instead of going to the right it took the left, went backwards instead of forwards, as if its forelegs had been fastened on behind, until, to the delight of the spectators, it squeezed me against a garden wall, which was all the more unpleasant as I was not wearing a proper riding habit. " 'Do consider that the nag is not your Carl,' Uncle Fritz called out to me, 'and leave it more liberty.' Unfortunately my position was too critical to allow of my answering him with becoming scorn. . . ." All rode up the volcano together, for it was before the days of the funicular railway. "When body and soul had been restored once more to their normal relations by means of food and drink, [33] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT we exercised our gymnastic powers in crossing the sulphureous crevasses, and ascended the cone of eruption. We were certainly standing immediately beside the smoke and hole, but it was impossible to distinguish anything accurately amid the fumes. Even the doctor was just as wise after he had looked down as he was before, and thought that vulcanism was still as ever an unsolved riddle. I must ac- knowledge that this decision caused my faith in science to be considerably shaken, for if it does not know what happens to Vesuvius, which is visible to its eyes, what can it know of things that happened on earth millions of years ago, when it was not present, although it says such and such things have been? In saying this, however, I must not be under- stood as throwing stones at science generally, for did it not exist there would be neither aniline dyes nor salicylic acid, and what would our existence be like without these two things'? A colourless, un- healthy Nothing! No, justice remains justice; science is not without its deserts. "I expounded this idea to the doctor, and asked him whether his love of investigation was not suf- ficiently great to make him find a pleasure in being let down into the crater by means of an iron chain, to which he answered quite dryly, 'No.' If, how- ever, it had to be done, he would only undertake it in my company. "'Doctor!' I exclaimed in horror, 'how can you demand that I should be burnt to death alive in that flaming cauldron?' 'Well,' he answered, looking [34] INTRODUCTION dreadfully innocent, 'I thought you took such a deep interest in science that you would not mind running the risk of a few square feet of blister!' 'What are you thinking about*?' an- swered I. 'Surely science exists principally for the entertainment of us ladies, and to make the terrestrial globe to some extent interesting to us!' "The doctor put on a still more innocent look, and then said, after a pause: 'You are right, science is scarcely to be distinguished from amusement nowa- days, but that does not make it incumbent on learned men to stake their lives as unnecessarily as their repu- tation/ I must acknowledge that I did not quite understand what the doctor intended to convey, but I assume with confidence that it was a piece of spitefulness.* "However, I saw no occasion to involve myself in a discussion amid these smoky surroundings; when volcanoes speak, man must be silent. Besides, the mountain was conducting itself in a highly uncom- fortable manner, with all its noise ; but as it is, so to speak, a Neapolitan child, one cannot well demand quiet, well-bred behaviour of it. The doctor also had the kindness to inform me that on the occasion of the eruption of Vesuvius on April 26, 1872, a fissure had opened suddenly on the side of the cone, and a number of visitors wishing to see the spectacle from close at hand, had been burnt to death by the lava, a story that caused my feeling of security, * I am never spiteful. STINDE'S NOTE. [35] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT which was sufficiently wavering without it, to sink considerably. The small stones which were falling down from high above us, some of which indeed touched us, the heated surface and the fumes of sulphur soon drove us away, but before we left I cried: 'Gentlemen, please allow me one moment longer. Do you see these skat cards, which I have sworn to send to the place where they belong to hell*?' At the word 'hell' I flung the pack of cards, which I had secretly abducted from Uncle Fritz, into the smoking abyss. Uncle Fritz exclaimed in anger, 'Wilhelmine, you are ,' but he got no farther, for at the same moment there was such an unprecedentedly violent uproar in the interior of the crater, that the ground trembled beneath our feet, and we were overwhelmed by a hail of fairly sized fragments. I took nimbly to my heels and made sure that I got down, for I believed that the moun- tain was about to open up again, and get me into the flaming lava. My knees were tottering for a long time afterwards. In what direction Vesuvius vomited the four knaves is a problem that, like vulcanism, will probably remain insoluble for ever. . . . "It was not until we were seated at a well-laid table in the restaurant of Vermouth di Torino at Naples, nor till the artist Paulsen had ordered a bot- tle of Chianti, containing at least five litres, that the consciousness of our humanity was borne in upon us. My Carl dined off a roast quail served on a risotto. I asked: 'How does it taste*?' He answered: [36] INTRODUCTION 'The most miserable creature could eat it.' Then I ordered one for myself. "As the professor and the doctor intended tak- ing boat across to Capri the next morning, and as it was of consequence to me to induce the latter to edit my