In and Around Berlin | Page 5

lady. It is true that American girls are forgiven some
liberties which no German girl would think of taking, on the ground of
American customs; and a careful, well-bred young lady, from our side
the water will seldom fall into serious trouble if she observes the rule of
not going out unattended. But young ladies from America in Europe
hold largely the honor of their country in their hands, and they ought to
recognize this responsibility.
German politeness has also a reverse side. Perhaps the general absence
of higher education among German women leaves them an especial
prey to idle curiosity and gossip. Not only is one questioned freely as to
the cost of any article of dress by comparative strangers, but questions
as to one's family and private affairs are common, almost customary.
Conversation which does not turn upon such things, or on others
equally trivial and irrelevant, is the exception. The recital on their part,
however, of personal and family history has a charming good-nature
and simplicity, and often a touch of the homely and pathetic, which
reach the heart of the listener. There were few tables where the
conversation was not too loud for our comfort. No one seemed
particularly to care for quiet talk with his neighbor, but the
conversation at a long table was a rattling sharpshooting or a heavy
cannonade from one end to the other, mingled with hearty laughter,
while "Attic salt" was sparing. Table-manners, even among otherwise
charming people, were often shocking to the taste of Americans. What
we should call the first principles of good-breeding were freely

contravened. The nicety and daintiness which in some favored
American and English homes make of the family board a visible and
tangible poem, were very rare in our German experience. And yet there
are charming German tables and well-bred German ladies and
gentlemen. One custom which we have been taught to regard as vulgar
and profane is that of constantly using the names of the Deity by way
of exclamation and emphasis in the most ordinary conversation. Being
on sufficiently intimate terms with a German lady, we one day ventured
to inquire deprecatingly about this habit. "Everybody does it," was her
candid reply; and this was the only reason we ever heard.
"George Eliot" long ago complained of the inconvenience of
perambulating Berlin streets, where you are pushed off the sidewalks
and are in constant danger of involuntary surgical experience through
contact with the military swords that clank and clatter in the crowd.
There is still room for improvement in this respect. The owners of
sabres often seem to take it for granted that the right of way belongs
first of all to them and their weapons, and if any one is thus
inconvenienced that is the business of the unlucky party. The streets
and sidewalks are much wider and less crowded than those in Boston;
but a collision on a Boston sidewalk is rare, while a half-dozen rude
ones in an hour is a daily expectation in Berlin. A Berlin pedestrian "to
the manner born," in blind momentum and disregard of all obstacles,
has no equal in our experience.
It was told me that if you are run over by the swiftly driven horses in
the streets, you must pay a fine for obstructing the way. Remembering
that many regulations are relics of the times when laws were made for
the good of the aristocracy who ride, and not for the vulgar crowd who
walk, we did not try the experiment. Mounted policemen are to be seen,
like equestrian statues, at the intersection of the more crowded
thoroughfares, as Unter den Linden and Friedrich Strasse, and with a
little care there is seldom need of delay in crossing. I heard of one poor
cab-driver who was fined and cast into prison for injuring a lady who
suddenly changed her mind and took a new tack while just in front of
his horses. Regard for foot-passengers seems thus to have an existence
in some cases.

Regard for women is not a thing to which German men are trained. A
gentleman may not carry a small parcel through the street, but his
delicate wife may take a heavier one to save the disgrace of her
husband's bearing it. Among the middle classes, those couples who go
out for a walk with the baby-carriage invariably regard the management
of it as the wife's privilege, leaving to the father the custody of his pipe
or cigar alone. If the baby is to be carried in arms, it is always the wife,
not the husband, who bears the burden. Women in the humbler classes
wear no bonnets in the street, although sometimes in cold weather they
tie a little shawl or a handkerchief about the head. Their usual habit is,