Page:Diary of a Pilgrimage (1891).pdf/175

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DIARY OF A PILGRIMAGE.
173

his mug of beer, and as these become empty he likes to have them filled again; and he likes to see other people like their pipe and their mug of beer. If you were to go dancing round a German, shrieking out entreaties to him to sign a pledge that he would never drink another drop of beer again as long as he lived, he would ask you to remember that you were talking to a man, not to a child or an imbecile, and he would probably impress the request upon you by boxing your ears for your impertinence. He can conduct himself sensibly without making an ass of himself. He can be "temperate" without tying bits of coloured ribbon all about himself to advertise the fact, and without rushing up and down the street waving a banner and yelling about it.

The German women are not beautiful, but they are lovable and sweet; and they are broad-breasted and broad-hipped, like the mothers of big sons should be. They do not seem to trouble themselves about their "rights," but appear to be very contented and happy even without votes. The men treat them with courtesy