book, I said that we intended doing the same. Hereupon we discoursed much of science and art. . . . "Of course Uncle Fritz disturbed the conversation, for he had gone off to a shop and bought a fresh pack of cards." And now for the domestic adventures of the Buchholz Family. The Landsbergerstrasse, where they lived, is, I should say, in north-eastern Berlin, running from the Alexander Platz to the Friedrichs- bain; and every house in it was, in the eighteen seventies and eighties, the home of a middle-class German family of which the Buchholzes were a type: Herr Carl Buchholz, who, in addition to his business by day, had, as a vestryman, certain munici- pal duties which perhaps lifted him a shade above most of his neighbours, but being a modest, self- contained and just man he would never have claimed the superiority; Frau Wilhelmine Buchholz, nee Fabian; and their two daughters Betti and Emmi. That was the family; but Frau Buchholz's brother Fritz, a jocular convivial man about town, must be added to it. It is with these five persons and cer- tain of their friends and acquaintances that the book [37] 438991 THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT is concerned. The writer nominally is Frau Buch- holz herself, and for the greater part Dr. Stinde maintained with success the illusion of feminine au- thorship ; but now and then one is conscious of a turn of thought of which she would not have been likely or even capable, while it is doubtful if she would have given herself away in print quite as often as the humorous necessities of the book demand. But taken as a whole the work is a great feat of impersonation, and it reveals in its author a mind conspicuous for sagacity and human sympathy. Spring, 1916. E. V. L. [38J CHAPTER I A YOUNG COUPLE GIVE A BETROTHAL PARTY AND FRAU BUCHHOLZ'S THOUGHTS ARE TURNED TO IMATCH-MAKING The book proper begins here> with the account of the visit to Bilse's concert room; because it is here that we have the first hint that Frau Buchholz's daughters Emmi and Betti are marriageable, and the true theme of the work is marriage. Let us there- fore take that as our start. Here we meet also Frau Bergfeldt, who is to re- main a thorn in the side of Frau Buchholz through- out the whole work. YOU must now allow me to tell you of a sur- prise I had the other day. Well, I was sitting thinking absolutely about nothing, when the house- bell rang and the postman came in and handed me a money order. At first I wouldn't believe the order was for me, but I was obliged to sign the paper, and the man then put down the gold pieces on the [39] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT table and went away. I found out that the money came as a payment for the letter I had written to you. Now really I had never expected such a thing, and then what an amount! I was quite overcome, and could not help crying, and the girls cried too. The money lay there on the table; it seemed to me as though it might vanish any moment if I touched it, and I could have fancied that the postman had been a spirit from fairyland, had he not left pretty visible signs of his footmarks on the floor. My husband said to me: "Wilhelmine, I am really proud of you, for you have earned all that as an authoress!" "Carl," said I to him, "I have per- haps sometimes been a little hard upon you, but it shall never happen again; no, certainly never again, dear." He threw his arms round me and kissed me, and I could not help beginning to cry again. Emmi and Betti clung about me, seeing me still uncon- soled, and dried their own tears. "Now, have done, children," I said coaxingly, "it's only joy that's mak- ing me cry." I could not help thinking, "If only Frau Heimreich could see all this, how envious she would be !" "What shall you do with all that money, Wilhel- mine?" said my husband. "I shall keep it as an everlasting remembrance," I replied, "or if it can't be otherwise, I shall buy myself a new bonnet; my old one is altogether out of fashion. Frau Krause [40] A BETROTHAL PARTY has just bought herself a new one." The children thought it best I should buy a new bonnet, so I gave in to their clamouring, and we all three went straight off to our bonnet shop. But as there was a nice bit of money over, I said to them : "With this we will all go and spend a happy day together somewhere. What do you say to going to Bilse's concert-room*? I will put on my new bonnet, and father shall come and fetch us home!" The children's delight knew no bounds, and on our way home we turned in at the confectioner's and had chocolate with whipped cream on the top, and also something good to nibble at. It was delicious ! In the evening we set out early so as to get good places at Bilse's. When we entered the hall, I saw a friend of mine sitting at one of the tables. We exchanged salutations and I said: "Good-evening, Frau Bergfeldt, I am glad that we should have met. How Augusta has grown since I last saw her!" Frau Bergfeldt clearly thought too that her daughter had improved. I soon saw, however, that it was only her dress that made Augusta seem to have grown; it was made in the latest fashion with a train and cuirass bodice, and her hair was combed down over her forehead like a pony's mane. In my daughter I would not have put up with such things, although Betti would have looked quite as well in THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT that style of dress. Augusta has been confirmed two years ago, it is true, but is nevertheless still so thin and