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getting up early。 He wishes his friends 〃Good…night；〃 and drives down to
the station comfortably after supper； without putting the house to any
inconvenience。
Potsdam； the Versailles to Berlin； is a beautiful little town； situate
among lakes and woods。 Here in the shady ways of its quiet； far…
stretching park of Sans Souci； it is easy to imagine lean； snuffy Frederick
〃bummeling〃 with shrill Voltaire。
Acting on my advice； George and Harris consented not to stay long in
Berlin； but to push on to Dresden。 Most that Berlin has to show can be
seen better elsewhere； and we decided to be content with a drive through
the town。 The hotel porter introduced us to a droschke driver； under
whose guidance； so he assured us； we should see everything worth seeing
in the shortest possible time。 The man himself； who called for us at nine
o'clock in the morning； was all that could be desired。 He was bright；
intelligent； and well… informed； his German was easy to understand； and
he knew a little English with which to eke it out on occasion。 With the
man himself there was no fault to be found； but his horse was the most
unsympathetic brute I have ever sat behind。
He took a dislike to us the moment he saw us。 I was the first to come
out of the hotel。 He turned his head； and looked me up and down with a
cold； glassy eye； and then he looked across at another horse； a friend of his
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that was standing facing him。 I knew what he said。 He had an
expressive head； and he made no attempt to disguise his thought。
He said：
〃Funny things one does come across in the summer time； don't one？〃
George followed me out the next moment； and stood behind me。 The
horse again turned his head and looked。 I have never known a horse that
could twist himself as this horse did。 I have seen a camelopard do trick's
with his neck that compelled one's attention； but this animal was more like
the thing one dreams of after a dusty days at Ascot； followed by a dinner
with six old chums。 If I had seen his eyes looking at me from between
his own hind legs； I doubt if I should have been surprised。 He seemed
more amused with George if anything； than with myself。 He turned to
his friend again。
〃Extraordinary； isn't it？〃 he remarked； 〃I suppose there must be some
place where they grow them〃； and then he commenced licking flies off his
own left shoulder。 I began to wonder whether he had lost his mother
when young； and had been brought up by a cat。
George and I climbed in； and sat waiting for Harris。 He came a
moment later。 Myself； I thought he looked rather neat。 He wore a white
flannel knickerbocker suit； which he had had made specially for bicycling
in hot weather； his hat may have been a trifle out of the common； but it did
keep the sun off。
The horse gave one look at him； said 〃Gott in Himmel！〃 as plainly as
ever horse spoke； and started off down Friedrich Strasse at a brisk walk；
leaving Harris and the driver standing on the pavement。 His owner called
to him to stop； but he took no notice。 They ran after us； and overtook us
at the corner of the Dorotheen Strasse。 I could not catch what the man said
to the horse； he spoke quickly and excitedly； but I gathered a few phrases；
such as：
〃Got to earn my living somehow； haven't I？ Who asked for your
opinion？ Aye； little you care so long as you can guzzle。〃
The horse cut the conversation short by turning up the Dorotheen
Strasse on his own account。 I think what he said was：
〃Come on then； don't talk so much。 Let's get the job over； and； where
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possible； let's keep to the back streets。〃
Opposite the Brandenburger Thor our driver hitched the reins to the
whip； climbed down； and came round to explain things to us。 He pointed
out the Thiergarten； and then descanted to us of the Reichstag House。 He
informed us of its exact height； length； and breadth； after the manner of
guides。 Then he turned his attention to the Gate。 He said it was
constructed of sandstone； in imitation of the 〃Properleer〃 in Athens。
At this point the horse； which had been occupying its leisure licking its
own legs； turned round its head。 It did not say anything； it just looked。
The man began again nervously。 This time he said it was an imitation
of the 〃Propeyedliar。〃
Here the horse proceeded up the Linden； and nothing would persuade
him not to proceed up the Linden。 His owner expostulated with him； but
he continued to trot on。 From the way he hitched his shoulders as he
moved； I somehow felt he was saying：
〃They've seen the Gate； haven' t they？ Very well； that's enough。 As
for the rest； you don't know what you are talking about； and they wouldn't
understand you if you did。 You talk German。〃
It was the same throughout the length of the Linden。 The horse
consented to stand still sufficiently long to enable us to have a good look
at each sight； and to hear the name of it。 All explanation and description
he cut short by the simple process of moving on。
〃What these fellows want；〃 he seemed to say to himself； 〃is to go
home and tell people they have seen these things。 If I am doing them an
injustice； if they are more intelligent than they look； they can get better
information than this old fool of mine is giving them from the guide book。
Who wants to know how high a steeple is？ You don't remember it the
next five minutes when you are told； and if you do it is because you have
got nothing else in your head。 He just tires me with his talk。 Why
doesn't he hurry up； and let us all get home to lunch？〃
Upon reflection； I am not sure that wall…eyed old brute had not sense
on its side。 Anyhow； I know there have been occasions； with a guide；
when I would have been glad of its interference。
But one is apt to 〃sin one's mercies；〃 as the Scotch say； and at the time
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we cursed that horse instead of blessing it。
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CHAPTER VII
George wondersGerman love of order〃The Band of the
Schwarzwald Blackbirds will perform at seven〃The china dogIts
superiority over all other dogsThe German and the solar systemA tidy
countryThe mountain valley as it ought to be； according to the German
ideaHow the waters come down in GermanyThe scandal of Dresden
Harris gives an entertainmentIt is unappreciatedGeorge and the aunt of
himGeorge； a cushion； and three damsels。
At a point between Berlin and Dresden； George； who had； for the last
quarter of an hour or so； been looking very attentively out of the window；
said：
〃Why； in Germany； is it the custom to put the letter…box up a tree？
Why do they not fix it to the front door as we do？ I should hate having to
climb up a tree to get my letters。 Besides； it is not fair to the postman。
In addition to being most exhausting； the delivery of letters must to a
heavy man； on windy nights； be positively dangerous work。 If they will
fix it to a tree； why not fix it lower down； why always among the topmost
branches？ But； maybe； I am misjudging the country；〃 he continued； a
new idea occurring to him。 〃Possibly the Germans； who are in many
matters ahead of us； have perfected a pigeon post。 Even so； I cannot help
thinking they would have been wiser to train the birds； while they were
about it； to deliver the letters nearer the ground。 Getting your letters out