“Was für Bier haben sie?” and their mouths were all open in anticipation of long drinks at new, cool beer. The second question as they ered the gangway was, “Who is this stupid Englishman you have on board?”—the words “stupid” and “Englishman” are always used by Germans together. The “dummer Englander” himself met them all at the head of the gangway with an amused smile, and how very foolish they did look! Ina little while they were asking to be presented.
You see, I had the pull on all these Germans; I knew more parts of their Homeland than they did themselves. I had lived among or known some of their countrymen whose names were very familiar to them, but whom they could not easily meet or know, and a person who had talked with the great von Moltke was in their eyes no mere “stupid Englishman.” Had I not drunk my beer in the Hofbrauerei at München, in Auer- bach’s Keller in Leipzig, in the Stalle in Koln; with students in Heidelberg and Bonn, with cavalry officers in the Reitschule at Hanover, or in the Café Robby there? Had I not dined at Dressels in Unter den Linden and the countless beer gardens of Berlin; hobnobbed with the peasants through- out a whole winter in the Bavarian Alps, known something of the life of Schloss and Dorf, and were not their customs and ways very well known to me? Their prejudices vanish when they know you understand them. Then I have seen colonies grow and develop under my eyes, and have a right to express an opinion on how it is done. My valuable opinions have already been sought on various things here, and, of course, I graciously give them, whether I know anything about the matter or not! But at present I am too pleased and interested to be as scornful and sarcastic as