awkward, it seems a crying shame to dress her like a grown-up person. Girls that have such skinny elbows had certainly better wear long sleeves. We took seats at their table, but when Emmi was about to sit down beside Augusta, Frau Bergfeldt said the chair was engaged, as Emil was coming later. I said: "But there are two empty chairs, surely Emil can't want more than one!" Where- upon she replied, somewhat embarrassed, that Emil was going to bring a friend with him. "Aha," thought I to myself, "there's something in the wind here. I shall watch." And not long afterwards Emil did come sure enough and with him a friend, who, as I gathered later, is a law-student like Emil, and had still a couple of years' study before him. Just as I had expected, the friend sat down on the chair beside Augusta, who coloured up to her eyes and behaved more awkwardly even than she had done before. Emil took his seat beside Betti, and thus our table was full. The concert began, and the musicians had scarcely begun to play when Frau Bergfeldt drew a stocking out of her pocket, and began knitting so busily one would have thought she meant to earn back the money she had paid for her entrance. While the [42] A BETROTHAL PARTY music was slow and solemn she knitted away quietly, but when a valse struck up, the rhythm seemed to get into her fingers and she let so many stitches drop that Augusta had afterwards to undo all she had done ; this explained to me why the knitted part had lost its whiteness. No one can be more in favour of industry at home than I am, for I detest to see folks idle; but when one goes to a concert to improve one's mind, it is ridiculous to try to divide one's attention between a symphony and a stocking. Moreover, I don't be- lieve that Beethoven wrote those heavenly compo- sitions of his, simply that people might knit while they were being played. And how grand those symphonies are! When everybody sits there as if plunged four cellar-stairs deep in thought, one fancies that nothing could rouse them up but a good sousing with cold water. But that's the power of music ! Between the parts we chatted away pleasantly. Emil began an interesting conversation with Betti about German literature, and as she had only shortly before been reading one of Marlitt's novels, she had something to say for herself. She thought too that Marlitt described her characters splendidly, and considered it perfectly right that the baron was shot, and that the brave and manly engineer should marry the countess. When children have been taught some- [43] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT thing, they can afterwards put in a word themselves nicely. , Augusta Bergfeldt and the law-student scarcely uttered a syllable, but every now and again they looked sideways at each other in a loving way, and that language was plain enough. Frau Bergfeldt pretended that she did not notice anything; she always addressed the young man as "dear Herr Weigelt," and asked him what he was doing, how his parents were, and why he did not wear the mittens which Augusta had worked for him. "You no doubt want to keep the young man warm by giving him mittens as a present," I whispered to her, without meaning any mischief by the joke. But she cast a spiteful glance at my new bonnet and said: "We go in more for what is useful, not for flimsiness and trumpery." I was speechless! To have my new bonnet called trumpery! If I had borrowed it, or had tormented Carl for the money for it, it might have been a different matter. When I had recovered myself, I replied: "When a husband has to earn all the money by himself, it is wrong for a wife to follow the fashions too much." That was a pretty good hit at her! During the second part we ate the cakes I had brought with me ; the two young gentlemen lit their cigars, and the more beautiful the music became, the closer drew the chairs of Augusta and young Wei- [44] A BETROTHAL PARTY gelt. I did not say anything further, but noticed that when the band played a pot-pourri of very af- fecting music bringing in the air "Oh, that thou wert my own," the two were sitting hand in hand, looking at each other sentimentally. The concert at last came to an end; Carl and Herr Bergfeldt were waiting for us at the entrance, and we then proceeded to a restaurant, where we en- gaged a room for ourselves, to be more comfortable. Carl had told Herr Bergfeldt how I had got my new bonnet, and he congratulated me and said that he now classed me among German authoresses. His wife, however, remarked and I am sure she spoke out of pure envy "that ladies who took to their pen never troubled themselves much about domestic matters." "Indeed," said I ; "at all events, I trouble myself more about my girls than you do about yours. I should never allow one of mine to go flirting with a student as your Augusta does." I can tell you, my words fell like a bomb among them, and made Herr Bergfeldt exclaim: "What's that you say 1 ? Herr Weigelt, I trust you are not . . ." "Oh, Goodness, papa!" cried Augusta. "Franz means it all in earnest !" exclaimed Frau Bergfeldt. "Who's Franz*?" asked the father vehemently. "It's Herr Weigelt," replied his wife. "He loves Augusta faithfully and deeply. . . ." "I must beg a word with you, sir, about all this," [45] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT said Herr Bergfeldt, addressing young Weigelt, who stood there with a face the colour of confiscated milk; and, my Goodness, how he did quake! Just like one of those new-fangled electric bells. One really could not help pitying him. "Who are you?" inquired the father. "I'm a law-student," he replied. "Where did you become acquainted with my daughter?" "At Bilse's con- cert-room." "And they are so much in love with each other!" exclaimed Frau Bergfeldt. "Oh, we are, Papa!" cried Augusta in tears. "But you are too young a fellow to think of marrying, and a father is not likely to give away his daughter so long beforehand." "Oh, Papa, you will break my heart!" sobbed Augusta; "Franz is so good!" "Do you wish to make our child unhappy*?" put in the mother. Young Weigelt stood before the father like a criminal awaiting his sentence, and didn't seem able to utter a word. "Will you promise to consider my child's happiness?" said Herr Bergfeldt, addressing him. "Will you promise me to be industrious, to pass your examinations, to live steadily, and to oh, my child, my eldest, my firstborn ... !" He could not go on, and Augusta too was dissolved in tears, and when the mother then quickly placed the young people's hands in one another and said "Bless you, my children," they were both in tears. And indeed [46] A BETROTHAL PARTY it was a very affecting moment. My own eyes were full of tears, still I could not help quietly saying to myself that the engagement had, at any rate, been far too hastily made. He can't keep himself yet; and she with her skinny elbows he will be astonished when he sees them ! Although the Bergfeldts have not acted very kindly towards me, still I congratulated them, and said I hoped they would not need to repent having betrothed their girl so early to so young a man. That he was young could be seen at once, from the small crop of hair on his face. I, for one, should never have cared to have had him as a son-in-law. Surely outward appearance goes for something, why else should I have cared to buy a new bonnet? Well, the betrothal was celebrated in all quiet- ness, and we determined not to mention a syllable about it, till young Weigelt had passed his examina- tions. Yet how can an engagement be kept quiet? First of all the washerwoman gets to hear of it, and before a week is out the news has spread round the whole circle of one's acquaintance; that I know by experience, for it was the same when I was engaged to Carl my father wished to keep it secret, but my mother could not keep quiet about it. Herr Bergfeldt was more silent than usual, and kept rolling up his bread-crumbs into little balls; his wife, however, put on as beaming a face as pos- [47] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT sible. And I will not deny that to have a newly- engaged daughter may well fill a mother's heart with pride and pleasure, yet surely only when one can make some show of the lover, and also when he has not, as it were, been dragged on by the hair of his head, but merely followed the gentle promptings of love. Owing to Herr Bergfeldt being very monosyllabic, we did not stay long. He found fault with every- thing, even with what pleased us. This behaviour of his made upon the attendants the impression that we were very genteel folks, and this was one good thing. On our way home I asked Carl if he had not noticed that young Weigelt had a very dazed kind of look, that is to say, looked as if he himself had fancied the engagement had been hurried on a little too quickly. Carl thought the young fellow must be a ninny, otherwise he would not have allowed himself to be so bamboozled; for it was quite clear that the mother had managed the matter, and that she had taken the girl to Bilse's in order to show her off, not for the music. He added that he wouldn't like me to take our girls to such places without him. I replied that he might depend upon me, that I would take care that our girls did not become en- gaged like that, and that I knew how to keep off young fellows without any prospects. We went on talking, for one word led to another, and there was [48] A BETROTHAL PARTY no peace till Carl stopped speaking; this he always does when we don't agree, and it vexes me all the more, for I never know what he may be thinking to himself. It is a difficult thing to deal with men. When we got home, Betti asked when we should be going to Bilse's concert-room again, whereupon her father said: "Not for a long time to come." Betti looked very disappointed and muttered some- thing about having promised Emil Bergfeldt to be there next Thursday. This was a pretty bit of news for me ! But I set to at once and gave them all a pretty talking to, which they richly deserved : Carl, because he had not been with us; Betti, because she had been making plans with Emil without my knowledge ; and Emmi, because she ought to have heard, and to have told me what the two were planning. We were an ill- humoured company, and the day which had begun so delightfully ended in vexation and annoyance. When I was alone with Carl I said to him : "We must look well after our girls, for such engagements as we have seen to-day must surely never be heard of in our family !" Carl thought that if mothers would only be sensible, such ridiculous proceedings would never happen, even though young people looked at each other ever so kindly, and the music were ever so sentimental. But I should like to know how much men understand about such things'? [49] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT It is quite possible that Emil Bergfeldt may have finished his law studies in a couple of years, and Betti is ten times as pretty as that skinny Augusta who was now engaged. And as to the music, the band at Bilse's plays splendidly, all but the drum- mer, who bangs away at his instrument as if he wanted to smash it, and it wouldn't be smashed. Why should one not go to the concerts oftener*? It cannot be denied that he is a fine-looking young fellow, and would look specially well in a sergeant's uniform, if not a lieutenant's. CHAPTER II VISITING THE EXHIBITION, WE MEET DR. WRENZ- CHEN, AND HERR BUCHHOLZ EXCEEDS I WILL not trouble you with a description of the Exhibition, I should really need to be a profes- sional writer for that; so I will only remark that the impression made upon me, as well as upon the chil- dren, was an overpowering one. Carl, who had been to see it several times, struck me as rather indifferent to its splendour, both generally and in detail. It was a very hot day, so Carl offered to let us have some little refreshment at the Moabite beer- house, and we did not say nay to that. Carl went to fetch the beer himself, and walked straight up to a fat Bavarian who was drawing the stuff from a gi- gantic barrel. I thought to myself how gallant and good that Carl of mine is, what a truly admirable husband, when my eyes caught sight of a Munich barmaid, in her gay, fantastic costume, who was THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT handing him the change and smiling at him as if he were an old acquaintance. That smile struck me to the heart, but not a word did I say; in my own mind, however, I resolved never to let him go to the Exhibition again alone most firmly did I vow that to myself ! The beer tasted like wormwood to me, which can- not be wondered at considering the circumstances. I could not drink it, and so gave it to the children that it might not be wasted. Carl said to me: "You do not seem to like the beer, Wilhelmine; shall we try some lighter kind*?" "The sun is too hot here," I replied, casting a glance at the barmaid, but Carl did not or would not understand what I meant. "Very well, let us go to the Bohemian brewery," was his answer. I was glad to get away, and we sauntered along to the Bohemian bar. There, to our great joy, we met not only Uncle Fritz, but also Dr. Wrenzchen, the doc- tor who had attended me when Frau Bergfeldt's shameful behaviour threw me upon my sick-bed. It was very pleasant meeting him, for, to a patient, a doctor does always seem a kind of supernatural be- ing, a very angel of comfort, especially when he is kind and gentle, and knows how to cheer up a suf- fering fellow-creature with a neat little joke every now and again. Well, we soon got chatting very pleasantly. Carl and Fritz meanwhile began dis- [52] VISITING THE EXHIBITION cussing which was the best beer, my husband having said that I seemed to prefer the Bohemian to the Moabite. But then he didn't know what good rea- sons I had for liking it best. The one declared this, the other that, so, as they couldn't agree, Uncle Fritz was wicked enough to propose a beer wager, which Carl took up, in spite of a significant cough from me, though the doctor kept out of it. I then remarked that it was high time we saw something of the Exhibition. Carl, how- ever, declared that he must go the round of the beers with Fritz so as to settle the wager, and that therefore I had better go alone with the children. He further said that he and Fritz would meet us in the Old German wine-room at five o'clock. The doc- tor offered to accompany me and the girls, for, as he said, he was just then taking Marienbad waters at home for his stoutness, and therefore, would have to forego the pleasure of the beer-tasting trip. Carl put on a face as innocent as if he had only just been confirmed. I saw through him, however, although I said noth- ing at the time, for I did not want the doctor to notice that our domestic happiness was disturbed and likely to collapse altogether; moreover, Betti had taken rather a fancy to him, and Emil Bergfeldt is after all no proper match for her. That letter of his mother's and the broken stew-pan were enough [53] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT to separate us for ever from that family. And then, a doctor in the family would be so very convenient; he could not, of course, charge his relatives for every little, trifling bit of advice. All I said to Carl on parting was: "Now, Carl, remember and keep to one sort; you know you can't stand taking a lot of different kinds." The doctor then led us through the Exhibition. It was really wonderful how he explained everything. Betti was quite overcome with amazement, in fact I had more than once to whisper to her : "Don't stand with your mouth wide open like that, you look too ridiculous." When passing the furnished rooms, I made the remark that middle-class folk could never afford such luxuries, whereupon the good doctor said : "The smallest of rooms is big enough for a happy, loving couple!" "Do you hear, Betti," said I, "what excellent ideas the doctor has about life*?" But instead of making any sensible reply and yet we subscribe to the 'Gartenlaube' magazine she suddenly shut her mouth with a click, for it was open again, and my speaking to her made her think that I was again about to give her a motherly rebuke. To make up for the girl's stupidity, I said knowingly: "Betti is so overcome by all these productions of the busy human mind in industry and art, that she did not hear your excellent remark, dear Doctor." "Don't mention it, madam," said he, kind as ever; [54] VISITING THE EXHIBITION "it's only external." I tapped him gently on the arm with my fan, which served me in place of a parasol that day, and tried to take up the thread of our conversation again by saying: "Quite right, Doctor; the main thing is, after all, that there should be a harmony of hearts." He looked at me side- ways a little, and seemed to wink with his one eye, and I was just about telling him what Betti would have at her marriage, and that there would be some- thing more when we came into the money which my aunt in Biitzow was to leave us, when Emmi all of a sudden exclaimed aloud: "Oh, look, Mamma, how bright that bath is, and water is actually running into it!" Although she is my own flesh and blood, I could at that moment have done her some injury, for that senseless exclamation put an untimely end to a con- versation upon which her sister's happiness depended. How pleasant it would have been had Betti and the doctor left the Exhibition that afternoon an en- gaged couple, and how it would have vexed the Berg- feldts. For if a doctor with a practice were to be weighed against an ill-fed law-student, the latter would prove by far the lighter of the two surely. But now the conversation was broken off once and for ever, and could not be taken up again; in face of a bath, love-affairs could surely not be discussed, at least such a thing would go against my feelings. [55] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT The right moment was clearly lost. I cannot, of course, get ill again simply to have the doctor about me, and he is not likely to come of his own accord. All I could now do was to count upon the walk home. The doctor looked at his watch and said it was time to go to the wine-room, where we had appointed to meet my husband and Uncle Fritz, and so away we went. But, oh, that bath ! I gave it such a look at parting that verily it would have blistered had it not been of the best workmanship; might it not be said that in it lay buried the happiness of my eldest child! We had to pass through the spirit department, where the exhibitors invited us most pressingly to taste their samples free of charge, and the doctor actually induced us to try a little of one of the ladies' liqueurs. Just as I was about to express my thanks for this civility, I caught sight of Carl, who was having some stuff poured out for him and seemed to be tasting several kinds of brandy. I went up to him and said: "Carl, do you call this waiting for us?" "Well, well," he said, and laughed, "that at the Moabite is the best after all." "Have you been there again*?" I asked. "Of course, my darling," said he, chucking me under the chin. "Carl," said I severely, "you have been drinking too many sorts." "I've not had enough yet though," said he cheerily. "Where is Uncle Fritz?' "Oh, the muff! He [56] VISITING THE EXHIBITION wouldn't even come to the liqueurs. I haven't a notion where he is." "Doctor," said I, "do take my husband by the arm, so that the children may not notice anything; he has but a poor stomach." "Oh, it's only external," replied the doctor, taking hold of Carl and drawing him away. It was most kind of Dr. Wrenzchen taking so much trouble with my husband, and trying to make him take some interest in the Exhibition, in spite of Carl always wanting to get back to the liqueur- stall and maintaining that he had not tried all the different sorts. However, the doctor held him firmly by the arm, and when we were passing the surgical department which was close to the liqueurs, he be- gan telling him what all the different knives and saws, the cauterisers and probes were used for, and also made him look at the artificial legs and arms. "Oh, how much misery there is in the world!" exclaimed Carl. "Unhappy mortals! Children, thank Heaven your limbs are sound. Ah, poor suf- fering humanity, what an amount of misery this makes one think of!" As he was lamenting thus, some one at the moment struck up on the organ close by Dies ist der Tag des Herrn. This brought things to a climax. Carl's feeling so overcame him that he began to sob vio- lently, and kept exclaiming "Children, thank THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT Heaven ! Yes, we need all do that !" And with this he sank down on a chair crying bitterly. When the children heard and saw all this they were frightened and horror-struck. "Oh, Goodness ! what is the matter with papa," shrieked Emmi. "Oh, Papa, dear Papa!" cried Betti. People gath- ered round us, and among the crowd whom should I see but Frau Bergfeldt with Augusta, and that gaunt, miserable-looking student of hers ! I felt as if the heavens were coming down upon me. "Chil- dren," I cried, "stand in front of your father; this is no sight for persons without feeling and culture." "Ladies and gentlemen," said good Dr. Wrenz- chen, "I beg you to move on this gentleman is feel- ing a little ill from the great heat; he will soon be all right again." And the people did move away, only the woman Bergfeldt kept standing where she was. "Heat 1 ?" she called out in a scoffing tone of voice, "it's more likely he hasn't had anything proper to eat; when a wife takes to writing, the husband has to suffer for it. Come, Augusta and Franz, we are to have chicken and asparagus for supper this evening." I was speechless. The Bergfeldts with asparagus! Good heavens! a few heads, maybe, as a treat at Whitsuntide, but only then surely! Asparagus*? I would have liked to choke her with that lump of cyanide of potassium which we had just been admir- ing, because, as we were told, it was strong enough to [58] VISITING THE EXHIBITION poison all the inhabitants of Berlin, Charlottenburg and Rixdorf put together yes, at that moment I would willingly have stuffed it down her throat. The organ meanwhile was playing away, and Carl jabbering on about the miseries of poor, suffering humanity. When he became a little more pacified I drove him home; the girls remained with the doctor for the concert. At first I did not wish to accept his offer to be their cavalier, but I gave in, especially as he seemed to wink at me in rather a knowing way. When we got home I gave Carl a pretty talking to, and he was quite crestfallen. "Dearest Wilhelmine, I will never again touch a liqueur." "And will you never again allow yourself to be tempted by Fritz to go in for a beer wager*?" "No." "And never again go flirting with that Bavarian barmaid?" "Now, Mina dear." "Well then, with no barmaid whatever?" "How can you say such things ?" "And will you go and inform against that Frau Berg- feldt for her insulting language to me?" "I will do anything and everything you wish, dear, but cannot do as you wish about Frau Bergfeldt." "So you mean to allow her to go on at me like a rattlesnake ?" "There is nothing to accuse her of." I saw clearly there was something wrong and therefore said: "Carl, do tell me what all this means, for my happiness and that of our children is [59] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT at stake. What is it that Frau Bergfeldt knows about you 1 ?" When I had got him meek enough, he made his confession; it was this: Once, long ago, when he and Bergfeldt were still young fellows and full of youthful spirits, they had celebrated a birthday to- gether, and at night had kicked up a row with one of the watchmen, which ended in their both being carried off to the guardhouse; unfortunately, as it was late on a Saturday night, they had to remain there till Monday morning. "Is that all," said I, "and she fancies she could brew mischief with that ! Why that's nothing at all, Carl ; to my mind it needs a good bit of courage to attack a watchman, and in courage you've never been wanting. It's only drink- ing different sorts of things together that you can't stand." He then promised me to be careful in future, and I know him well enough to know that he will keep his word. The girls did not return till Carl was in bed, for he had retired earlier than usual. When they came in I asked them- how they had enjoyed themselves. "Very much," said Emmi; "and the doctor kept winking with one eye all the time." "Did he really, Betti, my darling child?" "Yes, Mamma, the whole evening." "And what did he say to you?" I asked, full of curiosity. VISITING THE EXHIBITION "He said that he was probably getting a sty in his eye," cried Emmi ; "and that he had felt it all the afternoon." "Well, well," said I, "a doctor must know that best." Later in the evening I learned that it was Fritz who had played the organ at the Exhibition, that so upset Carl. He got it pretty hotly from me for his trouble! CHAPTER III HERR BUCHHOLZ HAS TOOTHACHE AND TRIES TOO MANY REMEDIES A WEEK ago we celebrated our wedding-day it was one of the most abominable days I ever remember. This anniversary to me, otherwise, is the happiest fete of all the year, more than Easter or Whitsuntide put together, for it is my special day, and moreover Carl is the patron saint of the day. It might be asked why the day isn't a special day for Carl as well. Of course it may be, but then, how can I tell whether I have made him as happy as he has made me*? I can only hope I have; yet I cannot imagine that any mortal soul could ever have been as happy as I was that first wedding-day when he gave me his name, and before God and all the peo- ple in the church proclaimed his love for me aloud and publicly. I remember I couldn't get that one word "yes" to cross my lips; I felt frightened at [62] TOOTHACHE seeing the great number of people, and yet I could have shouted for joy. So when our wedding-day comes round, that first day rises up vividly in my remembrance as if it had only been yesterday; and when Carl embraces me, with never a word, and gives me a kiss, I feel as if he were still my bridegroom, with the sprig of myrtle in his buttonhole, a white necktie, and beautifully dressed hair; yet nowadays I have him only in a dressing-gown, and his hair is apt to be tousled early of a morning. In the evening we always have a small gathering of friends and acquaintances, and something extra good for supper. Carl is not one to despise his food, and I'm glad when he finds things tasty. On this particular occasion he hardly touched anything, and I was uneasy about him. "Is anything the matter, Carl !" I asked. "Oh, no!" he said, but I noticed that his "oh" was drawn out half the length of the Friedrich Strasse. I begged him to tell me what ailed him, but he persistently refused to answer any questions, and, in fact, was, I may say, a little unpleasant towards me. Our last visitors did not leave till half-past one o'clock. When we were alone I could not help com- plaining of his behaviour during the evening, where- upon he said that he had toothache, and hadn't been [63] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT in the humour to enjoy himself. I proposed that he should have a handkerchief tied up his head, but he ridiculed this and said the pain was not much and would probably go off by itself. So I went into the kitchen to pay the charwoman, who generally comes in to help when we have friends. I let a word or two drop about my husband having the toothache, whereupon old Grunert that's to say, the charwoman said she knew of an excellent sympathetic remedy which had cured num- bers of people. I thought at once, why should we not give it a trial, for sympathy is, at all events, wonderfully cheap. Carl pooh-poohed the idea of old Grunert's rem- edy, but I persuaded him to try it, as sympathy could surely do him no harm. He at last consented to let her try her hand. Grunert knew that we had an elder-tree in the garden that would suit her purpose, so she went out quietly and cut a small piece off one of the branches; on returning she poked this bit of wood round and round in Carl's decayed tooth till it bled. All this was done without a word being spoken. Then she went out again to the tree and tied the bit of wood with a linen thread on to the place from which she had cut it, and then came in and asked if the pain had gone. [64] TOOTHACHE "Is that what you expected*?" exclaimed Carl, an- noyed. "My tooth aches much worse since you wor- ried it with that bit of wood." But Grunert merely said, just let him wait till the wood has grown on to the tree again, the pain will vanish in a moment. After wishing that he might very soon be better, she went away home. Carl grumbled dreadfully about her nonsense, es- pecially as the toothache had become more violent since the sympathetic remedy had been applied. I suggested that he should try holding warm water in his mouth, which is said to be a good thing, and went into the kitchen to get a little heated. "Well, ma'am," said our cook to me, "when I've the toothache I use spirit of mustard-seed and rub it on my cheek; it burns a bit, but it does good." Luckily she had a little of the spirit, which I grate- fully accepted, and applied it to Carl's cheek. I soon wished I hadn't, for the stuff really seemed terribly hot and strong; Carl said his face felt as if it had been painted with some hellish fire. His cheek became as red as a boiled lobster and soon afterwards got very swollen. Then, of course, he was obliged to have his head tied up, which is what ought to have been done at the outset if only he had followed my advice. But men are always so obstinate, even when things are suggested for their good. What with the sympathetic remedy and the spirit [65] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT of mustard-seed, it was now nearly three in the morn- ing, and we went to bed. I cannot say I had a pleasant night, for Carl scarcely slept at all, and kept turning over and over in his bed. The next morning he certainly looked as if he might have done better. Towards eight o'clock he fell asleep, and I began to hope that all would soon be well. At ten the Police-lieutenant's wife came in with her congratu- lations for our wedding-day, which she regretted came rather late. She was sincerely grieved about' my husband, and said there was nothing better for toothache than genuine Chinese essence of poho. Our servant was sent out at once to fetch some. Carl had woke up meanwhile and was suffering dread- fully again. I showed him the essence we had pro- cured, but he refused to try it. "Carl," I said, "it would be most rude to the Police-lieutenant's wife if you were not to give the expensive stuff a trial." However, he would not listen to anything, and was very much out of temper. When I reminded him that the Chinese had proved themselves wiser than we were in many things, he at last agreed to try it, and I pushed a bit of wad- ding well saturated with the poho into his tooth. It made him spit dreadfully, but the pain van- ished. His eyes were full of tears from the strength of the essence, but he smiled as well as he could with [66] TOOTHACHE his swollen cheek. Poor Carl ! How grateful I felt to the Police-lieutenant's wife no one can imagine. I and the girls accompanied her downstairs, and she herself was pleased that her advice had proved so successful. When I returned upstairs I heard poor Carl moaning again the toothache had returned with redoubled violence. It is a good thing to have quick-witted children. It now occurred to Betti that Herr Krause had homoeopathic medicines, and often cured complaints in no time, so away she ran to ask him to look in. Herr Krause is a teacher, and one can always rely upon such persons, for they really know everything, and lay the foundation for everything; in fact, it is said it was they who won in the late war, although, of course, there never would have been a war but for them. Moreover, Herr Krause is specially well up in scientific matters, and has absolutely no faith whatever in medical men. And, as I said before, I myself prefer home remedies. Herr Krause lost no time in appearing with his medicine-case and his book, for was this not a case of succouring a suffering fellow-creature, and an act of pure humanity*? Carl was sitting on the sofa with his swollen cheek and was very irritable, yet, as he could only see with one eye, the other being pretty well swollen up, he looked as if he had a continual smirk on his face. [67] THE HAUSFRAU RAMPANT "Well, dear Buchholz," exclaimed Heir Krause, "still in good humour, in spite of your troubles, I am glad to see." "I'm not a bit in good humour," replied Carl snappishly. "If you want to do me a favour send for a doctor." "A doctor?" said Herr Krause, with a derisive smile. "There's is no occasion here for a doctor, I hope. Doctors do not by any means understand the secrets of nature. The main point in medicine is to